washing nasty stinky feet

A long long time ago, before Jon and I had even started dating, our relationship almost didn't get off the ground.  Almost tanked before it began...  for a very small, but very undeniably nose-worthy reason:

I have/had ridiculously smelly feet.  True Story:

We had already had a DTR, we knew that the like-age was mutual, but being super long-distance, we wanted to take it slow, and figure out where this all was going before we jumped in feet first... so we talked a lot, planned some intentional hang-outs, and racked up some ridiculously high cell phone minutes.  

And then I came down to visit Jon in VA, in the midst of a long fund-raising trip, and many other travels.  And at the end of the visit, we, wisely or foolishly - we consider it both, decided to road trip up the east coast together - he had to go to his cousin's wedding, I had to go home.   During that 10 hour car ride, which both of us describe as one of the longest and most awkward of our lives - my smelly feet quite literally made Jon cringe, pray, and long for the ending of the voyage.  Likewise, I took his silence and visceral reaction to something (wouldn't know what the something was until months later) as a reaction to me personally, and figured that after I dropped him off - as he jettisoned himself from the car as fast as he could - that I would probably never hear from him again.

When we talked about this the other night, that hadn't been outside of the realm of possibilities (so great was the stench).  Lucky for me, he gave me another chance.  Called me again.  Got to know me, not just my smelly extremities.  Now, three and a half years later, we're happily married, love each other more than ever, and, yes...  despite every best effort, my feet still sometimes smell.  Although I have gotten better at recognizing that YES, other people can smell them too.  Farts too, shockingly.  Yes, this was a life-changing realization.

I was reminded of this the other night, after a long day of tromping around, when I finally got home, finally jettisoned the shoes and socks, and sat down on the couch next to Jon to relax... and Jon wrinkles his nose, yet again, and says, "Wow, your feet really stink!"  True fact.  Yes, duly acknowledged.  And you want me to do something about it?

I was feeling tired, pregnant, somewhat feisty (what else is new), so I replied, "Fine!  If they stink, how about you wash them."

And so he did.

Now, ladies, before we turn this into some hyper-romantic moment, where my husband lovingly, tenderly washes and caresses my feet, let me just clarify - it wasn't.  It was loving, and gentle, but it wasn't one of those super romantic moments - it was a place in which my smelliness was negatively impacting both of us, and Jon was willing to take the initiative to help me de-stink, for the sake of the health of our marriage - and the possibility of our cohabiting the couch together in peace.

But as I've reflected on it afterwards, I think there is actually a symbolic aspect to it - more to marriage that anything else.  In my infant-stage knowledge of marriage, I can say truthfully, marriage is hard - it takes work.  Not always.  Not every day.  But the reality is, it does not fix your issues, and in fact, often times it reveals them.  You cannot hide your stinky-ness in the close proximity and intimacy that is marriage - sharing life, space, time, bodies, and lodging with another person.  Every day.  And by stinky-ness, I don't mean the things about the other that just irritate you.  Or the things that by matter of preference, we wish were different.   I mean the things that are actually sinful.  Bent.  Wrong.  Broken.  Destructive.  Not okay.  

But I think the choice in marriage, on a daily basis, is will I let my spouse's stench drive me away, lead into me into resentment and criticism of them, or will I actively participate in washing their stinky feet?   And I think the reality is, in real life, this isn't always a beautiful, symbolic moment or act.  Sometimes, it a matter of choice.  Reluctance.  Servanthood.  Necessity.  Hard work. Repetition. Choice.

Will I absent myself from the process, giving myself the freedom to criticize and critique without partnering with them in the process?  Will I see their stench as "theirs" and miss the opportunity to love them in the process - whether by washing their feet or pointing them towards Jesus who can actually wash their whole beings, by speaking truth in love, by challenging them to press into those places, walking alongside them, by forgiving them... again, or by naming sin and pressing in rather than pulling further away. 

Each person has responsibility for their own sin.  And no, you and I are not responsible for the sin or brokenness of others - ultimately, if someone is not willing to own and repent of sin, it does not fall on us to fix them, heal them or make them whole, or repent for them.  That is a false burden to bear, and leaves way too much room for abuse.  My stinky feet are my own.  I have to own that and deal with it and maybe invest in some serious odor eaters.  They are not Jon's responsibility.

However, I think we miss the point, if we somehow miss that marriage is a partnership in processing through both the good and the bad.  If we point fingers, rather than join hands.  If we demand changes and fixes, rather than figure it out together.  

Maybe it is actually an invitation to us to wash each others' stinky feet a little more often.  

