February 2006-
Day one: hopeful. I see a break in the fog that has consumed me for so long. There have been so many seasons, lacking of sunshine. It has not fallen on my world or my mind in months. Long days that overlap into one muffled voice where I can not even hear my own. Occasional moments of hope that last only for moments in my world of overcrowded streets where I am only a ghost even unto myself. Fragments of thought drifting through cotton webs that are trapped in my mind. Then there was hope. I dragged myself out of my bed of comfortable silence and in to the sterile domain of white coats and clipboards. Clipboards and yellow paper that held my emotional state in words of organized symptoms and possible cures. I put my life in this mans hands, took my walls down and asked for hope to cure this horrible daze that I have been in for so long. The remedy was easily accessible and came neatly packaged as it had before.
Fourteen years of this. Seasons would come and go, and when they left, I felt elated. The snow would melt and I would bloom as the daffodils and tulips did every year. Sunshine would fill the world around me and my mind as well. Then the leaves would fall, and I would tell myself that I was fine, that this year would be different. I would pass this season, the sun may go down around me, but it would remain in my mind. The clouds of depression would not fill my world. Not this year. But to no avail. My fears always surfaced, just as the snow always fell in January. The bitterness of my depression and the biting cold of winter. Two friends reunited in bittersweet harmony.
January 2007-
Days are too long and too cold. Life seems the same sometimes and I am left to just sit here and watch as the world goes on by, by itself without me. Yesterday was too short by the time I realized it was gone. Today, despite the half-dead state I have been in, has been eternal in its madness. Time is playing tricks on me. This life is surreal and the sounds of every day life have become like a scouring pad, scrubbing at the base of my brain all day. Sleep is the only peace that I have. Even the birds have lost their tune. The sky has gone from blue to gray and the trees weep in the naked cold. I can’t get out of this. I am sentenced to this prison for eternity it seems. Nothing I do matters. Nothing I say makes any difference to anyone. There is no one to call. No one to visit and no one to share this pain with. I just need someone to see me. Someone to feel me. Someone to hear what I am saying and hear what lies in between. That is where I am, in between. In life I am left to walk in between where normal people walk. This is a place where I am forgotten. Where I am invisible and left to my own devises. I can’t even hear their voices anymore. I don’t know what they sound like what they look like what it means to be one of them. I am lonely and scared and I tremble to hold back the tears that are becoming too strong for me once again. Nothing works. No one cares. No one even knows I am here.
December 2008-
The webs of depression have been cleared. The shadows of yesterday’s confusion seem but a distant fragmented memory. The sun has risen, the clouds have cleared. The flowers are now ever-blooming. I hear the birds sing their tune, as if it came directly from my own heart. Joy has surfaced. Life has revealed itself as a something to behold. As a song is to be sung, so is life meant to be lived. My heart is open, my mind is clear. Like a serene blue lake, crystal-clear like glass. The waves have crested, drawn back, and settled; revealing the depth that lies beneath. The beauty, the deep and abiding beauty. Seen by eyes that have been cleared by the hand of God himself. His love has lifted me above the waves. His grace has showered over me. His living waters have cleansed me. He has given me a new song to sing. A new heart to feel. New eyes to see. Keep me Oh, Lord. Keep me in your loving arms. Keep my eyes clear, my mind at peace. Show me the way through this season that once contained only darkness. Shine your light on every moment. Darkness can only exist without light, and where there is God, there is light.
12/1/08
Peace. Peace is what I seek
I am frustrated lately. It seems every year at this time, there is a limitless amount of frustration that just keeps accumulating and fogging up my mind, my spirit, my life. This year, I thought would be different, for huge reasons, the main being that I know who I am, and why I am here. God called me into his family. I am here. This is the place that I was meant to be all this time. Now it is Christmas, the birthday of my Savior and King. I did think this year would be different. The stress of the holidays would magically disappear. The reason for the season would keep its place in my heart and mind. I would focus on what is truly important. But, for reasons I can only explain as a spiritual attack, I find myself at the same place I have found myself in for years.
Stress. Money. Gifts. Dinners. Baking. Travel. Money. Gifts. Parents. Aunts. Cousins. Money. Gifts.
I sat and cried yesterday. Why do I do this to myself? For years, even before I became a Christian, I tried to protest the materialism that has run amok in this country; not only at Christmas time, but in our everyday lives. We consume 90% of this worlds resources, and we are only 5% of the population. I have spent the last five years trying to wean my children from materialism. At Christmas we cut way back, every year. There are small birthday parties. Thrift store clothing. Homemade presents for family. Made- from-scratch food. I try to do all I can not only to impact how my children view things, but to try and change the way I impact the world.
