What I'm Saying No To Now

A few weeks ago, I declared a year of no.

It was necessary, and so far, it has served me well.

Sometimes, no feels like freedom.  

Sometimes, the ability to say no allows some amazing yeses into your life.

Part of no is letting go.  And so, in the interest of disclosure, there are a few things I need to tell you, a little bloggy business to get out of the way so I can clean my plate.

-- in{RL}

I love {in}courage.  Like, really really love them.  If there is anywhere in the world that I feel at home, in words and in flesh, it's there.  I love the women, I love the heart, I love that Jesus is all over that place in the ways I recognize Him best.  And I'm excited about what they're doing this year for in{RL}, the un-conference -- the conference that comes to you and opens doors and opens homes and builds relationships.  It's beautiful and the idea is necessary and wonderful and I jumped the gun and signed up to host a local gathering right out of the starting gate.  I had big visions for this, friends, big dreams related to how I would use in{RL} to connect locally, to reach out and reach in and my head got carried away and my heart got lost in the midst of it and now a scheduling conflict and… well, it's time to exercise that "no" button… time to lay it down, this time.  Will you fill me in on what a lovely time you have at in{RL} this April?

-- Definition

Once upon a time, I started this blog as a crafty place, a home décor blog to showcase DIY projects and decorating.  (What?  Who knew?)  Yeah.  Obviously, I haven't done much of this lately.  This place became something more, something different, a place to bleed my heart all over and process all these daily journeys.  It bugs me that the name of my blog is so ill-fitting, and I've fussed and toyed with the idea of splitting off, of leaving this place for home décor and the like, and starting a new place for the overflow of the heart, but this seems to be the substance of this place and I don't want to mess with what works.  A break-off might come, still.  Home décor might come, still.  For now, though, I'm just letting this wonky place be whatever it is and I hope you find bits and pieces of whatever brings you over this way.

-- Control

Or, the illusion of control of my health.  It's been a weird road the last few months with fibromyalgia and other chronic health conditions I'm struggling with.  I've been sick and sicker and spiraling downhill quickly.  Because I'm a control freak, I've tried to head this off at the pass, convincing myself that I could alter my experience with a certain exercise program, with dietary restrictions, with this or with that because it feels a lot like weakness to admit that I have to rely on prescription medication to get me through the day.  But… I'm weak.  And in the interest of strengthening my life as well as my health, I'm going to take it day by day and swallow down whatever it is that gets me through without making this my fault… acknowledging that perhaps, I don't have much control over this aspect of my life and it's time to lay it down and learn the lessons that come along with the unexpected gift of chronic illness, not the least of which is that we are not ultimately in control of these bodies, this life.

-- Spiritual Should-Do's

Do you have spiritual should-do's in your life?  Things you think you should do because as a Christian, it's what's expected of you or puts some kind of check mark on some cosmic checklist of goodness?  I do.  This is not holy, it's not biblical, and it's not necessary, but it's one of the lies I believe about the ways in which I do not measure up.  I struggle with it and sometime I'll get around to working out all of how my year in Texas fit into that and what I learned in that regard.  Coming to Oregon meant leaving full-time ministry and there's a big checklist hovering over my head lately… a guilt about where my ministry is now that I'm just a regular working mom getting through the week and not pouring every minute of my life into "the least of these".  I feel just a little spiritually less than lately, and this is only a lie that I believe.  I am coming to learn that this place is a ministry, that being here for my children is a ministry and that, while I will be asked to do other things for the sake of the Kingdom, I cannot give what I haven't received, and part of being a disciple is experiencing rest and grace and learning when you need to be filled.  So my spiritual should-do's are on hold while I learn to be filled that I can someday spill over with what I've been given, not out of duty but because I simply cannot contain it.

