These Moments

Today as I was driving home…writing in my head… ☺ I began to think about my life five years ago. The friends I had. The moments we shared. More importantly, all the laughter that became of those moments.

These days when I see friends there are no new memories. We laugh about old times. We act that we are too close to just have small talk but that is where life is at. Recently I have felt an enormous loss. I disconnect from a life and friendships I once had that have now become fragmented memories in a diary.

I am at a different place.

I don’t enjoy it. There are nights Zac tells me to get out of the house…go see friends… do something! But I can’t. I am completely paralyzed.

Who would I see? Who do I ever see?


I miss my friends.

My life has become work, school, housework, family. Nothing else. I am not at a place in my life where I have any kind of energy to invest in new or even budding friendships. That makes me sad. I have never had a ton of girlfriends. I have always been the girl with just a handful of friends but no more. I am terrible at surface friendships… I always long for intimacy even in a friendship.

I feel at times that I have traded in laughable, silly, flirtatious nights for sweat pants and laundry. Trying to find any kind of delight or excitement in those two is impossible.

I have realized at times that I have juxtaposed these two lives as being completely opposite of one another. I still struggle with the idea of actually enjoying family life. I love my life as a wife and mother but at times I feel like you can’t be silly or have fun if you are those things.

Life is so freaking serious now.

Car problems, school money, textbooks, bills, rent, grocery shopping and solemn behavior seems to rule most of my life.

I’m trying to figure out if this is an attitude that must be changed or inherently just my personality.

I play, I laugh and I wrestle with someone who can’t have an adult conversation back with me. Zac and I see each other exhausted and if either of us has extra time…we just spend it with one another.

Is it just me or does this seem incredibly out of whack??!!

It has nothing to do with not loving the poeople in my life and everything to do with not understanding why everyone things that life like this is ok?

I always look at Zac and tell him that our time will come in fifteen years… maybe.

But how skewed is that?

I suppose it has been a rough week and I suppose that I may be a bit on the emotional side, however; I feel dissatisfied.

I miss friendships. I miss my life being about me at times. I stare at myself in the mirror sometimes and wonder when I will feel like life is truly enjoyable and not just “nice”.

I am grateful for my life and people who love me. Truly.

Tonight has just been a lonely night.

I miss my friends. I miss a blank agenda. I miss adventures. I miss alone time. I miss staying out late. I miss laughing.

It’s just not that season of my life anymore.

Thank you Lord for blessing me. Please remind me of all that you have blessed me with… how quickly I can forget.

You always listen.

Amen

Writing

Writing has always been MY thing. When I did not have anything else to run to, anyone else to talk to I would always have my writing. My writing these days consists more along the topics of “Please do a close reading of how Malcom X was feeling in prison…” or “How does postmodern text A compare/contrast to postmodern text B.”

Bleh.

These days I write in my head as I am driving. When the cool breeze rushes through the drive side window. I put my arm out the window and turn down the music. There is something so mystical about a car drive when it is the dark of the morning. No headlights for miles. Just me, and the open road.



I reflect.

On everything.

For a few minutes as I write intently in my head the chaos of the world slips away. Writing helps me believe. It helps me see light in a situation that is sterile black. It creates a series of events that are scattered yet fluid as they come to me.

My greatest writing I have never written. I can not articulate on paper. It is those moments as I hear the hum of the engine that I feel alive. Rejuvenated. Encouraged.

I sense that peace is coming and someday I will indeed write again.

But for now, I just take a drive.

Enough?

Last week I sat through a fantastically trashy movie… Sex and the City 2… I was excited for the fashion, fun, girls and a silly plot that my mind could tune out to. However a scene in particular left me deep in thought as a left the theatre.

I guess something struck a chord with me sitting through Carrie, Miranda, Samantha and Charlotte’s silly antics.

There was a scene when Miranda (I swear I’m not spoiling anything) and Charlotte are on vacation and have a couple drinks together. Miranda asks if she can confess something. She had just quit her job and had been full time at home with her son who was roughly eight years old. She confessed…

I love my son and I care for him deeply… but it’s not enough.

Wow Miranda… took the words right out of my mouth. I pondered this for awhile. I felt the same way. I always remember growing up the disdain I had toward babysitting and was never asked. Tati was the go-to girl. ☺ I never enjoyed volunteering at the church nursery like the other girls did. I didn’t like kids. Not in a mean way… I just didn’t. As an eleven year old I would rather sit with the adults than play outside.

As a mother now I still battle the mom title. I believe every woman is capable of being a nurturing mother but some women defiantly are more at ease with motherhood.

I am not.