I do not want your Jesus

i do not want your Jesus -

the one who is simplified,

beautifully easy to understand -

palatable, relatable, desirable,

marketable.

i do not want your Jesus -

who simply requires that I say "yes" to Him,

no explanation of the very real cost of following.

he is kind, merciful, loving, sacrificial,

the fulness of perfection - yes -

the solution to every woe - and promises that everything will be okay.

one size fits all.

but like most one-size fits all -

this Jesus comes unravelled at the seams.

sometimes he doesn't fit, solve or explain in ways that i see or understand -

he feels 2-dimensional.

oversimplified. palatable. marketable.

pocket-sized.

i DO want Jesus - just not the 2-dimensional form.

that one collapses under pressure or investigation.

the real Jesus is challenging - he says hard things.

i don't always understand him,

i cannot easily explain him.

he does not fit in my pocket

or any other 2-dimensional diagram or explanation.

he is divisive and hard - i don't always feel like singing.

he split history and nations: in his name, people died and die.

he loves radically and recklessly - while entirely logical, not my logically.

his answers to my woes - while i believe them to be good -

 are not always now, not always fathomable, or even likable.  

he hates my sin and with real authority that requires response

says no more.

at his authority - which all must eventually obey - hell quakes

and rebels - as often do i.

he shows mercy to people that i wouldn't;

people i don't like or think deserve it.

his judgment is always just - but sometimes it's hard,

unpalatable.  unmarketable.

he calls sin what is sin - and rightly so -

sometimes things i would prefer to excuse.  and do. and wish he would.

his grace is unfathomable; his mercy unexplainable.

he is 100% good.  loving. merciful.  Father.  just. holy.  Savior.

he is LORD Almighty.  Creator. judge, jury.  Yahweh.  Alpha and Omega.

he is worthy of praise.  and must be praised - I think with joy.

but when Jesus becomes condensible, pocket-sized,

palatable.  marketable.  fully explainable.  always desirable -

that is a cheapened imitation of the real Jesus -

and one that i do not want.  

Father, help me to see myself today as I truly am...

Reflection of the day:  I think the next step for me is to realize again, and mourn, my own sin and brokenness.   And I have no idea where to start with that, but I think that's the next step.  In the midst of anger and bitterness and work-faith-life-work that has been too closely intertwined, I think I've lost a sense of my own need for God.

... My own ingratitude, in the midst of pointing out others'.
... My own sense of entitlement, in the midst of bemoaning that of my peers.
... My own arrogance and sense of unholy pride.
... My own unholy anger.
... My own running away.
... My own culpability in this season of dryness: the ways that I have rejected water, and rejected Jesus and run away from what feels hard or difficult, rather than ask for His help.

Don't know where to start with that, but my hunch is that it starts with asking God to help me to see.

So, knowing fully that this is a dangerous prayer, my prayer for today is:

"Father, help me to see myself today as I truly am."

Without a lens of self-accusation or shame or self-loathing or even just a desire to feel guilt or something, but also without self-excusing, without arrogance, without blinders, and without blame shifting.  Truly loved, truly known, truly delighted in, but also truly in need of you.  Truly received by you.

Amen.

holy vs unholy anger

Yesterday was  day of lots of anger for me - mostly aimed at public transportation and transportation in general.  Couple a really long work day, with lots of walking up steps (30 flights in all), with achy pregnant body, and then put that combined hot mess into the following transportation situations:

1) Getting yelled at and honked at, in a crosswalk where I had right of way, and told to "hurry it up."
2) The T running 30 minutes late
3) Having to stand on the T, next to an elderly very hunched over man using a cane to stand, while at least 10 able-bodied young college students stared at us, but made no move to offer a seat.
4) Nearly getting hit by a car, in another intersection where I had right of way, as he ignored a stop sign

Let's just say that I was pretty hot under the collar by the time I got home - frequently uttering my favorite phrase - "it's not okay!!" to my very patient husband attempting to calm his hot, tired wife.

Got to love it.  And the hormones don't make it better.

However, all this talk about anger - both yesterday's fun times - and processing through anger this weekend (see Partnership), has made me want to stop briefly and reflect on this idea of holy versus unholy anger.  Because I think both are part of the equation for me these days.

See, I was raised to think that anger is bad in general.  Period.  One shouldn't get angry.  In fact, anger as an emotion should be minimized at all costs.  Never expressed.  Which is ironic, because I saw my parents angry all the time.  But that's another story... the point is, it wasn't until recently that I began to actually delineate, or try to, between holy and unholy anger.  And I think there is a difference.  And I think it's an important one.

There is hurtful, harmful, damaging anger, which lashes out at others - whether out of self-protection, perceived threat, bad day, hurt feelings, self-vindication, entitlement, or even just holy anger gone bad, which has been allowed to grow bitter roots, leading to spiteful outpourings.

