Category: Faith + Spirituality

The Ability To Bend Without Breaking

July 26th, 2010 · Vina Barham · Faith + Spirituality, Happiness + Growth, Nourishing Moms No comments - Tags: ,

 

By ItyDesigns

(I am over at Passionate Homemaking Today! Head on over.) 

When I was working as a recruiter for an international mission agency, one of things we emphasize in our training is the ability to go with the flow. To accept the unfamiliar for what it is, to let go of things beyond our control and to accept, no, to embrace the sometimes messy and often chaotic situations that one will inevitably find herself in.

Some call it tolerance. I call it, flexibility: the awesome ability to bend back and forth without breaking. Click here to continue.

Confessions: Making Room For What Is Dying To Be Born (Or My Real Reason For Slowing Down and Unplugging)

June 23rd, 2010 · Vina Barham · Authenticity + Vocation, Faith + Spirituality, Nourishing Moms 4 comments - Tags: ,

 

Photo By TeeJayBee

 
I was looking for a photo of yet another person with a mask on, to go along with this blog post. Have you noticed my preoccupation with masks? I finally have, thank goodness. And it’s sort of related to why I’ve been attracted to slowing down considerably and have decided to unplug (sorta) from the Matrix the next couple of months.

I’m ready to unmask. Or even better:

I’m ready to be reborn.

For the past six months, I’ve been writing about the stuff I think would make for a nourishing home. I’ve focused on learning how to be a more nourishing cook, how to be a more nourishing mother and a wife, and of course a more nourishing citizen of this world. I’ve busted my chops on trying to be all of these things and frankly, I am quite exhausted. From anxiety that I ought to be learning how to make my own sourdough starter and yogurt, that I ought to be using toxin-free everything in my life, that I ought to be always examining my spending choices in light of other people’s well-being, that I ought to be always downsizing, decluttering and simplifying my life even more, that I ought to do all these crafty and structured educational stuff with my child, or that I ought to be a more playful, more peaceful, more mindful, more attached parent, more of whatever else, that I ought to _________________________ (fill in the blank.)

The more people subscribe to this blog, the more I feel is at stake. The more worried I am about who is reading what, the further away I go from who I truly am, or at least who I truly want to be. And that is SO not nourishing.

The truth is, I’ve been feeling a growing kind of suffocation from being a stay-at-home mom and living a more domestic life. I’ve been struggling with this truth, unable to admit to it because it sounds like admitting I am a terrible mom. And so I project onto this blog what my ideal image is of a “good mother” to compensate for how “bad of a mother” I feel in real life. Hence, the growing disconnect.

:: Pause ::

Yes, I still believe in simplicity, in eating real foods, in living more sustainably, in parenting authentically. But I no longer am passionate about calling people to those things. For now. Because I’m learning that in the end, all of these things don’t matter much if they don’t come from the Core of who you are. And I’m feeling quite lost at the moment.

A Nourishing Home Starts With A Nourishing Me
Last week, I wrote about learning to love myself, and frankly, it is only the beginning of this new journey that absolutely terrifies me. Lots of my old paradigm of how the world works and much of my life constructs are about to be blown into miniscule pieces of nothingness as I keep putting one foot in front of the other in this narrow path I find myself on. My ideas of happiness, of wholeness, of abundance and emptiness, of complicated simplicity, of who I should be and who I truly am deep inside, of my readiness to suspend my system of belief and question everything I’ve held True since I was young, to finally put myself first instead of last, to admit to drowning in the everyday domesticity no matter how hard I try….to admit to every one of these things feel like I make my blog (and my life) to be nothing but one big giant lie.

And so I step back. And make room for something in my life that is on its way to die. So there could be room for something else to be born. I don’t know exactly what, but I know it will be beautiful.

So stay with me as I slow down and unplug. I only want my blog to be as True as I am, but to do that, I really need to start being True to me first.

If only I could hole up like all caterpillars do
and emerge out like a butterfly.
But I could, and I will.
Only, I can’t completely disappear.
Real life is still here.
With loved ones near. And the dishes waiting.
So I keep breathing.
Hopeful for some restoring
And a lot of peeling
of the old me
trying to gasp for air
Fighting to live
But I’m done fighting
I’m surrendering
To the magic of becoming
Transcending
The Lies and The Shoulds
The Petty Platitudes
Until there is nothing left
But
Me.