I suppose this may sound selfish and I truly don’t mean it to. If my only role was mother I would be disappointed in myself. I am not minimizing the women who do it because gee whiz is it a job! But for me, it’s not enough. I know people are the most important things in life... especially family. I recognize accomplishments are fleeting and family is forever. Hence... my struggle.

I don’t want lots of kids. I don’t desire to be a soccer mom. I never want to own a mini-van. I try to reason with Cohen like he is an adult for goodness sake.

I love Cohen and care for him deeply… but it is not enough. And that at times sounds so sour coming out of my mouth.

Some of that needs to be refined in me but truthfully a lot of that feeling stems from who I am.

I don’t want a big family life and recently I have had to come to terms with where I am at as a woman/wife/mom/friend/coworker… It is difficult to walk these things out. Especially when I admire so many mothers that sacrifice everything for their children. Their hopes, dreams, schooling and passions. I just... don't get that.

I applaud the women who choose to make motherhood their life and passion. Motherhood is not for the faint hearted.

I just never would. And I'm coming to terms with that.

This So Called American Dream

I sat with my mentor recently and we talked about what it means to fully give our lives away. As a young 20 something with a child, a rent payment and school almost under my belt I have a lot of decisions to make. Most importantly for me though... the choices I make will/can impact and influence Cohen's life....forever. WOAH that is heavy. I think at every point in our lives as parents we have one of those anxiety attack moments where all one can think is "OMG WHAT AM I DOING?!?!?!?" Maybe not that intense...but you get the picture. I have had to make lots of choices recently that will impact the kind of life Cohen will ha ve potentially. I have one part of my heart screaming out "Why haven't you bought a house yet? Why don't you have a career lined up? What is your plan on making money?" and the other part of my heart whispers... How will you lay down your life? How will you be an example to Cohen? This isn't fluffy light stuff here folks. My mentor told me: Mackenzie, you and I are not meant to live this American dream. Running a rat race toward money that matters not, a comfortable life that makes your child spoiled, and an empty heart that craves....more. I almost had a heart at tack. I wanted the American Dream. I wanted to do more school, make more money, drive a Lexus, travel the world, eat all organic food.... all the time. Scrounging my way to the top and working my butt off to accomplish something that isn't real is ultimately...ridiculous. Now don't get me wrong... working hard is important. But truthfully I have been surrounded most of my life with individuals who strive for the next tree branch up... violently thrusting to the top. It is ugly to watch. It has no place in the Lord's heart. I heard the Lord speak some practical ways I must strive to change: 1. My thought pattern: Instead of thinking "I am going to school so I can have a degree to make more money" think "I am leaving a legacy of hard work and persistence even when the odds were against me." 2. My possessive heart: My car, wallet, kitchen items, bed, furniture... is not mine. They do not equal who I am and they never will. I don't want a mini-van, frequent flyer miles, company dinners, a furnished home, an ipad, a house in D20 and more than 2 children... and that's ok. The Lord will meet me there!! 3. My mother's heart: Cohen is not mine. AHHHHHHH! Cohen is the Lord's. My role and responsibility is to love and cherish him. To be an example of a woman who loves her God and a woman who loves the man he is... no matter what. I am to pray and release him to t he Lord... Oh Hannah...how did you let your boy Samuel go... The Lord knows. 4. My comfortable patterns: Zac, Cohen and I will serve when it seems unlikely. We will give more and receive less knowing that true goodness and kindness are fruits that are everlasting. 5. My expectations of what my life what suppose to look like: Send me, spend me Lord... just tell me where to go. Give me patience for the hard times and remind me that money does not buy eternity. Now that I am 20 something poor and no real plan... I have never had more faith. It's exactly where you wanted me to be. Thank you Lord for reminding me daily that my life is not mine... I got this from an excerpt from a lesson plan I was reading about: What is the American Dream? The term was first used by James Truslow Adams in his book The Epic of America which was written in 1931. He states: "The American Dream is "that dream of a land in which life should be better and richer and fuller for everyone, with opportunity for each according to ability or achievement. It is a difficult dream for the European upper classes to interpret adequately, and too many of us ourselves have grown weary and mistrustful of it. It is not a dream of motor cars and high wages merely, but a dream of social order in which each man and each woman shall be able to attain to the fullest stature of which they are innately capable, and be recognized by others for what they are, regardless of the fortuitous circumstances of birth or position." In the United States’ Declaration of Independence, our founding fathers: "…held certain truths to be self-evident, that all Men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness." Might this sentiment be considered the foundation of the American Dream? Were homesteaders who left the big cities of the east to find happiness and their piece of land in the unknown wilderness pursuing these inalienable Rights? Were the immigrants who came to the United States looking for their bit of life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness, their Dream? And what did the desire of the veteran of World War II - to settle down, to have ahome, a car and a family - tell us about this evolving Dream? Is the American Dream attainable by all Americans? Would Martin Luther King feel his Dream was attained? Did Malcolm X realize his Dream? Some say, that the American Dream has become the pursuit of material prosperity - that people work more hours to get bigger cars, fancier homes, the fruits of prosperity for their families - but have less time to enjoy their prosperity. Others say that the American Dream is beyond the grasp of the working poor who must work two jobs to insure their family’s survival. Yet others look toward a new American Dream with less focus on financial gain and more emphasis on living a simple, fulfilling life. Thomas Wolfe said, "…to every man, regardless of his birth, his shining, golden opportunity ….the right to live, to work, to be himself, and to become whatever thing his manhood and his vision can combine to make him." Is this your American Dream? Matthew 6 25"Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more important than food, and the body more important than clothes? 26Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? 27Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his lifeb]" style="line-height: 0.5em; ">[b]? 28"And why do you worry about clothes? See how the lilies of the field grow. They do not labor or spin. 29Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. 30If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, will he not much more clothe you, O you of little faith? 31So do not worry, saying, 'What shall we eat?' or 'What shall we drink?' or 'What shall we wear?' 32For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. 33But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. 34Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.

