Margins

As some of you might know, Jon and I have some big decisions, big steps, and big transitions coming up.  We have a lot to process, and we are actively processing a lot.

From where to live to what to do, to when to do it, to what comes next for our family, to what's going on presently for our family, even down to silly things like trying to locate a place where it snows a lot and has beautiful falls and warm summers... and is affordable.  Plus those little things like the continual processing of our ever-growing identities, to some tough and faith-testing circumstances of late, to how to raise a very wiggly toddler well... well, you get the picture.  We're processing a lot and it often feels like we have a lot on our plates.

One of the things I love about InterVarsity New England in particular, is that they take the spiritual health and well-being of their staff seriously.  So, in addition to all of the other conferences, trips, retreats, and work events they have... they also have a staff spiritual formation retreat... 3 days specifically designed to give staff space for their own personal spiritual formation.  Time to listen.  Time to be silent.  Time to be with God and to hear from God, not for the sake of work, although it blesses work, but for the sake of your own heart and soul.   Seriously, they are one things that I miss the most about being on IV staff.  In the midst of the busy, it's a slowing down and perspective shifting that everyone - in ministry and out of it - would benefit from.

Anyhoo - Jon just got back from one a few weeks ago, and one of the things that he brought back with him, was that we needed to do a better job creating margins in our lives.  Space, for God, and for each other.  Non-busy time.  Unplugged time.  Intentionally silent time.  Space, so that we actually can unpack the internal world and the external questions.  While for us it is a Christian, spiritual thing - it is an idea that transcends that - and time and time again is shown to be ridiculously good for human beings to actually have non-noisy space.  Down time, and internal world check-ins, if you will.

Not out of obligations, or a 30 minute mandatory check-off-the-list "quiet time." And not even all about prayer or contemplation or even all process time.  But space where we are not noisy and are not busy and are not constantly moving.   Space for sanity, so we're not "on" from the moment that we wake up until the moment that we fall into bed.  Space so that we both start and stop work intentionally.  Space so that we are beings as well as doings.  Space, so that we actually can have some bandwidth to process some of those heavy-plate things that we're processing.  It's unbelievably hard, by the way, to process anything, with any depth, when you're constantly on.

It's like a dell laptop - the old ones with the really sucky fans (you know what I'm talking about) - left on for like 2 months, with no cool-down time, then being asked to run a multifunction process.  In less than 10 years.  Not going to happen.  Or at very least, not going to be pretty.

So, we're doing it.  We're putting margins in our day.  With a 9 month old.   With two working parents.  With days that start early (our son) and end late (working with college students).  And a lot on our plates.

What does that practically look like?  It's not super complicated or super spiritual at all - and is made easier by the fact that our son does *normally* sleep pretty well.  We get up half an hour earlier, we ask our son to stay in his crib, if he wakes early, until a certain time and have his own personal play-time.  We have "radio silent" time, where all our electronics are off - both in the morning and in the evening - giving us margins and space first thing and last thing in the day.  We go to bed early enough so that we can wake up a little bit before our day has to start.  We are ((trying)) not to eat our meals in front of the television, but actually at the table next to each other, with one another.  And we have start and stop times to work.

Do we do it always?  Absolutely not.  Are we trying daily? Yes.  Do we give ourselves days off, where we can stay up and watch as many episodes of LOST as we want?  Yes, absolutely.

But can I tell you something about margins? About radio silence?  It feels weird at first.  Eerily unconnected (::what if something major happens on facebook and I don't know until tomorrow?????::) But it is also weirdly freeing.  Calming.  Refreshing.  Like breathing fresh air.  Like the busy has a limit, not because it has an end or a cessation, but because we choose to place limits on it.  And you know what?  The work gets done.  And even though we technically have less time, it feels like we have more.

I'm not writing this to shame anyone - in fact, I'm really writing it because we're not great at it, and could use the encouragement of other people knowing and maybe asking us every once in a while.   In fact, honest truth, I both checked my phone in silent time AND slept in past my alarm this morning.   And we ate in front of the television last night.  ::gasp:: And I am writing this this afternoon, because it's not a law, and there is grace.  We're not pros but we're learning, and we're still trying, day-in and day-out, to put intentional space in our days.  And we're inviting you into our process.

