February 18, 2015

No Ashes For Me

I'll kick off this lent with a confession.  I did not receive my ashes this Wednesday.  The service at our church today was at 7am.  Yesterday Me was all ready to get up early and go to service but 6am Me wanted another 2 hours of sleep.  I never really fell back asleep, however, between alarms going off and John getting ready for work and then Bishop decided to get up at 7am.  He must have known church was happening without him.  Bishop doesn't like to miss his social events. 

Anyway, on a more serious note, we were given an assignment in church (on Sunday) to write a letter to someone addressing a number of questions outlined in the bulletin.  I'm going to address a few of those questions today and then finish the list throughout the rest of the week.  Today I'm going to talk about my story, my blessings and wounds, and describe what is precious to me. 

I was born into a big family, the youngest of 6 kids.  We didn't have a lot of money but we always had everything we needed.  I did well in school and went to college and got my bachelors degree.  I spent 2 years living at home during the first years of college and then transferred to a 4 year college in Illinois for the remaining years.  It was a private christian college and I think my faith developed the most while I was there.  I spent 4 summers working at Sequoia national park, the first 2 years I was doing ministry and the last 2 I just went to make some money and have adventures.  I started dating my husband in late 2010, we got married in 2012 and had our son, Bishop, in 2013.  We lived in 2 different apartments and then bought our first house last year.  John works as a drafter and I stay home and raise our son.  Our arrangement feels very 50's traditional which is ironic because our house was built in 1951 and still has the original kitchen sink with no room for a dishwasher. 

I feel like before John and I got together, one of my wounds was an emptiness in my life and a fear that I would never find a person to share my life with.  Now that emptiness feels like a blessing because I appreciate the fullness so much more.  I think if God had not allowed me to feel the loneliness, I wouldn't have understood the hugeness of this blessing.  Of course Bishop is a blessing as well.  Being a mom has opened my heart in ways I never knew were possible.  However, having my heart open this way creates a new kind of fear that I've never known.  I can't say that it's a wound because nothing bad has happened but I just fear for his life in a way that I've never feared for my own life. 

In a more general sense, I think most of the wounds in my past have revolved around me not speaking up when I need to.  I often had difficultly expressing my feelings or even knowing what I was feeling.  I felt very wounded when I would get frustrated with life or a situation and not know who to talk to or how to put my feelings into words. 

The most precious thing to me is my people.  John is my number 1 person, Bishop is (and always will be) my baby.  When I think about life and the world at large, people are the only thing that really matter. 

Well, I'm glad I stuck to the first few questions.  I feel like I've been writing forever.  Kept in mind that when I write, I spend about 75% of my time thinking.  I don't like editing; I want my sentences to be perfect the first time I write it. 

Here's a cute picture....

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