What is the hardest part about being a mom and a student for you?

For me the hardest part is the overwhelming guilt of feeling like I am missing something.

I know... I know... it is a temporary hardship for a long term benefit. Often times though I feel that I have to pick homework and studying over Zac and Cocobear...

Growing up education had always been a focal point in our household and there was never a doubt in my mind that I would receive at the very least a bachelors degree. When I got pregnant with Cohen it seemed that my one dream of getting a great education, living in the city somewhere and making lots of money evaporated in thin air. They sound so trivial when I think about it now but honestly I had to grieve the death of the "elite."

I am almost done. I have one more year (the HARDEST year) and truthfully I don't feel focused at all. I will have a degree in English but have no idea what I'll do with it. Frankly, I would love my masters in some sort of counseling but that is years from now.

I have to stay focused.... HAVE TO STAY FOCUSED!

The best part of my classes is stumbling on the pages of my textbooks that have coloring all over them from Cohen digging into my school bag and scribbling all over them. Cohen is as much apart of my schooling as I am. He reminds me that I am not doing this just for myself anymore... it is a commitment to my family.

So yes there are days where I don't see Cohen wake up or see Cohen go to sleep but I know that I am working toward a goal I will be grateful to share with him at one point.

Sewing seeds now for a big reward later.

I want him to know that education is very important but most of all that my commitment to him is the most important.

I suppose I should stop writing and finish a final paper...

To all my working, playing, studying and cleaning moms... have faith and be encouraged. Days feel at times... monotonous and endless. Remember the Lord sees our faithfulness and dedication.

8th Street Wal-Mart

I met Jesus today. More than once.

I had an hour or so to kill so I decided to pick up items for school tomorrow. Paper, pencils, notebooks… you name it. Being close to my new downtown home I ventured into the 8th street Wal-Mart.
It was insanely busy.

As I walked toward the doors to enter in about twelve Wal-Mart employees were sitting on the ground in a circle. Each of them looked homely, sad, dirty but ultimately…forgotten. I stared into these faces for awhile as I made my way inside. I excused myself as I ran into a little boy, about Cohen’s age who had snot on his lips and a single mom yelled at him to stay closer to her.

Oh Lord, I just wanted to get some office supplies.

I ignored the long lines and hoped by the time I wanted to leave there would be an open lane so I wouldn’t have to wait. I was impatient. Why is everybody out today? It’s not like this at the Monument Wal-Mart where I have gone for years!

Oh Lord, you are teaching me a lesson.

I felt stares in the back of my head as I decided either the yellow or blue folder. An elderly woman was looking at the tape and stopped to stare at me awhile.

I kept thinking…I agree lady, what the heck am I doing at THIS Wal-Mart?

She had oversized glasses on and smelled like a nursing home. She was overweight and walked with a limp …. I watched her as I decided on the yellow folder. She had no help with her. No one holding her hand as she limped along in the aisle or anyone to carry her oxygen tank.

What if this was your grandma Mackenzie?

Ah yes, and then you speak Lord.

As she walked away I asked her if there was anything I could help her find or anything she needed help with.

She stared at me and had to think about her words… I can’t reach the masking tape, could you grab it for me? I was going to find a clerk … she mumbled and then half smiled at me with no teeth.