This is most likely what majority of my transportation anger was about yesterday - a sense of entitlement, my own tiredness, desire for vindication, and just a long day.  Let's be honest.

But there is also another side to anger,  and I think we when look at the instances where Jesus got angry - because shockingly, he did get angry - I think we get a little bit of a picture of what that holy anger looks like.  See I think holy angry is two things:

1) It is an appropriate response to injustice and sin.  Holy anger says, "It's not okay."  "This is not right; this is not how it was supposed to be." "This is wrong."  Holy anger (should) drives us, not into lashing out, but into a place of mourning, repentance, forgiveness, and longing for Heaven.   Holy anger drives us into action for the sake of something other than ourselves - be that Jesus, the Kingdom, the state of our souls, or our brothers or sisters.

Which leads me to,

2) Holy anger is compassion in action.  Justice in action.  Holy anger is a response to injustice, that says, "This is not okay, and I will strive - in what is my role (and role actually is important in delineating holy from unholy anger), and my ability - to see healing and justice in this place." Again, it's not a damaging lashing out, but rather an acting on the behalf of others (if they're okay with it) to protect, to advocate for, to create space for healing.

For years, I've thought that I am not a particularly compassionate woman.  I don't cry well with others - the touchy, feel-y side of empathy and compassion is often lost on me.  Sitting beside hurting individuals in silence, mourning with them, does not come naturally to me.  I've grown in that area - but it has been as a result of practice, work, and asking Jesus for mercies that are not mine naturally.  And by God's grace, He has been growing me in those areas.

However, what I'm learning about myself, is that that compassion for me often looks more like holy anger.  I do feel great compassion for those who are hurting, who are suffering injustice, or in need of healing.  But often times, my compassion looks more like standing in protection over the hurting individual, as a shield between them and their accuser.  Of weeping in anger over the injustice and longing for Jesus' return when He will set all things right in true justice.  Of advocating for change in unjust policies, or being the voice for the voiceless.  Of calling injustice what it is, and feeling deeply the wrongness of it.  Those are not often what we think of, when we think of compassion, but I think they are compassion none-the-less.

You see, I think the difference between holy and unholy anger is not just the impact - unholy is destructive and damaging, whereas holy seeks wholeness and healing and ultimately should lead there - but rather, holy anger is in response to true injustice or wrong, unholy anger is often times related to entitlement, a need to be vindicated or made right, or self-protection and/or not wanting to deal with the real issue at hand.

Which is where my current processing comes in.  Recap: KD has lots of anger which she's realizing that she needs to deal with.  Not all anger is bad.  How we process through this relates to discerning which anger needs to be repented OF, and which anger needs to lead me into a place of mourning, action, and forgiveness.

My two cents for the day, as I continue to process all that anger junk... :)

really big breakfast

Awkward moment of the day? When a random acquaintance, who we hadn't told that we were pregnant, came up to me and asked, and I quote,

"(pointing at my stomach) So... what's going on in there?!?  Are you guys pregnant or did you just eat a really big breakfast?"  ...  really?  No, this was not asked in a joking manner.  Totally serious.

Yes, I'm pregnant.  But supposing that I wasn't... how is that okay in any way? Come on, people.

And out of curiosity, would you still rub my belly if it was just a really big breakfast?

partnership

So, this weekend, I got two messages that gave me a small glimpse of some of the anger that's still unhealthily residing in my gut.  Both were from folks that I worked with indirectly for several years while in ministry.  Neither were directly involved in the ministry I worked for - as coworkers, friends, supporters, or students.  Both were very well-meaning individuals who I think legitimately sought to bless me and advocate for me at various points in time.  But at the same time, despite good intentions in both of their "blessings," I more often than not felt belittled.  Made smaller.  Criticized.  Questioned.  Told how to do my job better.  Not trusted.  Insufficient.  And wounded deeply by words marked by pleasant tones and kind motivations, and I honestly believe kind hearts, but distrustful content and hurtful "help."

Things like... correcting me for doing my job, the way that I was supposed to, because it didn't fit with what they thought was best.  Asking me if I, as a woman, as a para-church ministry, as a para-church ministry other than theirs, as a Caucasian, as a non-ordained minister, should really be doing _____.  Shouldn't I let them or someone else do it instead?  Which, sometimes there are times where that is valid - and I'll be the first to admit that.  The issue was that these requests were not based on my qualifications or even a particular situation - and never actually evaluated or considered those - but rather, started carte blanc with what was considered "best" and what were seen as my 'handicaps.' "Because of who you are, and who you work for, you may do this, but not this."  Asking me to come to meetings, but please not speak, because your opinion is different and it might cause confusion.  Verbally articulating full and complete partnership, but never fully treating me as a trusted and complete partner.  The "how are things going?" question, with the underlying tone of distrust, always looking for how they, the wiser, could instruct me or correct me.