-- Technology

I admit, like the rest of the world, I am getting more and more attached to the technology that I am ever tethered to.  My phone at my hip while my hands are on the keyboard at work and I've got Facebook and Twitter and Blogger and Netflix and Audible all streaming information to me at the speed of light.  I have a stack of books I'm dying to read, and ones I've committed to read and review, but can't manage to find the time to read them.  I'm trading tech time for page time and hoping to reconnect with my love of books, time outside and away from the screen, and the concreteness that comes with reading books in print (and sorry, I just haven't been able to get on the Kindle/Nook/eReader bandwagon yet.  I need the touch and the smell of real books!).  

That's all I've got the energy for today, friends, but thanks for sticking with me through these brain-dead and disconnected thoughts.  

What are you saying no to, today? 

A Year of No

Source

I'm a striver.

You know, a climb-the-ladder, always reaching, trying, working, moving, going, onwards-and-upwards sort of girl.

{This is, I'm sorry to admit, mostly motivated by guilt or a feeling of not-good-enough-ness.)

It's always gotta be more.  Not to have more but to be more, to be better, nicer, prettier, sweeter, more attentive and organized and disciplined and perfect.

And in my traipses around blog-land, I see that many of you have deemed 2012 a year of yes.  A year to grow… to "feel the fear and do it anyway"… a year to take the reins and face your life headlong as you lean into the wind.  This is beautiful.  And for a minute, I nodded in agreement.  Yes, yes!  I want a year of yes!  I want to embrace my fears and get ahead.  I want to be better, be more, be everything to everyone all the time!  YES!  

And therein lies the problem.

I am yes.  All the time.  I am always embracing and accepting and reaching out to take the next rung in the ladder, convinced my efforts should be stepped up, just a little… bit… more.

And so.

I'm declaring a year of no.

A year of learning to be instead of to go.  Of sitting down and watching the fog roll in just to marvel at the beauty, just to live right where I am for awhile.  To experience my year of home for all the precious moments I usually miss.  Because it isn't turning out to be what I thought -- this home thing.  I figured I could ride the theme for all its decorating glory, an excuse to fluff and primp and hang and paint… a satisfaction for what my home could become.

Instead, I am finding the joy in mediocre.  I am finding that sometimes, just okay is enough.  And that when friends fly far and long to visit and I lament that my house isn't done, they couldn't care less because they came to see me and they see me in what I've managed to get on my walls, and they see me in the creative touches I've made around my home.  And while I thought I wanted a home whose corners were posted around the Internet, I've learned that I only want a home whose corners are piled with the makings of a life that is all and only gift, a place where we are us and life is love and the messy and the graceful and the ugly and the beautiful all blend together to resemble a life that fits.

I've lived here a month now and I only just discovered that there is a creek at the foot of our property.  It's a creek you cannot see, but only when I get silent, when I sit on the back deck and listen, I hear the waters rushing through the hills and valleys of this land.  I've discovered, by slowing down and paying attention, that there is a dirt trail on a hillside in the distance, and people ride horses up and down this road on a regular basis.  There's an osprey nest in the tallest tree and a white speckled horse that runs circles on the ranch-land below.  We have a miniature waterfall, only 6 inches high, a fairy ravine made of rocks and sticks in the side yard, and the deer sneak in our gate at night to graze.  There is so much quiet beauty here, and I wonder what else I've been too busy to miss.

Numberless still, I count with Ann, the gifts:

- A birthday surprise, friends from afar.

- Loads of familiar, long-missed laughter that feels like a different kind of home.

- My children forming bonds with people that matter to me.

- Snowmobiling on Sunday, a different kind of worship in a different kind of sanctuary.

- A confirmation of my calling as a mom and wife -- a realization that I am exactly where I should be in this big wide life.

- Time, and how it slows deliberate.

- Patterned paper, in high supply and versatility.

- Lunch with mom yesterday.

- Grace to change our minds.

- Surprise toddler kisses.

- A heart stirring, a question on my mind - our family incomplete?

- Quiet love, reaching out in the night with tangled arms and hearts.

- Water… clean and drinkable and so easily taken for granted.

- Mail delivery.

- Soft pillows; deep sleep.

- Strawberries in January -- summer sweetness in the dead of winter.