I do all of this and yet, at this time of year, when my mind should be thinking about the birth of our Savior and the eventual second coming of the Messiah, I am stuck in this place of stress and guilt. Guilt for not having enough money to buy the kids a myriad of gifts, even though I don’t think it is important. Guilt for not buying my parents gifts and having to make them breads and chocolate covered pretzels. Guilt for showing up to the in-laws house with empty hands. I feel guilty for all of this. And stress!
Every year Tim and I say to each other, “this year we are going to tell all of them that this is not what Christmas is about. Please do not buy us anything, because we are not going to buy you anything. We cannot afford it, it causes stress, and it is just not what this season is about.” And every year we end up stressing out, our hearts hardened, our minds elsewhere; focused on money and gifts.
And because of what? Because of a tradition honoring St. Nicholas? He was a devout Christian. He loved Jesus so very much. His faith is what lead him to give his money to the poor in the first place. He never wanted credit for the blessings he gave. He was a literal believer that you do not let your left hand in on what your right hand is doing. He gave without wanting anything in return. He gave out of the love he had in his heart. He gave because he felt lead, through his faith in God, to do so. Nicholas. St. Nicholas. Sinter Claus. Santa Clause. Now we idolize this godly man. We make him into something he never wanted to be. We surround this season with commercialized images of him to sell merchandise. We have become idolaters and we have taken the meaning out of Christmas.
So instead of feeling like I want to give to those I love because I love them, and I am called to give with a gracious heart, I am begrudgingly giving out of a sense of obligation, because that is what this season has become. Obligatory.
I don’t want that anymore. I want small, intimate family dinners. A gift for each of my children, as a symbol of what God so freely gave to us. Love, peace, harmony. Unity between family members. A time to reflect on the past year, to give thanks for all of the blessings that God has so graciously bestowed up my family. Time to give thanks for the most precious gift of all, the gift of salvation, love, and mercy.
“For God so loved the world that he gave His only begotten son, that whoever believeth in Him, shall not perish, but have everlasting life.”
I believe, but I want more than a belief. I want a life change. I see idolatry in my life and the life of other Christians as one of the biggest problems facing us right now. We spend more time worshiping other Gods, like money, materialism, pagan traditions, television, sports, and on and on, than we do worshiping and honoring our Lord and Heavenly Father. This time of year, I see it more than ever in my own life; all of this guilt and stress because I am not able to honor a tradition that has gone horribly array? What is wrong with me? I hate the world for having so much influence on my life. I hate the world for what it stands for. I hate that I get reprimanded for telling my six year old that Santa Clause is NOT real, and reprimanded by the same person for telling him that Jesus IS a real person. How dare I stand up for the truth and try to teach my children the truth.
More than ever Lord, I cry out to you. Give me strength to honor you in all I do. Give me the peace that surpasses all understanding that comes only from you. Give me wisdom to know which battles to fight and where to turn the other cheek. Give me guidance and direction, that I may know where to turn at every intersection in my life. And Lord may my heart ever be seeking you. May you be the most important person in my life, and may my life reflect that, Lord. Forgive me for following the world, Lord. Forgive me for turning away from you. You are all I want, all I need, Lord. May my life, my speech, and my behavior reflect that. Open my ears that I may hear you and open my heart that I may know your ways.
Stress. Money. Gifts. Dinners. Baking. Travel. Money. Gifts. Parents. Aunts. Cousins. Money. Gifts.
I sat and cried yesterday. Why do I do this to myself? For years, even before I became a Christian, I tried to protest the materialism that has run amok in this country; not only at Christmas time, but in our everyday lives. We consume 90% of this worlds resources, and we are only 5% of the population. I have spent the last five years trying to wean my children from materialism. At Christmas we cut way back, every year. There are small birthday parties. Thrift store clothing. Homemade presents for family. Made- from-scratch food. I try to do all I can not only to impact how my children view things, but to try and change the way I impact the world.
I do all of this and yet, at this time of year, when my mind should be thinking about the birth of our Savior and the eventual second coming of the Messiah, I am stuck in this place of stress and guilt. Guilt for not having enough money to buy the kids a myriad of gifts, even though I don’t think it is important. Guilt for not buying my parents gifts and having to make them breads and chocolate covered pretzels. Guilt for showing up to the in-laws house with empty hands. I feel guilty for all of this. And stress!