I’ll be happy to grab that for you. I handed her the masking tape and gave her a big smile. She told me that her husband had just passed away and that she needed to pack many of his items. It truthfully broke my heart. She began to limp away… I told her to have a blessed day. She walked back to me and she shook my hand.

Ok Lord… I’m listening.

I gathered all my items and headed to the checkout line. The only one without a huge line was a mother with two kids. I knew it was where I needed to be. I stood behind her quietly. Her children were in one cart and she had an entire grocery cart full in the other. Her little boy looked to be about five and her little girl maybe one. He scanned item after item and she counted her money… all in ones. She was dropping coupons, money, keys… you name it. I believe I bent over three times to help her pick up something. She was frazzled, out of it and kept eyeing the world around her as if she knew she was being judged.

No wedding ring. Stripper boots. Skinny as a rail. She was so lost and so broken. It reeked from the inside out.

The total came to almost a hundred dollars… she counted out her huge stack of ones and fives, she was three dollars short. She rolled her eyes and told the man to put back the milk…

I already knew what I needed to do.

I told her, I’ll spot you, no worries. She looked at me suspiciously and told me that she didn’t need pity and that she just forgot the rest of her cash at home.

Ok God, Not exactly my ideal outcome in this situation.

She looked at me dead in the eyes and said …If you knew what it was like to be a single mom you would understand that I don’t need your charity because you feel bad for me. Forget about it, it’s fine!

I was shocked, hurt and then proceeded to say that at one point I WAS a single mom and that I understand the pain of judgment and others trying to take pity on me. I told her that all I wanted to do is pay for her milk for her kids. That’s it.

She paused for awhile…then nodded her head.

I handed the cashier, whose face had turned bright red, a five. She nodded her head again as he handed her the receipt and I told her that God sees her. She nodded and left. Just like that.

I paid for my items and left the store that was full of neglected elderly, single mothers, poor families and distraught hearts. I prayed for her…and her kids. That she would see Jesus in what had happened… not religion…church…pity…chari

ty….whatever.

I got in my car…This was no Monument Wal-Mart. This is real life. This is real pain.

The Lord spoke to me on my drive home...

Mackenzie I bless you to bless others... I love you to love others... those words played over and over in my head...still do.

I often wonder if we cared about our neighbors like we do for those in Haiti how much we could change the face of America?

What about the lives of the widows and orphans at the 8th street Wal Mart.

A lot to think about and be grateful for.

Lord give me the strength to obey your heart’s desire…everytime.

James 1:27
Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world.

Isaiah 1:17
Learn to do right! Seek justice, encourage the oppressed. Defend the cause of the fatherless, plead the case of the widow.

Hebrews 13:2
Do not forget to entertain strangers, for by so doing some people have entertained angels without knowing it.

Well-Behaved Women Seldom Make History.... Right?

I was talking to a girlfriend recently and she mentioned to me that she was frustrated that she had done all the right things, made the right choices, said no to all those "bad things" yet for some reason things weren't really working out for her. No job lined up, no amazing man pounding at her door... just a whole lot of... nothing.

At the time I felt bad. Really bad. I imagined that it WOULD be difficult for someone to stay faithful when their faithfulness seems in vain. Seems that is.

Faithful is defined as:

1.

strict or thorough in the performance of duty: a faithful worker.

2.

true to one's word, promises, vows, etc.

3.

steady in allegiance or affection; loyal; constant: faithful friends.

She is all of these things. She has stayed true to her faith, her friends, her morality, her commitment to work and ultimately lives day to day being completely faithful. I pondered this... I began to think that faithfulness as it is described here is just an adjective. Faithful is also a noun....

A noun meaning:

the faithful:

a.

the believers, esp. members of a Christian church

b.

the body of loyal members of any party or group.

My friend is the noun faithful. She is part of a body of loyal members to a group. But not just any group. The body of Christ. It takes the loneliness out of just "being faithful." How often do we go through the motions of being faithful but forget we are THE faithful. It's not just a lifestyle... it is a commitment to excellence. It is realizing not what we are but who we were. Our faithfulness is the small choices reflects the condition of our heart.

Every walk of faith requires of us a sacrifice...or should I say...sacrifices. Often times there are no immediate rewards and sometimes faithfulness can seem...so... boring? I think of my friend and the life she will offer a man someday and what she will tell her children. That is payday... maybe not now when things seem so bleak but the Lord rewards the faithful.

I tell you the truth, anyone who has faith in me will do what I have been doing. He will do even greater things than these, because I am going to the Father. And I will do whatever you ask in my name, so that the Son may bring glory to the Father.
John 14:12,13

Mother Teresa once said "I do not pray for success but rather for faithfulness."

HE is faithful... we need to be faithful... His plans are greater and more vast than our eyes can comprehend.