And as a result, both messages, rather than being pleasantries that were taken at face value, triggered a deep sense of anger, "shutdown," distrust, and insufficiency in me - and a deep desire to avoid them at all costs.

Clearly, I have some processing, forgiving, and potentially even confrontation and reconciliation to do. I'll keep you posted on how that goes...  I haven't really started that yet.  Pretty sure that avoiding isn't necessarily the best option.  So let's start with what I wish I could say to them about partnership - what I think partnership looks like - and why the kind of partnership I experienced felt off:

True partnership expresses trust and, even when it's hard, acts into that, rather than in distrust.  This is absolutely foundational.  If there is not trust - even hard-fought, continually re-given, wrestled-through, Jesus-help-me-trust-today trust - then it's really hard for there to be a partnership.  

True partnership is starts from a place of equal ground, not a hierarchy.  It always acknowledges, that regardless of age, gender, race, or background, that each can learn from the other.  Both partners take the role of teacher and student at varying times.  If there is not some equality, it isn't actually a partnership - not inherently a bad thing - just call it what it is.

True partnership does not pray sermons directed at the other or use spiritual things to minimize or belittle the other. 

True partnership acknowledges that difference is not a bad thing - and is open to learning a different way than their own.   Partnership by nature implies that we are not the same, do not think the same way, do not operate the same way necessarily - but that we believe that there is strength in working together.   And because we're different, true partnership always requires asking for forgiveness, giving it, and receiving it.  It is an active and continual work in process of building and rebuilding trust.

True partnership advocates for the other - and out of trust in the other - does so in moments of strength and weakness. 

True partnership doesn't 'handicap' or silence someone into or out of certain roles, but together considers well what the best way to proceed is, mutually listening well to the heart and desires of the other.  One person is not the standard for what "best" is.  True partnership strives to see strengths and abilities in the other, and call those out, that the other might not know, see, or believe.  While partners do correct and seek bettering for the other, that is never the extent to which partnership plays out... if it is solely that, it's called critiquing or consulting not partnering.  

Kind hearts and kind words and even a desire to "help" the other do not necessarily indicate true partnership.  They are good things, but real partnership requires more than that.  Real partnership requires that we be for one another, even at cost to ourselves.  That we trust one another, even if that takes continual work.  That we entrust important things to the other. That we say thank you and bless the good with joy and rejoicing because we know that ones success is not detrimental or threatening to the other... as well as strive for greater mutual strength and improvement in places of weakness.   

What would you add about real partnership?

Poo

Awkward moment at work, when it takes you so long to use the bathroom, due to pregnancy constipation, that the automatic motion sensor lights turn off on you.  

Equally awkward, when you take a very smelly and somewhat (read ::very::) noisy #2 pitstop, and in the middle, hear your boss come in, enter the stall next to you, say "OH MY GOSH!  what is that?" under her breath, inhale and hold her breath for the duration of her visit to the ladies room, and then rush out as fast as possible.  Yeah, that happened.  It's one of those awkward things that we don't speak of but we both know happened.  Darn you, very cute, very distinct shoes.  

Solution?  Use the bathroom one floor down at work, so at very least, you won't run into anyone you know.  Yeah, I said it.  AND, your bathroom at home does not smell.  Yeah.

You may judge me now, I'm okay with that, and I probably deserve it just a little bit.

That's all for now.  Deeper more serious thoughts later, but that's my day, and we're just going to roll with it.  

Still called beloved.  

Explaining the "dry spell"

Putting things in words has rarely been an issue for me... but somehow starting each post these days seems to take a little bit more effort.  Perhaps because I am trying very hard not to gloss over things or make them "prettier" than they are...

At any rate, as I have mentioned before, I'm in the midst of a bit of a dry spell spiritually - desperately in need of watering, refreshing, and renewing.  I compared myself to tomato plants not too long ago, if you remember. 

I struggle to be able to explain this "dry spell" or "struggle" to people at times, because in doing so, I want to honor the students that I worked with and the leadership that I was under, to affirm that ministry was good and not faked or empty, to confirm that my faith is in fact still in tact, etc.  and in general, to affirm that I still believe in God, am "okay" and still love InterVarsity (all true), while at the same time, striving to be authentic, real, and "messy" and more importantly, honest, about where I am which is pretty dry and pretty messy.  But in the effort for transparency, here we go...

I was telling a friend earlier today - I think the crux of it is - the danger in full time ministry, is that what you do for a living, and what you personally believe in - your relationship with God - run the risk of becoming dangerously intertwined. 