Every year Tim and I say to each other, “this year we are going to tell all of them that this is not what Christmas is about. Please do not buy us anything, because we are not going to buy you anything. We cannot afford it, it causes stress, and it is just not what this season is about.” And every year we end up stressing out, our hearts hardened, our minds elsewhere; focused on money and gifts.
And because of what? Because of a tradition honoring St. Nicholas? He was a devout Christian. He loved Jesus so very much. His faith is what lead him to give his money to the poor in the first place. He never wanted credit for the blessings he gave. He was a literal believer that you do not let your left hand in on what your right hand is doing. He gave without wanting anything in return. He gave out of the love he had in his heart. He gave because he felt lead, through his faith in God, to do so. Nicholas. St. Nicholas. Sinter Claus. Santa Clause. Now we idolize this godly man. We make him into something he never wanted to be. We surround this season with commercialized images of him to sell merchandise. We have become idolaters and we have taken the meaning out of Christmas.
So instead of feeling like I want to give to those I love because I love them, and I am called to give with a gracious heart, I am begrudgingly giving out of a sense of obligation, because that is what this season has become. Obligatory.
I don’t want that anymore. I want small, intimate family dinners. A gift for each of my children, as a symbol of what God so freely gave to us. Love, peace, harmony. Unity between family members. A time to reflect on the past year, to give thanks for all of the blessings that God has so graciously bestowed up my family. Time to give thanks for the most precious gift of all, the gift of salvation, love, and mercy.
“For God so loved the world that he gave His only begotten son, that whoever believeth in Him, shall not perish, but have everlasting life.”
I believe, but I want more than a belief. I want a life change. I see idolatry in my life and the life of other Christians as one of the biggest problems facing us right now. We spend more time worshiping other Gods, like money, materialism, pagan traditions, television, sports, and on and on, than we do worshiping and honoring our Lord and Heavenly Father. This time of year, I see it more than ever in my own life; all of this guilt and stress because I am not able to honor a tradition that has gone horribly array? What is wrong with me? I hate the world for having so much influence on my life. I hate the world for what it stands for. I hate that I get reprimanded for telling my six year old that Santa Clause is NOT real, and reprimanded by the same person for telling him that Jesus IS a real person. How dare I stand up for the truth and try to teach my children the truth.
More than ever Lord, I cry out to you. Give me strength to honor you in all I do. Give me the peace that surpasses all understanding that comes only from you. Give me wisdom to know which battles to fight and where to turn the other cheek. Give me guidance and direction, that I may know where to turn at every intersection in my life. And Lord may my heart ever be seeking you. May you be the most important person in my life, and may my life reflect that, Lord. Forgive me for following the world, Lord. Forgive me for turning away from you. You are all I want, all I need, Lord. May my life, my speech, and my behavior reflect that. Open my ears that I may hear you and open my heart that I may know your ways.
5/8/08
Food Shopping -or- Why does my chicken feed taste like chicken?
So, today is one of those days where I just rant. However, my rants mean something. I am not complaining to just complain. Well, maybe, but there is a deeper desire. It is one of ill-content. What comes with ill-content, is a need for change. And change is good. The desire for change is a most desirable thing. Which is why this rant has become a resounding gong in my head.
I am at Walmart. Right off the bat, I know that is where my problem lies. I am in this store that I abhorrently loathe. Why am I here? Because I am poor. Because I haven't enough money to do all my shopping locally and organically. However, today is different. I am walking down these aisles looking for food that is good for us. I am in the cereal aisle. I normally buy the same thing every week, a bag Honey nut Scooters, or a bag of Crisp Rice cereal. The equivalent of Honey nut cheerios and Rice Crispies of course. I buy them because I can get 39 ounces of cereal for about $4.70. That's pretty cheap. Today, I can't buy anything. Everything I look at seems toxic to me. I know that over half the crap in here is genetically modified in some way or another, and that just freaks me out. So I end up buying the Quaker old fashioned oats. It's what I normally buy along with the bagged cereal, but today, it is the only breakfast item I purchase. Even that makes me feel cautious. It is the healthiest product in the entire aisle. With only one ingredient, you know you are getting a quality whole food. Or do you? Is this a GMO (genetically modified organism)? Have these oats been altered?! I don't want altered oats. I want oats that my grandmother ate. I want oats that have heirloom quality. But how do I know what I am getting? There are no signs that say, "Hey, these here oats are missing part of their genetic makeup. But we added something else to it. It might make your daughters grow breasts at 8 years old, but we make one hell of a profit. " No, there are no signs. No labels. Nothing.
