Restless, Broken
Our neighbors' house got broken into. Our dear friends from college are going to Colorado to save their marriage. Instead of a date night, Geoff and I drove for an hour trying to find parking in center city. Our nursey school had no heat yesterday. My daughter is on antibiotics for the first time in her life. I have been to yoga, to Catholic Mass, to our church even--to try and get some meditative head space. I think of Ecclesiastes, "Everything is vain, meaningless under the sun." It has been one of those weeks. My mom assures me that these trials breed a healthy and right dependence on God's good news but this is not easy. Seeing my own church as awkward and broken. Seeing the Catholic church as this controversial monolith. Even seeing yoga and poetry as these escapes for my mind.
We have been celebrating the first week of Advent. "Advent" means "to await the coming." It definitely does seem like everything around me is anticipating a change. Instead of being bitter and blameful, our neighbors stood on ladders and decked their house with fresh garlands and red velvet ribbons. I would think this would make them more of a sore target but I see their decorations and I love that audacity. They have lived here for over 10 years and always decorate, so why should a burglary stop them? And as my friends fly out tomorrow, two souls-in-progress trying to salvage 7 years of marriage, I am anxious for them. As I stood up as a bride's maid for her, I want to stand up for them now in that same way, "Hey, I get the hugeness of these promises you are making and I am standing with you to tell you I think you can do it." But as I have been married the same amount of time I see how difficult this is-- old wounds, crazy insecurities, a culture that loves to depict monogamy as parochial or narrow-minded. And the heat DID come back on at school and when I picked up my boys that afternoon, they had their rest time by the fireplace. Their teacher has read almost to Chapter 4 of Charlotte's Web, they told me , their hair mussed from lying down, their cheeks flushed with heat. And as for the little poster-child for Western medicine, hungrily drinking her pink penicillin, I hate to admit, is 100% better.
St. Augustine prayed, "I am restless until I rest in You." I know that I am restless. I am a soul-in-progress, an insomniac with a little baby girl doing dolphin flips in my tum, a mother-bear who still chokes up when saying goodbye to my boys at school, a hopeless project-starter, and a restless writer so eager to have this blog entry tie up nice and neat. I think I have to be a little okay with the wrestling. God said to Cain, "Sin is crouching at your door. Its desire is for you. You must master it." I need to fight for some mastery, I think. Some strength to stay in the game.
We have been celebrating the first week of Advent. "Advent" means "to await the coming." It definitely does seem like everything around me is anticipating a change. Instead of being bitter and blameful, our neighbors stood on ladders and decked their house with fresh garlands and red velvet ribbons. I would think this would make them more of a sore target but I see their decorations and I love that audacity. They have lived here for over 10 years and always decorate, so why should a burglary stop them? And as my friends fly out tomorrow, two souls-in-progress trying to salvage 7 years of marriage, I am anxious for them. As I stood up as a bride's maid for her, I want to stand up for them now in that same way, "Hey, I get the hugeness of these promises you are making and I am standing with you to tell you I think you can do it." But as I have been married the same amount of time I see how difficult this is-- old wounds, crazy insecurities, a culture that loves to depict monogamy as parochial or narrow-minded. And the heat DID come back on at school and when I picked up my boys that afternoon, they had their rest time by the fireplace. Their teacher has read almost to Chapter 4 of Charlotte's Web, they told me , their hair mussed from lying down, their cheeks flushed with heat. And as for the little poster-child for Western medicine, hungrily drinking her pink penicillin, I hate to admit, is 100% better.
St. Augustine prayed, "I am restless until I rest in You." I know that I am restless. I am a soul-in-progress, an insomniac with a little baby girl doing dolphin flips in my tum, a mother-bear who still chokes up when saying goodbye to my boys at school, a hopeless project-starter, and a restless writer so eager to have this blog entry tie up nice and neat. I think I have to be a little okay with the wrestling. God said to Cain, "Sin is crouching at your door. Its desire is for you. You must master it." I need to fight for some mastery, I think. Some strength to stay in the game.
posted by Maria at
6:42 PM
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