Assurance

"This moment contains all moments." 

— C.S. Lewis

It's okay if I hold him long after his eyes are closed.

Sometimes, the only sure thing in the world is this. This, and the God that gave it to me.

Holiday

 "Rest and be thankful." 

— William Wordsworth

Some days are for productivity. For business, and errands, and dashing here and there. For accomplishing much and pausing little.

But today is for rest. For soaking it in, drinking a little extra coffee, and yoga pants all day long. For celebrating the arrival of another September.
And for hearing Walter's first laugh- the most precious, enormous belly laugh that just happened in his sleep.

That was enough for today.

P.S. I'm guest blogging at To Love a Soldier this morning. I love your comments as always!

The Slowdown

Be still, and know that I am God. 

Psalm 46:10

It could be the August air that chills my face in the morning, feeling more like October than summer, or it could be an extra sip of hazelnut coffee, but I felt especially reflective this morning. It has also been a bit quieter in our house lately, because after a week on active orders here at home, Sky has been gone for AT the past two weeks (annual training in the Army Reserves for you non-military folk). It's been a whirlwind lately. There were lots of doctors appointments and more yet to come. There was Millie's birthday. Doctor's appointments on Millie's birthday. A few months ago, I decided to take this semester off from school rather than go back just yet, thinking it would be good for me to have this time with Walter and to adjust. Can I tell you how glad I am for choosing that?

Sky was away for 4 months in school. He came home, and I had a baby. A few days after we were home from the hospital, Millie had some sort of bug. A few days after that, I was in a lot of pain for two days before going to the emergency room and finding out I had a bad kidney infection. Then, we took Walter to the doctor after he'd been projectile vomiting at every feeding. Three nights later, we were in a different city in a different hospital room, preparing to see him go into surgery. After that, Sky left for training. And it's sinking in that life is going to go fast like this for a while. The house seems to always need cleaning. As soon as I do one load of laundry, there are three more dirty loads piled high. Just thinking about what I'll cook for dinner can be overwhelming, let alone roaming the grocery aisles for what I need.

I am good at shutting myself in, away from the world. It's what introverts do, and what I desperately need some days. But my thoughts seem to go in one of two ways; either I feel guilty about taking any time for myself, or I feel like I don't get any time and get frustrated by it. Being motionless in a world that is constantly moving is a battle itself. Then I look at that verse- be still. Being still? Taking time for stillness, time to just know something and let it sink into my soul? It's been a while.

So maybe it means soaking in the little sighs and snores of the sleeping baby pressed against my neck, or stopping longer to gaze into his blue eyes that look like some faraway sea. Maybe it means turning those swaying motions of soothing him into a quiet slow dance. It could be sitting with her, wearing a faded nightgown and leaning into me, pausing to read one more story instead of insisting I need to get up and clean something. Maybe it's painting my nails, even if I spend the next month wearing the same chipped polish. Or maybe, it's finally finishing the book I've been reading for months, instead of clicking pictures on Pinterest of a house I'll never have or a craft I'll never make.

But most of all, I think it means taking a moment to be absolutely still and just know. Know that life is bigger and more complicated than me, know that it moves swiftly and sometimes without rhyme or reason, but that above all, I have God to guide me through it. My soul needs that breath, that rest.

There's a slowdown that needs to happen, and I'm looking for the brakes. It's time to have time. It's time to be still.

Remembering

{Sky in an old, abandoned church we found.}

“Sometimes I need
only to stand
wherever I am 
to be blessed.” 
― Mary Oliver

While he was away, I began, slowly, to remember. Piece by shining, fragile piece, our marriage came back to me.

As much as people talk of their heart remembering, there is just as much that the heart can forget, or can lose like a wedding band on a sandy beach, never to be seen again. And I had forgotten. The way I loved when he was near, the feel of his hand grasping mine, the pride of telling the world, "I'm his." Everything was lost, and cold, and everything hurt.

The only way I've seen trust come back is through time. But I knew that those four months apart could easily be our final unraveling, because the threads were already so loose. That first night he was gone, I had so many different emotions, I could only look up at the ceiling and wonder what life would be like when he got home. Hope was thin, and faith, thinner.

Time passed, and I felt myself missing him more and more. And when he walked through the door late that night and held me against his rough uniform, everything felt different. More importantly, nearly a month later, it is still different. He has become the one I thought I was marrying, the one I couldn't wait to say vows to and be swept up in forever.