• Where your own spiritual nourishment comes from preparing to lead others - where everything that you learn becomes something shared for building others up, an example to be shared, rather than intimate and personal - where coming apart has to be somewhat put together so that it doesn't cause others to come apart (is the logic, at least) - where even when you want to engage in faith (worship, Scripture) simply for yourself, you always have in the back of your mind the people that you have under your care - and then add in that you end up carrying (willingly, with joy and delight) not just your own burdens and questions, but also those of others, and miss the fact that those are God's job not yours - and lastly, wrestling with feeling like when you fail, that you have failed God, that your failures have bigger impact than they actually do, rather than just being an invitation for more grace, sometimes repentance, always a deeper need for Jesus.

• Add in the fact that spiritual leadership - either done by you, or by those in leadership over you -  confuses and muddles that line between business leadership and discipline and opinions, and "God-led" vision and leadership. A line that, when walked well, is a beautiful melding of using our own gifts and listening to God for his leadership.  But all too often - I think in almost any ministry setting over a long-enough term -  is muddled by human messiness, calling "inspired vision" what is really human wisdom.  The guilt/shame and the bitterness/anger of being both the perpetrator of that and the recipient therein add up over time, and unreleased, suffocate and embitter.

• When you fund-raise for your job, you have the added pressure that donors want to see (or at least this is the perception - I think sometimes a false one) that things are going well - they need to have trust with an organization - and so you learn (I think unfortunately) to separate the messy and the "newsletter-worthy." You don't talk very much about the ways in which you are struggling - unless it is processed and neatly wrapped up - because this can very practically hinders your ability to meet budget.  This quickly can devolve into a warped and small view of the faith which says, "clean it up" rather than "I have come not for the healthy but for the sick."

• And finally, ministry is often times a thankless job.  Those who love you and receive well from God through your ministry rarely say thank you - until you leave, and then they come out of the woodwork - and those who are frustrated or think you as a woman shouldn't be in ministry or think that you as a para church are non-Biblical or even just those who think that your ministry should look different - well, they are far more vocal.  And that's not even talking about the internal critic, who merciless shouts that there is always more to be done.  And when you internalize that, absorbing it, over and over again, faith and work intertwined, when you finally stop and release the work and start to address the state of your own faith, you find that there is a lot of leftover, unaddressed anger and bitterness now linked in with your faith. 

While all of these are not necessarily inherent to full-time ministry, they are dangers therein; more centrally, they are all things which I have struggled with, and in many ways, have led to where I find myself now, still believing in the truth of the Gospel, deeply rooted in a love for Jesus, but dry.  In need of water.  Nearly burned out.  Wrestling with anger and bitterness.  Trying to figure out how to "do" faith without it being obligation.  Trying to "re-learn" how to be really messy, not just "cleaned up" messy.  

So here I am.  Messy.  Dry.  In need of water.  Asking God to show me Himself again and again.  To wash away the unhealthy patterns that I have picked up, the mis-truths that I have learned.  Releasing the anger and bitterness and asking God for healing.  Celebrating the beautiful things that I saw God do.  And I think actually heading in a healthy direction...  just messy in the process!

A few thoughts for the road?  Some learned from my better days, others things I wish I had done better or actually practiced, by no means expert:

If you have the blessing of being loved by or supporting someone in full-time ministry:

- Give that person grace to be messy, and grace when they are messy - and give them the grace not to give them a "quick fix" or to expect one when they are messy.

- Ask how you can pray for them, and actually pray for them when you're with them

- Say thank you for the things you're grateful for in the moment, not later

- Ask them to have holy secrets - things that are just between them and God, and not for you

- Make sure that they take time off - and if you're a ministry supporter, support them in taking time off to refresh, renew, reconnect with Jesus, and release things that are not theirs to carry

- Affirm that it's okay to share ministry failures as well as successes - and demonstrate this.

If you are in full-time ministry:

- Make it a regular practice to have holy secrets - things that are just between you and God

- Be willing to be wrong, to apologize, to forgive and receive forgiveness - be very cautious of claiming divine inspiration (don't avoid it, just be willing to be wrong and to hear dissenting opinions).

- Avoid the practice of "quick fixes" for not so simple issues - ask for grace, and give yourself the same grace you give others to sometimes need a bit more time.  Don't bury anger, it grows roots of bitterness.

- If you are fundraising, your donors are your partners - give them the privilege of praying with you through the messy parts, rather than trying to handle them on your own.  Treat them as partners... 95% of them really want to be that and understand that ministry is messy...

