It Could Always Be Worse

"It could always be worse." This used to be one of Tre's favorite statements to me. I say "used to" because he doesn't say it much any more. I'm thankful because I always wanted to smack him hard when he'd say it. Not because I didn't believe it but because I wasn't interested in hearing it at the time. When you're feeling sorry for yourself, you want to be left alone.

As I sat down to write, I realized that it's been several days since I talked to my younger brother and his wife. I've been getting updates on my nephew here and there, but no chats. I've been feeling overwhelmed lately with the husband, kids, work and church. The house looks like a tornadic hurricane blew through it. I finally got my hair done, so I look a little less like a corpse. I've had short patience for dealing with nonsense. I'm just downright tired of foolishness in every area of my life. In the midst of my frustration, I haven't been praying as much as I should.

I've neglected to send thoughtful texts and pray constantly for the health of my precious nephew. It's not that I don't pray for him and his sister and parents, I just think I've been too focused on the mayhem in my life right now and have temporarily lost focus of the things that matter the most. After hearing about the past 7 days in my brother's life, I am reminded that my stress does not begin to compare to what they are dealing with. God has gently reminded me that he is ordering my steps each day and that He will bear my burdens. He is shifting my focus from my situation to that of my nephew. I am thankful for that. Praying for him is a more constructive way to spend my time.

It turns out that Tre was right. Don't tell him I said so please. It is easy to feel sorry for myself. It is easy to selfishly focus on my stresses and neglect those of others in the process. I don't want to be selfish any more. Thank you Lord for knocking some sense into me and telling me to get over myself.

The Death of Self-Respect

When I first started to date my mother gave me some tips (really threats, but tips is more P.C.), about how to conduct myself. She gave me money so that I could always get home on my own if necessary and pay for my own meal or movie. She told me not to accept gifts from men all willy nilly. Nothing is free. She would not permit me to call boys on the phone, they had to call me. "Chasing" men was strictly prohibited. Most of this stuff sounded completely insane to me. Not any more.

As I watch a culture of women "chase" men, I want to put them alone in a room with my mother so she can talk some sense into them. I'm tired of seeing strong, educated, intelligent women throw themselves at anyone with an XY chromosome complement. I do not want to continue to witness the complete loss of standards as women shack up with men indefinitely as they test out the product and try to decide if they're in love enough to "put a ring on it" as Beyonce' says. (although the Chipettes do it better in my opinion, but I digress)

Will this epidemic ever be remedied? Why are women settling for men just because they have the sperm necessary to shut up the biological clock? Why are women taking international trips with perfect strangers just because he's paying? Why are women content to share a married man with his wife just to avoid a few lonely nights? When did we forget to value ourselves? When and why did this shift take place? How can these fault lines be eradicated before generations of brilliant, beautiful women are swept away in their wake? This breaks my heart.

I don't want to answer these questions yet. Partially because I don't have many answers. Mostly because I really want to hear from all of you. Please leave comments. Tell your mamas to leave comments. Send your crazy friends over, and tell them to comment. I know each of you knows someone that you've secretly dreamt of smacking because they fit into one of the aforementioned categories. Here's your chance to vent. I'm waiting...

Bear With Me

Bear with this uncharacteristically long post. I'm going somewhere. My life is in a state of flux right now. My heart and mind are filled with thoughts that are dying to be posted, yet unfortunately many remain in the digital camera of my mind's eye. I know each of you can relate to the mayhem that ensues in our lives each day.

There are jobs that stress us out (if we let them). There are responsibilities in trying to keep your house from being declared a national disaster area (at which I'm failing miserably). Then there are the children who have more needs than a patient in a convalescent home (and I love them so dearly)! And let me not neglect to mention my handsome husband, the youth pastor/soccer coach/life coach/daddy daycare/... (who keeps me the busiest of all)!

Right now, me head is so full of hats that many of my thoughts have been lost under all of them. I am desperately working towards more structure and less clutter (in my brain, that is). I am paring down our schedules to include only essential things, however, I'm thinking we have a few too many "essentials" right now. Tre and I are also communicating and praying during this time of transitions to make sure that we don't get disconnected and lost in the fray.

As the only daughter of a busy pastor (my dad works full-time and still serves his parishioners), I watched the business in his life. I watched him work all day, come straight to my track meet, then rush off to the hospital before going home. I'm not sure when he ate. I remember him contemplating vacations because someone in the flock was sick in the hospital, and he was concerned about being too far away. I watched him come home with his work goggles and burned shirt (from sparks flying), rush up to shower and change in time to pick up kids for children's church. I could literally go on for hours, but it isn't necessary to make my point.

While I love the members of his church as much as my family, I did not always want to share him with them. Plus church folks aren't the easiest group of people to love. I got sick of leaving practice early to get to church. I got tired of feeling like I lived there sometimes. So I started talking to God a long time ago.

Dear God, I see how my dad is stretched so thin. I see the strain that it puts on my mom. I see how tired he is. I realize that emergencies happen, but couldn't they wait until after our vacation? Why do we need to get home early from dinner on Saturday night so that he can prepare his sermon? And God, if you love me at all, please, please, please don't let me marry a pastor. I think I repeated that part a few times for good measure. Amen.

Some of you are probably laughing right now. But I'm not, and I wasn't then either. I was dead serious. So much so that I immediately burst into loud sobs when two individual people spoke a prophecy over my now husband (then boyfriend), that he would be a pastor. I did not want that life for myself or my children. Don't knock me unless you've been there. A pastor is expected to be so many things for so many people! His children and wife make innumerable sacrifices. The phone doesn't stop ringing, and you can't call-screen them like telemarketers.

While I'm aware that to many, ministry is noble, it is not easy. Many sacrifices are required, and unlike traditional work, there is usually no tangible (earthly) bonus received for an extraordinary job. When we first started serving youth, we were much younger and more carefree. We had no children and few responsibilities. Fast forward 10 years , and we are like clowns juggling at the circus sometimes. Pray for me as we learn to prioritize. As we work to serve the people in our church, let us not forget to serve one another and our children FIRST. Let us always use God as our filter for priorities. Let us avoid burn-out, because this work must be done, and we want to do it to the fullest ability that God allows. We are willing. We love our God and our youth! (and their parents, too)