(tap-tap) Is this thing on? (A Warm-up)

I don't think I even know how to blog anymore. How did I used to do this on a regular basis? Was I ignoring my family more? Getting less sleep? Because nowadays I feel like the end of the day comes and dang, I'm just ready for bed. It doesn't matter what time of the day it is, I feel guilty for being on the computer when I *should* be spending time with the kids or the husband, or cooking or cleaning or any number of chores. It's not like I can justify it by claiming an income... and I suppose I don't feel like I deserve simple recreational writing. I'm working on those layers, I'm working on it...

Oh my gosh seriously?! A minute ago, my whole family was in our tiny bathroom, which is right next to my bedroom where I'm snuggled up in bed typing... they were all yelling out their individual weird noises as they bathed, pooped, brushed, texted and filmed the whole hullabaloo. We are all crazy. And I LOVE it. But alone-time is a difficult thing to come by. We don't have enough room for us in our little house. It is true, even though we hold our chins up high and make the best of it. Because it could be worse, it could always be worse. But if I'm going to be completely honest, I am praying for a larger space, so the kids can spread their wings a little, so there are two bathrooms for the 7 of us (it's like Greg vs. Marsha all the time!) and so there are are places to retreat around here. And now my ridiculous husband is singing Don't Worry Be Happy, which is always a cruel thing to do because anyone knows that song gets stuck in your head and won't leave for days.

What I really want to write about is...... well, there is just so much. I never really know where to start.

Emoting Responsibly

I need to share my story. It just burns on my fingertips. Enough with the doubting and overthinking and just get on with it.

I will be sleeping on the couch tonight. And not because of the baby. The last few days have brought on a completely humbling experience and my head is taking it's sweet time to sort things out. There are so many angles to this one issue we're dealing with, I don't even want to describe it. But here is the part I own:

At times I have been so bitter about not being able to go to my husband for support and encouragement when I am discouraged, depressed or spiritually confused. I understand that he is in recovery and sometimes barely keeping his own head above water as he sorts out the life that brought him to today. But I long for him to be strong when I am weak, to hold me up when I feel like I am drowning! And maybe this is what husbands are supposed to do. I'm not even sure. But I know that to automatically expect this of him is wrong. If he does it, that's good. If I expect it, that's wrong. Because addiction or no addiction, he is still a man and could be in any sort of mood, and possibly unprepared for my need of rescue. Only God stands firm as a refuge 100% of the time. I am realizing that I have been holding out hope for the one day that my husband will be equal to God and be ever ready and waiting for my emotional tsunamis. That is not called recovery. That is called unrealistic.

Even when I am hurting and emotional, I need to be consistent in my love for others. Because I have been avoiding God in my attempt to wait patiently for my husband to reach divine status (how supportive of me!) I will fall recklessly into emotion until I cannot see past my own pain in those moments. If I am going to come to my husband for understanding, the mature thing is to make sure I'm not dragging with me things that are known triggers for him. I need to consider him, even when I am overcome with emotion. I need to remember that even when I am very emotional, I still have the capacity and responsibility to make choices that reflect love for God and others and even myself.

"Don't pick on people, jump on their failures, criticize their faults— unless, of course, you want the same treatment. Don't condemn those who are down; that hardness can boomerang. Be easy on people; you'll find life a lot easier. Give away your life; you'll find life given back, but not merely given back—given back with bonus and blessing. Giving, not getting, is the way. Generosity begets generosity." Luke 6.37-38, The Message

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There. I can agree with that. If only you knew the tumultuous conversation that has been going on around this lesson for me! Feminism, entitlement, codependency, body image and a heaping dose of personal pride, some useless and hurtful gossip shared by the husband... there are a lot of lies swirling around in my head that we need to just lay to rest; they are so painful. And I think they are beside the point, just wind blustering around the steady words of the Father.

"We don't yet see things clearly. We're squinting in a fog, peering through a mist. But it won't be long before the weather clears and the sun shines bright! We'll see it all then, see it all as clearly as God sees us, knowing him directly just as he knows us!
"But for right now, until that completeness, we have three things to do to lead us toward that consummation: Trust steadily in God, hope unswervingly, love extravagantly. And the best of the three is love." I Cor. 13.12-13, The Message

Prayer

This is my prayer, and what I want my prayer to be. And I think this week it's time I tried S-Anon....

I haven't been very real on my blog. One reason is that I have so much going on in my head and so little time to sort it out, much less write it down. The other is because I'm afraid of being judged; there, I said it. If I can't spit my thoughts out coherently, someone might get the wrong idea, which might have a variety of ramifications. I want to come to all the proper solutions before I write, so that every post can be this display of moral perfection. But when all I can see is sadness or anger or confusion, I write nothing. I can be really mean, and I don't want to be really mean publicly. I guess I'm afraid of anyone seeing me work it out, which is really sad to me because it's the "working it out" that holds the story.

But then I remember the part where I'm rarely allowed to think a complete thought, much less blog it, and I have to just forgive myself....