They say happiness shouldn't be placed in people, because they inevitably will let you down. I can't help but get much of my happiness from lots of people, though; my daughter, this baby, my parents, and my friends are what make this life sweet. And him. Finally, beautifully, him.

Marriage is supposed to be a journey that will take years and years of my life, and we're only three and half years down the path. Yet it has brought me to my knees many times, leaving them bloodied and bruised. How bewilderingly unexpected that it is coming back to the beginning of newlywed amazement and happiness.

This place feels so much like home now. He feels so much like home now.

Thoughts on Elmo and Life

 

We went to Sesame Street Live tonight- Millie and I, and her aunt and little cousin. It was a last minute thing, but Millie filled up those minutes before with constant chatter and excitement. We were going to see the celebrities of her two year old world.

We were on our way to see Cookie Monster and Bert and Ernie and Elmo and 'Bic Birt' and sing songs and watch the lights and eat dinner and bring the Elmo toy with us and dance and oh my goodness. And that's just about what we did.

She danced and twirled, sang and clapped, oohed and ahhed at the lighting effects, and sank into my lap for part of the show, pointing every so often at the characters on stage.We went to my aunt and uncle's custard shop down the street afterwards, braving the rain for some dessert before it was time to say goodbye.

And when we were home and Millie was snug in bed- announcing to me she would be cuddling with Monkey and Elmo this time- I curled up in my own bed and opened up my computer.

And I saw posts from friends about people I don't know. People like the man who died in a car crash, leaving behind a wife and two small kids. People like the mother waiting to get a bone marrow donor for her one year old son before it's too late. People like the woman who had a miscarriage after announcing her joy just days before.

Life was so good today. So good. But even in the midst of that goodness, I forgot exactly how good it was- how blessed I am. Because my family is healthy, and safe, and nearly all together again. Because I don't have to worry about Millie's health or this baby's. Because we're warm and sound and surrounded in grace. 

Tonight, we saw Elmo and came home to our beds. Maybe the evening we had wasn't so monumental in the grand scheme of life.

Then again, maybe it was.

Rest

"The only place the mind will ever find peace is inside the silence of the heart. 

That's where you need to go." 

— Elizabeth Gilbert

I've gotten tired lately- tired of school work and housework, packing up my shoes and his hats into boxes that are too heavy, trips to the doctor, change of address forms, overdue essays, contractions and worries, French fries for my supper, and thinking up twenty different ways to tell a little girl that I want to play, but I can't. I've gotten tired to the point of tears and then past that point, into a daze of exhaustion. It's a soul kind of tired.

Tonight, I had to stand in her room, the ceiling fan spinning lazy circles above us and the sound of an Illinois Central train whooshing by our town. I had to look at her sweet, soft face made even softer in the 9 o'clock dark. I had to listen to the ins and outs of her quiet breathing. And feel her peace and constantness assure me of all the things I don't know. Even assure me that it's okay to not know them.

She is my rest in nights like these. Sometimes it seems that she has more wisdom in her sound asleep two years than I have in my twenty eight restless ones. It feels good to learn this way.

The Quiet

For a while now, I've been saying it. "I hate Facebook." "Facebook is so dumb now." "Why am I even on here anymore?" And one day, it finally sunk in what I was saying. Why was I still on there if I claimed to loathe it so much?

I signed up back in 2008, when my brother suggested our family sign up to better communicate with him during his deployment. So I created my account, despite thinking at the time how much better Myspace was in comparison (oh, 2008 Erika, how you make me laugh!). I could only post statuses saying "Erika is ______." back then, and maybe that's part of it. But Facebook is changing, just like the whole of the internet seems to be. The pretty big silver lining to signing up then? I started chatting with my brother's roommate in Afghanistan...and as you all know, he ended up becoming my husband. Ironically enough, my brother wasn't on Facebook much longer than the deployment, and he's been off the grid for years now.

But back to the story-people have rights to opinions. I hope they have them- I know I have plenty. But one day, a family member started posting statuses that completely trashed the people in the economic situation my family is in, and it really hurt my feelings. After they wrote me a long message apologizing, I thought it was over. It wasn't. The posts continued, and someone's personal opinion began to feel very much like a personal attack. So family or not, I unfriended them. It was at that time I realized at the end of the day, I prefer keeping the peace, but the peace of my own heart should be worth something too.