I'm writing it as a reminder to myself, that it does actually matter.  That space is a good thing.  That it's counter-cultural, but worth-while.  That we need the space.  That we can do this.  Choosing, daily.

And I'm writing it, hopefully as an encouragement to you, that space is actually a good thing.  That yes, it takes intentionality, yes it is hard, and yes, it is totally counter-cultural.  But it is worth it.  And that no matter how busy your life might seem - students, I know.  Trust me.  I was an 7am to 3am gal in college too.  Parents, I know. They're everywhere.  Always.  And oh so noisy.  But we all generally have the capacity to create space (exceptions - like the first 6 weeks of parenthood - certainly apply, but are, in general, the exception, not the rule), even if it can't be fully silent or alone (parents) or can't be in the morning (college students) or can't be [x] (for you).   Our phones/computers/ipads/gadgets have an off/silent button, and we (for the most part) have the capacity to put a limit on the busy, somewhere in our days.

Maybe this is not for you right now.  And my intention is not to say that it has to be - please forgive me, if it comes across that way - but it is the invitation for us right now.  And it's something that I'm grateful for, wrestling with, longing for, and working towards, so... there ya go. :)

- KD

Most Helpful Baby Products, 9 months in

Warning: mommy blog post to follow.  :)  Feel free to disengage now if that's not your thing.  But in the spirit of new found freedom, here ya go; this is one of the more lighthearted things I've been thinking about this week, among other things.  And this is totally more fun than vocabulary words or math problems, or studying for my first standardized test in over a decade, or all the hard things that I'm exhausted from thinking about, or figuring out our lives, or you know, all those other grown-up things which seem to take so much energy and time.

Most Helpful Baby Products that we used Way More than I Ever Thought we would:

this baby bib: it's made of silicone, it has a spill catcher, it's super easy to wash/clean, and it keeps food from going all over my son.  It was a gift from friends Lynn and Jeremy, and we use it literally every meal that we eat at home.  for S, not for Jon and me, although if they made grown-up ones, I'd think about it.  seriously is going to become my go-to baby-shower gift.

Itzbeen Baby Timer: a friend recommended this, and especially for those first few months of sleep-deprivation/exhaustion, where you can't really remember where your face is, let alone how long ago you fed the baby, this was great.  simple push of a button, bam - extra brain RAM.

the baby wipe warmer: no specific brand, and I honestly thought this was kind of dumb, excessive, unnecessary, etc.  But in the middle of the night when our son would scream because of cold bottom meets colder wipes, and this made this difference between happy 3am changes and scream-y ones, it was totally worth it.

a solid baby carrier - used almost daily.  We started out with a Bjorn when he was little, and then graduated to an Ergo a few weeks ago.  I think if I were to do it again, I'd just do the Ergo, but both served their purposes well - the Ergo is just more versatile, a bit more comfortable, and better for older, e.g. heavier, babies.  And makes a huge difference when you walk a ton, or live in a city that isn't entirely stroller accessible.

Baby spoons which turn white if the food is too hot.  Totally unnecessary, and not something I would pay more to have, but definitely saves a step if it's been a long day and you have a screamy hungry baby.

Pack n Play - S's bed of choice for 3 months, and then our travel bed, guest baby bed, etc.

Baby Trend Jogging Stroller-  much cheaper than its contemporaries, but we've found it to be great, even after heavy usage for 9 months.

Medela Double Electric Breast Pump: if you're planning on going back to work, or leaving baby at all, ever, and are planning to breast-feed, make sure you get a comfortable, good quality pump.  While I loath all things pumping, having a good one as made a huge difference, when you have to hang out with it fairly often.  The Lansinoh hand-pump is also not terrible, for less frequent needs.  I thought about naming mine, I hung out with it so much, but that was just too weird (eww), so we passed.  Also, insurance covers it in most states.  Ask your health care provider.