- Take retreats that have nothing to do with your pastorate or their needs:  it's okay to be selfish in this way, it actually blesses your pastorate for their ministry leader to have intimate relationship with Jesus

- Have at least one friend who will speak truth to you, that is entirely mutual, that you can be entirely honest with without ministry ramifications and practice that honesty regularly.  Pray together.

User Manual for KD

Sometimes I think I need to come with an users manual.  A very long one.  Or at very least a label with warnings.  Even coffee comes with that these days, and the reality is, I'm way more complicated than hot coffee (even though pre-pregnancy, I was made up of a higher percentage of coffee than water).

So this is going to be a pregnancy post - fair warning.  I promise, it doesn't have anything to do with weight gain or cankles or cute baby kicks or the overwhelming process of buying anything baby related (read: I have a panic attack every time I look at Babies R Us - and that's without even once darkening the threshold).  No, this one has more to do with me - as a pregnant woman, as a friend, as a person - and some of the things that have been hard or that I have been processing around pregnancy.  Think about it as an abbreviated users manual...

And just as a disclaimer for my wonderful friends and family who might read this:  this is not directed at anyone.  I promise!  Please know that I write these things out of love, not meaning to shame or belittle, to  accuse or to be passive aggressive or make anyone feel self-conscious.  This is not a rant.  But this is me - real, messy, pregnant - and some of the things I wish I could tell people coherently sometimes :) Right.  Here goes:

KD Users Manual Version 1.5 [with some new programming shifts]- otherwise known as the top 5 things I'm realizing about myself in pregnancy, some of which were true before, and some of which are new, which I want others to know!

1.  I am still me.  Yes, I am growing a human being and no longer size whatever, but I am still fundamentally me.  And the reality is, there is lot more to me than just baby.  It's a big part - and growing bigger daily - but it's not all that I am.  Ask my husband how often I have yelled into the sky, "I am more than just a vestibule by which this baby comes into the world!" Funny as this may seem, I love talking about things other than baby - in addition to sharing about baby stuff.   For example: new job, events of the day, new recipes that I've been trying, our efforts to begin making cheese, what I'm learning about myself in leaving IV staff, etc.  Please honor me by recognizing that while this baby is beyond priceless to me, and I am delighted to be his/her mom, I am also still a woman, a wife, a person, and there is more to me, my life, and my world than just this one miraculous event.

2) Please ask me more than just "How are you feeling?" I know this is motivated out of love.  I know that I was pretty sick for a while - and I know that you do legitimately want to know how I'm doing.  But the reality is, my days are divided into two categories of how I feel:

• I feel great - normal, just having a human kick me from the inside out and a backache.  This is about 70% of my days now.  Yes, we are there.  But I feel fine, good even, on most days!  

• I am _____  (fill in the blank: constipated, feeling fat, struggling with self-esteem, horny, sleepy, sad, lonely, happy, exhausted, scared, overwhelmed, anxious, busy, angry, thrilled, hungry, and very rarely but occasionally, nauseous, etc.)  In other words, I'm experiencing some form of normal emotion, plus hormones and baby symptoms.  And depending on how well I know you, and how much I want to admit that I feel like I have a gas bubble the size and shape of a rhinoceros inside or something equally embarrassing, I may or may not actually answer honestly if this is the case.  While “how are you feeling” is not a bad question, it just might not lead to the type of real conversation that you or I actually want to have. I don't mind sharing awkward facts about myself, we all know this - but believe it or not, there are some days in which I just don't want to share all of that. 

I don’t mean to be cynical or to discourage people from asking real questions– it's fine to ask me how I'm feeling.  In fact, please do so - I know you're doing it because you care.  And I really appreciate that!  Just please also ask me something else.  I'll reiterate: I'm still me.  And there's more to me than baby.  I'm a mess right now: I just started a new job, I'm processing my old one, I'm struggling spiritually, I’m trying to figure out how to navigate being a wife, a friendly person, and a person who lives out her faith in an authentic way.  And I’ve read some really interesting books lately and seen some good movies, and, if you’d believe it, had some awkward moments, if you feel like going a little lighter.  Ask me about those things too! (And ask my husband how he's doing too - because he matters too, and it's not all about how I'm feeling and the state of our pregnancy).

3) I am so excited to have this baby – it is a gift, a blessing, a joy.  It is a miracle.  And a huge event.  And I am authentically excited – terrified – but also so excited.  I do love sharing about baby – what I’m thinking, dreaming, excited about, scared about… it’s not a taboo subject.  I love this kid. Would you believe that he/she loves listening to their dad play music?! S/he kicks and wiggles every time! It makes my soul smile.  I put my hand on my stomach regularly not because I feel sick, but because I can't wait until my husband will be able to feel the baby move too.  Already this baby is a part of our family and we LOVE him/her so much!  And it makes all the messy, unpleasant parts worth it.  100%.  So, if I'm having a rough day and not feeling good, or feeling overwhelmed by money or work or all the things we have to figure out - if I'm whiny or feeling fat or not feeling the most exuberantly excited or just tired - please please please don't ever take that to indicate that I'm not excited about this child.  I still cannot believe that this is our miracle -  I just am human and I have not so on days.  

