April 5, 2006
Screaming at the Ocean
We live in Oklahoma City as of 8 months ago after living in San Luis Obispo, CA for the almost five years before that. Chris and I both grew up in Reno, NV (high school sweethearts ...*sigh*...) and both of our families still live there. I stay at home with Ezra during the day and Chris works really hard as a painting contractor. When he puts on his 'painting whites' every morning I groggily think to myself "he's a musician dressed in white" before I fall back asleep for a few minutes or crawl out to the couch to watch early morning PBS shows with Ezra. Life is more-or-less good, except on those days when it's not. We want more out of life but sometimes can't see past the pile of bills sitting on the dining room table.
Even if no one ever reads this, I still feel strangely excited about it. I'm getting all of these mommy-thoughts and mommy-concerns off of my chest. It's like standing on an empty beach and screaming at the ocean. No one has heard you, but somehow you feel heard. The beach hasn't changed one iota because of your screaming, and neither has the ocean, but you've changed, because you feel lighter... like the breath you just wheezed out was too heavy in your lungs or something.
I think this is why I love the book of Psalms in the Bible. The book of Psalms is totally King David's blog. mwa ha hee. He's so up and down, yet he isn't afraid to tell it like it is. If he feels like saying, "God- wipe out all my enemies. Leave their bodies out to rot somewhere and curse their children and their children's children, OK?" , he just says it. And I know that David's anger is maybe quite different than mine because his anger is holy anger... It's in defense of God's Glory, against those who mock his God... But maybe (just maybe) my anger is a tiny-bit holy too.
Like, "God this world is ridiculously hard and lonely sometimes, and I'm pretty pissed about that. When did You say You were coming back, again?"
I think these feelings are holy because it's letting yourself feel the separation between you and God and acknowledging that this is not how it's supposed to be. It's just a matter of keeping this feeling of disappointment in balance, I guess. Yes, life is hard and overwhelming, but if Ezra is refusing to nap at the time I think he should, it shouldn't send me spiraling off of the edge of sanity like it often does, right??
I mean, there are people in this world that face hell-ish injustice everyday, and they still live with a dignity and faith that I can't even pretend to understand. And yet, if my 14-month-old son has the audacity to refuse to sleep at 2:30pm, I find myself questioning God and telling Him that I don't think I'm fond of Him anymore (to put it nicely), and letting Him know that He's got the wrong girl because I am obviously not stable mommy material.
Two reasons why I wish we lived by our parents:
1. Free and willing babysitting privledges as outlined in 'The Grandparents Handbook' page 32, section 2, paragraph 4.
2. That feeling of comfort you get when you walk through the doors of wherever your parents are.
at 1:54 PM