Does anyone else know this? Does everyone feel alright about putting all this crap into our bodies? I don't know where half this food comes from. I don't feel OK about it. I definitely feel weird about it. Weird, like science fiction weird, and I have never liked science fiction. Except Star Trek. Star Wars as well. And of course, Hitchhikers Guide...well, it's still weird. It is disconcerting. What to do... that is where I am. What do I do. What do I eat. The only thing I've eaten today has been two organic pears, and some fair trade coffee. Which isn't even organic. I can't find a bag of fair trade, organic coffee to save my life. It's either one or the other. I am about to eat two cage free eggs, but I realize that I don't even know what their standards are. I think of cage free, and I think of pasture. Even then, on the carton it says they are being fed a diet of high quality corn and soy products. The most genetically modified food out there. So, as a consumer I can't win.
If you want to know more about Genetically Modified food, please visit the following site. Read it thoroughly and act. With all the issues we are having with our food supply and the rising cost of food, it is time we rethink how we eat and what we buy. Communities must come together to form cooperative food networks so that people can eat healthy, sustainable food, and support local farmers at the same time. If my great great grandmother Ada was still here, she would wonder why we eat like we do. It would be nonsensical for her, that we were not growing and preserving our own foods. She would see all the problems we are having with ecoli and mad cow disease, and look at us as if we were idiots. Mass production of foods, factory farms where animals are fed their own by products and waste, genetically modified corn. We are idiots if we accept this as the norm. This is not normal. This is definitely weird.
www.responsibletechnology.org
I am at Walmart. Right off the bat, I know that is where my problem lies. I am in this store that I abhorrently loathe. Why am I here? Because I am poor. Because I haven't enough money to do all my shopping locally and organically. However, today is different. I am walking down these aisles looking for food that is good for us. I am in the cereal aisle. I normally buy the same thing every week, a bag Honey nut Scooters, or a bag of Crisp Rice cereal. The equivalent of Honey nut cheerios and Rice Crispies of course. I buy them because I can get 39 ounces of cereal for about $4.70. That's pretty cheap. Today, I can't buy anything. Everything I look at seems toxic to me. I know that over half the crap in here is genetically modified in some way or another, and that just freaks me out. So I end up buying the Quaker old fashioned oats. It's what I normally buy along with the bagged cereal, but today, it is the only breakfast item I purchase. Even that makes me feel cautious. It is the healthiest product in the entire aisle. With only one ingredient, you know you are getting a quality whole food. Or do you? Is this a GMO (genetically modified organism)? Have these oats been altered?! I don't want altered oats. I want oats that my grandmother ate. I want oats that have heirloom quality. But how do I know what I am getting? There are no signs that say, "Hey, these here oats are missing part of their genetic makeup. But we added something else to it. It might make your daughters grow breasts at 8 years old, but we make one hell of a profit. " No, there are no signs. No labels. Nothing.
Does anyone else know this? Does everyone feel alright about putting all this crap into our bodies? I don't know where half this food comes from. I don't feel OK about it. I definitely feel weird about it. Weird, like science fiction weird, and I have never liked science fiction. Except Star Trek. Star Wars as well. And of course, Hitchhikers Guide...well, it's still weird. It is disconcerting. What to do... that is where I am. What do I do. What do I eat. The only thing I've eaten today has been two organic pears, and some fair trade coffee. Which isn't even organic. I can't find a bag of fair trade, organic coffee to save my life. It's either one or the other. I am about to eat two cage free eggs, but I realize that I don't even know what their standards are. I think of cage free, and I think of pasture. Even then, on the carton it says they are being fed a diet of high quality corn and soy products. The most genetically modified food out there. So, as a consumer I can't win.
If you want to know more about Genetically Modified food, please visit the following site. Read it thoroughly and act. With all the issues we are having with our food supply and the rising cost of food, it is time we rethink how we eat and what we buy. Communities must come together to form cooperative food networks so that people can eat healthy, sustainable food, and support local farmers at the same time. If my great great grandmother Ada was still here, she would wonder why we eat like we do. It would be nonsensical for her, that we were not growing and preserving our own foods. She would see all the problems we are having with ecoli and mad cow disease, and look at us as if we were idiots. Mass production of foods, factory farms where animals are fed their own by products and waste, genetically modified corn. We are idiots if we accept this as the norm. This is not normal. This is definitely weird.
www.responsibletechnology.org
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