4) In the same ways that I long to be known, and have the freedom to be more than just pregnant, and to be real where I am, in excitement or frustration, I also want you to feel the same freedom to be wherever you are. I want to prioritize being an authentic friend to you, and not become blinded by what's going on in my life.  So I want you to feel the freedom,  if you really want to be pregnant and can’t right now for whatever reason, for you to be sad or angry or happy or whatever you're feeling around me – you’re my friend.  I love you.  And that doesn’t diminish my happiness.  It's also fine if you do or don't want to talk about babies - please love me well by helping me know what you need. Please let me continue to be your friend – and teach me how I can love you well and share my joy well with you.  

Likewise, if you really never want to have kids and actually don’t like children, please don’t feel that you need to apologize to me for that.  Really - I know it's not against me or munchkin.  Maybe I won’t ask you to babysit, but again, I don’t take it personally nor will I attempt to persuade you of what’s right for you at this point in time.  Lord knows, I don’t know. And regardless of where you are with kids, please don't feel like you have to talk about babies around me all the time - as aforementioned, I am still me and interested in things other than just upcoming child birth.   Please gently point it out to me, if I talk about baby stuff too much, or am missing you in the midst of it all.

5) And lastly, please don't assume that once baby comes, we will stop being friends and I will disappear.  I know this happens sometimes and I know that a lot of things will be changing schedule-wise when our munchkin comes.  And yes, probably things about me will change too.  But please have faith in me, that if we’re really friends, I value our friendship - and that I'm committed to figuring out how to do the messy part of figuring that all out. Yes, some moms disappear and turn into total mommy mode.  Maybe I'll be proved wrong - but I don't think that has to be the case.  I don't want to do that and I'm going to do what I can to make sure that doesn't happen.  Let's start from that assumption...

I value you deeply, friends and family, and love sharing my life with you - thank you for loving and valuing me as well and always seeking to love me well!  

love,

KD

my name is not bitter

Short post today, as I need to get dinner started...

Over the last few weeks and months, we have spent a lot of time trying to come up with the right now for our upcoming addition to the family - something that sounds good, that has meaning, that is a blessing to our child, something we can mutually agree on!  As a result, we've spent a lot of time on www.behindthename.com .  Great site - and very helpful.  No, we still don't have a name picked out yet.  And no, we will not speculate on possibilities just yet.  

Regardless.

Today I had a completely unrelated surprise and gift, which for whatever reason, gave me hope.  See my middle name is Marie, which is derivation of Mary.  As I have matriculated into adulthood, I learned the meaning of my name as,

"Usual English form of Maria, which was the Latin form of the New Testament Greek names Μαριαμ (Mariam) and Μαρια (Maria) - the spellings are interchangeable - which were from the Hebrew name מִרְיָם (Miryam). The meaning is not known for certain, but there are several theories including "sea of bitterness", "rebelliousness", and "wished for child"."

And there were ways in which that sat heavily with me - that my name reflected a "sea of bitterness." That my identity - especially as I processed through heavy topics and need for deep healing - was somehow unable to be separated from this idea of bitterness.  It's a small thing, but in especially dark periods, it felt heavy.   Like that was my identity rather than just being my name.  But, I was surprised and gifted today, when on a whim, I looked up my name again - just for kicks and giggles - and found to my surprise, the usual entry appended with this additional meaning,

"However it was most likely originally an Egyptian name, perhaps derived in part from mry "beloved" or mr "love"."

Fitting perhaps, as I journey on this long path of coming to see my identity as Beloved, named by my Heavenly Father.  It's a small thing.  But today it feels like a gift.  :)  I have been given a name  and it is not bitter, disappointing, rebellious, failure, fraud.

I am called Beloved.

watering the tomatoes

On behalf of pregnant women everywhere, thank you, to the woman or man who invented the swimming pool, for giving us a means by which to get low-impact exercise and feel weightless in the process.  Thank you.  Really.  And that is all on that subject, at least for now.

The baby is kicking now - little flutters of presence inside - what a weird and beautiful feeling.

So, I will confess that even in beginning this blog, it was driven more out of necessity - knowing that writing is good for my soul, that externally processing is healthy for me, that I need to be transparent in the presence of others - rather than true overflow of inspiration.  In the past 3 days since launching, I have wrestled with what to even write about, how to even begin the process of writing again... it's like trying to do derivatives and integrals again, when you haven't looked at them since college - looks vaguely familiar, you recognize what you need to know, but the "active ability" part of the brain isn't fully activated.