There have been issues since that time, too...like the person who commented on my status every time just to disagree with me. If I had said the sky is blue, they would have countered with, "Well, no, not really." There was the one who always posted pictures that really offended me, like a painting of Jesus saying the f word. And the political things this year have been so over the top, it made me not want to vote at all. I've already voted. So at least until after this election, I decided not to be on personal Facebook page, and limit things just to you on my blog page.

And that's when it really hit me- why am I doing this to myself? I spent so much time complaining about Facebook, yet I spent so much time on it. And I realized it wasn't even so I could share things about my life- I have this blog to do that, and to post every picture I want. It's because the writer in me is afraid to miss out on everyone else's story.

What if they announce a marriage or a baby? What if they move across the world, and I didn't know? What about seeing cute pictures of their kids, or chiming in on that new outfit they posted? As silly as it sounds, I realized I just can't read everyone's stories anymore- that some story lines aren't a good, enriching part of my life, and that it benefits no one to keep reading them. If they are close family or friends, it's likely we communicate in other ways anyway, and if they aren't, then the world doesn't end if I don't know what kind of sandwich they had for lunch that day.

We're never getting 1950 back, where the only means of hearing other people's stories was actually speaking to them, or maybe listening in on a party line. And maybe that's okay for a fairly shy girl like me. The internet is amazing, but it's the biggest Pandora's box the world has ever seen. I've only been off Facebook for a week or two, and it's amazing how much good it has done me. Maybe I won't get back on after the election. Maybe I will, and limit myself to checking it once a week. Either way, I'm done making it such a focus in my life.

The point is not that Facebook is evil. It's quite literally who you know, and it's the time you invest in it, too. The point is that sometimes it's okay to not listen to the 400 'friends' I have, and to listen to the people closest to me instead- or even, sometimes, just to listen to the in and out of my own breath, away from everything else. It's so hard to get away from it all these days, but the introvert in me not only craves it, but needs it to function.

And you know what, Mark Zuckerburg? It's been pretty beautiful out here in the quiet.

The Water

(This was originally written for Erinn at It's the Journey.
She asked for a post on what inspired me, and this is what came to mind at that moment.
I've decided to share it here today.)

  

When I think about what inspires me, it only takes me a minute to go back to that place- Seattle, but more specifically, the water.

There was something so magical on the shoreline. Maybe it’s because we don’t have the same kind of vast expanse of rippling waves in the Midwest. Maybe it’s just because so many others seem to feel the same way. I think Pablo Neruda loved the sea more than any woman he sighed over, because he once wrote of it, “Here I came to the very edge where nothing at all needs saying… [and] everything is blue again like morning.” That’s just how I feel, too.

Nothing at all needs saying. Somehow, all my thoughts seem to wash away with the tide, and I find myself weightless without them. There are very few places on this enormous earth that can make me feel so beautifully alone and so perfectly content.

So some nights now, when everyone else is sleeping, my heart drifts back there. I close my eyes, and just wish for the waves to drown out all other noises and sweep through my soul.

Seasons

Every year, when the leaves begin to crunch into confetti underneath my shoes, and the nights grow slower and cool, it happens; I wake up, shivering, and crave a cup of coffee. And that's how I know.

It happened early this year. It's not quite September. The grass still has small patches of green, clinging to summer with everything it has. People still wear their shorts and flip flops, oblivious to the changing seasons. 

But here in my home, it is autumn, because coffee has been brewing most of the past week. A swirl of cream, a few spoonfuls of sugar from the ceramic jar, and I realize my favorite season have appeared.

When does autumn visit your home? I want to gather all your answers into a post, just because it would make me happy.

Ten

"Reflect upon your present blessings, of which every man has many; 

not on your past misfortunes, of which all men have some." 

— Charles Dickens

It's easy to talk about how my heart hurts. It pours out of me like a rushing river. Today, I am damming the flood. I am compelling myself to write this and using it as a sandbag:

Ten Good Things.
1. I'm alive. I'm healthy. I have use of all my senses.
2. I have more readers now than I could have ever imagined having. I am so humbled you think my words are valuable enough that you come back again and again to read them. Thanks guys. Really.
3. The sunshine yesterday was absolutely stunning. I was able to stand at a large window and watch it change from bright and glowing to dimmer and pale, until it flicked out into night.
4. I have a baby. She is healthy and happy and beautiful and sweet. A couple nights ago, I crept into her room just to watch her sleep. She stirred, open her eyes, and gave me the biggest, two-tooth grin she could possibly give. Then she closed her eyes again, and sighed herself to sleep.
5. Every day, I walk around in a warm apartment, pull food from my cabinets, and take soothing, steamy showers. Many people do not have these simple things.
6. Death Cab for Cutie came out with the first single off their new album today. The music video was a bit odd for my taste, but I heart that band and can't wait to hear to whole album.
7. Tiffany & Co. It's like what Audrey Hepburn says in Breakfast at Tiffany's: "Nothing very bad could happen to you there." I window shop online quite regularly. Currently, I'd do well to afford a Tiffany Blue mug. (P.S. Isn't it the prettiest color?) But my birthstone is sapphire, so if someone happened to get me this $61, 000 ring, I suppose I would accept it. And then trade it for a house.
8. Back to reality. I was very excited to win an Avon gift certificate from the giveaway on Julie the Army Wife. Thanks, Julie!
9. This past weekend was drill weekend. That usually means more time with my father. So he, Millie, and I trekked around town. We went to a breakfast place and I had awesome eggs Benedict (minus ham, because that's gross). We went to a home and garden show and met Frank from "American Pickers". We had delicious custard at my aunt and uncle's locally popular place. And I got to spend time laughing, talking, and debating with my dad.
10. I have a computer keyboard, a Nikon, and a blank space on the world wide web waiting for me every day.
I love filling it up.

Night

"She says nothing at all, but simply stares upward into the dark sky and watches,

with sad eyes, the slow dance of the infinite stars." 

— Neil Gaiman

Remember that morning a few days back, when I professed to you my new goal of some solitude and re-charging every day?

Yeah. That hasn't happened yet.

Tonight, I went to let out my dad's puppy (actually, mine- long story), and afterwards, just stood in the darkness, looking up at the moon. It was a full moon, the kind that illuminated the clouds pulled near it. There was so much quiet where I stood. I loved the way the perfect Illinois cornfields seemed endless with the moonlight hovering over them. I momentarily wished I could spend the night watching stars glisten into nothing. Instead, I left the largest moon in 18 years outside and drove back to my apartment.

I haven't had that morning. I've had too much night lately. There's nothing really to elaborate on except to say that, new rings aside, things aren't magically fixed in our house. No one snapped their fingers and made it all better, as much as I greedily pray for it so often. We have spent more of the last few months apart then together, and I think it's having an obvious effect. I don't think marriage is necessarily a you-never-forget-how type of thing, like riding a bike. I think you can forget how to be married, how to live together, or how to love each other the way you both should or the way you used to love. It's not like I can be angry at a deployment, either- something outside us and out of our control. It happened internally.

Anyhow, I guess I'm kind of melancholy and unsettled tonight. I want that long exhaled breath that comes with peace and comfort in my own home, with my own family. I want to know that everything will be okay tomorrow, and even more so, 5 years from now.

The moon is so beautiful tonight, but I am ready for sunshine on my face.


P.S. I read this blog post yesterday, and it's stuck with me intensely. You should read it too. You'll probably cry like I did, but that's okay. "You Are Not the Man She Married" {by Single Dad Laughing}

Peace and Quiet; Pouring My Heart Out Link-Up

My current favorite mug (a gift from my mama)

"Go placidly amid the noise and the haste, 

and remember what peace there may be in silence.

Nurture strength of spirit to shield you from misfortune. " 

— Max Ehrmann

Burnout. Not on something in particular- possibly responsibility, adulthood, even (gasp!) motherhood. Burnout ran up beside me and tackled me to the ground. After I spent a few days sick, taking care of Millie, and having Sky gone at drill, I had just reached that pivotal moment.

The moment that says "Mama needs to go shopping".

I needed an afternoon away- from everything. I needed a breath of fresh air. I needed peace and quiet. A friend came over the other night and remarked more than once on how quiet I am (shockingly quiet, apparently!). I realized that that external quietness needed to be internalized a bit. It's how I recharge, personally. I needed serenity.

I cannot remember the last time I went out alone and did something that I wanted to do. Yet, as I got away from everything and everyone, I ended up stressing about what I had planned on buying- things for Millie and Sky.

So I have decided something. From now on, after I put Millie down for her morning nap, it's my time for a little while. I had been using that time to get things accomplished, or occasionally go back to bed while I have the chance, but I have come to realize I need a break, too. Her nap time now is officially my tea time, and I'll spend some of it sipping Twinings and catching up on my daily blog reads.

That's my serenity. And making me serene helps make this whole house serene!

{I'm linking up with Shell today for "Pour Your Heart Out". Consider it poured!}