A paci clip.  Doesn't matter who makes it - crafty friends can make this easily and super cheaply.  But when your kid loves his paci, and loves throwing his paci, or talking, or opening his mouth, or losing his paci regularly, this is an absolute necessity.  Unless you like searching everywhere for the paci.  Or constantly doing the bend and grab.  In which case, enjoy, and disregard.

And for us, with lots of travel, a small sound machine has been a life-saver for helping baby sleep in new places, as well as blocking out noise from small apartment living and noisy neighbors, and sharing rooms, and all those other lovely things.

So there ya go.  Feel free to use any/all/none of it.  :)

Being the Pinata

There are some weeks, where life just seems to catch us, hang us up by the nuts like a piñata, and then take a few more swings.  And then you're just hanging there - bruised, battered, and waiting for the final blow, and the candy to all fall out.  But it hasn't come yet.  So you're just waiting...  and waiting.  And waiting.

This has been one of those weeks.  I apologize for speaking vaguely, but this is neither the space nor the time to elaborate more on that, suffice to say, I'll probably share more later, and it's been a helluvaweek.  And if you're the praying type, well, you know what to do...  and thank you.

But all that to say, as I've found myself in the midst of this week, in the midst of the hanging upside down, waiting for whatever comes next, I've found myself face-to-face with the ease with which I slide into preparing for the worst always - preparing for the final piñata-splitting blow, as if it were inevitable rather than possible.  Writing blog posts (in my head) processing the worst, even though it hasn't happened yet.  Preparing myself mentally to come undone.  Mapping out every possible alternative and possible outcome, most of them not positive.   Letting fear steal joy, even after writing this post so recently.  Even looking for metaphors for the candy, within my own hypothetical piñata metaphor.

And at some point, a few nights ago, I had to stop myself, and realize...

Whether it will, or won't, happen - it hasn't happened yet.  And while not blindly ignoring the possibilities - on either side, positive or negative - I cannot live in a reality that has not yet happened.

Either way, somehow I have to find a way to live in the now.  Even with all its uncertainties, fears, hopes, and unknown.

So me, us, at the moment?

We're clinging to the crucified, broken, victorious Savior. 

At church this morning, during communion, I was struck by the fact that what we are told to remember is "His body broken for you... His blood, poured out for you."  Our Messiah, our hope, is not just a good teacher, telling us how to be whole from a high and lofty place.  But broken, bruised, and bleeding on our behalf, in the trenches with us - and able to lift our heads, because he rose from the dead, in victory out of and over that place, those places.  He is not a stranger to brokenness, or pain.  He weeps alongside us.  And while He does promise to bring beauty out of the ashes, he does not scorn the ashes, the tears, or the hard places.  And so we cling, in hope, to Him - the resurrected, victorious Messiah, who still bears the holes from the nails - in this place.

We're looking for joy in the now.

Not a false joy, which ignores and says that the hard places - the now - does not exist.  Not a happy-go-lucky joy which tries to put a smile on your face and smile away the clouds.  But a sober thankfulness, which acknowledges the joyful things present in the now, in full-light of the hard.  And part of that is looking outside of myself, and being thankful out loud for others.

We're letting ourselves feel.

The full spectrum. With full grace.  And not trying to figure out what we "should" be feeling or "should" be doing or "should" be thinking or "should" know.  Should can be absolutely toxic to growth or healing when it leads us to try and live a life other than our own.  And there is a time and place for moving on, moving forward, but it's not just yet.

We're hoping.

Not blindly.  But with true realism, in the balance of what ifs.  And asking for what we want, not what we think is realistic or plausible, or most likely.  With "thy will be done", yes, but with true desires expressed, that trust that God wants to hear our unlimited hopes not a cautious answer that we think is reasonable.

We're letting friends love us and care for us.

And that adds to the thankfulness.  I hold to, our understanding of friendship will never be deeper or stronger than when we're a mess and we let someone else, who is trustworthy and close, in.

And we're waiting.  In the now, not in the future.  

It's not conclusive, but that's where we are, so that's where we end for now.

KD