But in the effort to get the juices flowing again, let's start simple and honest.

As I am exiting full-time ministry, and coming out of the hibernation and denial that followed the initial exit, I am coming to the realization that I am more burned out than I thought I was.  I am not burned out completely.  I am not withered, hopeless, and faithless, but I am desperately in need of refreshing, washing, watering, renewing.

My husband and I are trying our hands at growing a fire escape garden this summer.  We started everything from seed in our living room and, initially at least, were exceptionally attentive plant parents, even going as far as buying a full spectrum light bulb, to ensure that our babies were getting enough sunlight.  In recent days, our garden has graduated to "real" sunlight and independence on the fire escape, gaining most of their nourishment naturally and occasionally from us lovingly watering them.

When the tomatoes were seedlings, all they needed was a little bit of water, and they were completely satisfied, healthy, and seemed to thrive.  But as they have grown up, their roots have grown and their needs have deepened.

A few weeks ago, I noticed that half of our now 2 feet tall tomatoes, which had been completely healthy the day before, with their little bit of water, were withered, with leaves shriveled up and stems drooping.  What had appeared healthy, now seemed dying.  Time, and hot days, had revealed what we hadn't yet recognized -  our little tomatoes, while they could subsist on a little bit of water, were not receiving the sustenance that they needed.

Yet they were not dead, withered and gone.  They simply needed more water.  And what they had subsisted on before, was simply not enough - it wasn't the wrong water, or bad water, they just need more than they had before.  And it wasn't because they had stagnated; in fact, completely the opposite.  Their increased need for water was precisely because they had grown.

I am like those tomato plants right now.  I am not withered, hopeless, dying inside - I simply have subsisted on less real water and nourishment than I needed for a lot longer than I should have.  But unlike the tomato plants, I was so busy that I did not notice the ways in which I was shriveling and my soul was begging for more water.   Now, in the exposing presence of time, heat, rest, and change, the real need is becoming more clear.  

I am desperately in need of refreshing, washing, watering, and renewing.  I need more water.  And that's not a bad thing.  

Yes, there are dead branches that need to be pruned and weevils that need to be terminated.  They are wounds and holes, and honest hurt that need to be healed.  There is false entitlement that has turned into anger, which has morphed into bitterness, that needs to be dealt with.  Yes, those are part of my near burnout.  But before I can even begin to get to those, I simply need to rest in a deep soul soaking rain - deep and real water, which reaches to the core, waters the roots, and washes those places that haven't received water in quite some time.  

// Lord I want more of You // Living water rain down on me // Lord I need more of You // Living breath of life come fill me up // [casting crowns, "hungry"]

[title and welcome]

So it's been a long time [almost 2 years] since I last blogged.  Call it life, call it busyness, call it lack of motivation, I'm sure there are a million-and-one reasons - some of them valid, some less than - regardless, I find myself in a season in life, where it would healthy for me to regularly externally process.  Thus, after a long hiatus, here I am.  

This blog is transitioning from five small stones because as I've thought about where I am today, my story today, the new title feels more appropriate.  Whereas five-small-stones was a process of learning how God could take my little, my insufficiency, my weakness - my small stones - and use it for his glory, two years has brought me to a place where the lesson that God seems to repeatedly teach is that I am enough - more than that, that I am delightful to Him -  with or without my "little bit."  

Jesus loves me, this I know.  Simple Gospel, taught well to small children, but so beautifully unconditional.  Maybe simple isn't such a bad thing.

I have been given a new name.  Not disappointment.  Not "not enough."  Not failure or fraud.  

Beloved.  Daughter.  Delight.  

Even in my messiness, trying to muddle my way through life - and yes, much of this blog will be the awkwardness that is my life - I am enough.  Beloved and delighted in, even.  

In the midst of a beautiful and good marriage that is fraught with the mess of two imperfect humans, in the middle of discombobulated family, in the chaos of trying to figure out how to be parents, in the panic of trying to discern how to balance job transition and career and goals and family and marriage and still get the floors vacuumed occasionally, throughout the roller-coaster that is pregnancy hormones, in all my awkward stories, and in the midst trying to push through burnout and anger and the MESS that cannot be summarized neatly - I am called beloved.  And in that, is a freedom to process and be transparent with everything else above.  Because in the security of knowing that I am called Beloved, I also hear the truth that the chaos, the mess, the awkwardness, is not who I am.  It does not define me. 

That is good news for me today.  

Welcome to this blog.  And I hope you enjoy the ride.  :)