Learning To Love Yourself: Why Self-Love Is So Darn Hard

June 14th, 2010 · Vina Barham · Authenticity + Vocation, Faith + Spirituality, Happiness + Growth, Nourishing Moms 7 comments - Tags: ,

Photo By Krystn Palmer

I suspect I might have some readers who might be put off by my title and I had to think long and hard about this post. I almost feel like I’m risking losing about half of my subscribers if not more. (Maybe I’m just paranoid!) But I trust in your graciousness and open minds as I work through this one. Since this blog is primarily about two things: (1) simplicity, or embracing the essentials and doing away with the rest, and (2) authenticity, or embracing the Truth of who you are, I am hoping that you’ll give me the benefit of the doubt that self-love falls within these two categories. And that my ability to nourish my family well is in intimate proportion to my ability to love myself. For I can only truly and generously love others to the extent that I love me.

The Struggle To Love Me
I’ve been writing a lot recently about authenticity, and doing a lot of soul searching as to what this means for my life. My pastor today spoke on supernatural forgiveness, and he shared a quote by C.S. Lewis that stayed with me longer than I wanted it to:

I think that if God forgives us we must forgive ourselves. Otherwise it is almost like setting up ourselves as a higher tribunal than Him.

There is nothing in me that rebels against that statement. I know it to be absolutely true, and I’m not sure that I have a big issue with forgiveness. What I undeniably and painfully struggle with is loving myself. Even saying that chokes me up and makes me feel really uncomfortable. What? Love myself? That sounds so narcissistic, so un-Godly, so selfish. I grew up repressing my God-given needs and desires and was taught that I ought to put people before myself always. Constantly deferring to other people’s wishes and never having a voice of my own. Becoming extremely adept at listening to other people all the while never asserting my need to be listened to. As a result, I grew up into an adult tragically disconnected from what truly makes me come Alive. Even the decision of what I want to eat for dinner was potentially paralyzing. I was THAT clueless of who I am.

But lately, I’ve been coming to grips with how ridiculously self-righteous this is.

The Self-Righteousness of Not Loving Yourself
Back to C.S. Lewis quote, changed up a bit:

I think that if God loves us we must love ourselves. Otherwise it is almost like setting up ourselves as a higher tribunal than Him

If the Great I am, who has an exceptional record of Perfection, thinks I’m worthy of Love, how I can deem myself unworthy of it? By refusing to love myself, I’m essentially saying that the standards I have to meet to be worthy of Love is much much higher than God’s. And if my standards are higher than Perfection himself, what does that make me? Way Better Than Perfect? See how ridiculous self-righteous it is?

My theory is that when we grow up only accepted and affirmed when we do right and behave right, rightness becomes our obsession. Because truth be told, we want nothing else but to be accepted and embraced and celebrated and valued. We want nothing else but to be loved. And so when the feeling of being loved hinges on meeting certain standards and conditions, we will do everything in our power to keep meeting those standards and conditions. To Hell With Everything. We are created for Love and we will fight to the end to get that. Even if it’s just an illusion of the Genuine Thing.

Moving From Self-Righteousness to Self-Love
The second greatest commandment that Jesus taught in the Sacred Texts is to Love Your Neighbor as You Love Yourself. We also have the Golden Rule which goes,” Treat Others As You Would Like To Be Treated.” If you love yourself crap, how can you love above that? If you treat yourself crap, how can you treat others beyond that? Loving others become a way to get love back, which never works. We can sure fake our way into loving others better than we love ourselves and deny the growing disconnect by distracting ourselves with food, TV and all sorts of addictions, or do it with sheer will power while stuffing our feelings in, only to one day blow up and tell everyone in your life to piss off. I did the latter about several years ago. I can 100% say that this is not the route you want to go.

So how do we move from self-righteousness to self-love? I quote one of my favorite authors, Brennan Manning. He is deeply authentic and his raw honesty often strip me uncomfortably naked, with nowhere to go to but the Truth.

If I am not in touch with my own belovedness, then I cannot touch the sacredness of others. If I am estranged from myself, I am likewise a stranger to others.”

To know that we are deeply Loved infinitely, unconditionally, eternally. To base our worth in our identity as Beloved whatever our past, however our present and wherever our future. Great. I’m sold. But how?

Paying Attention To The Evidence
For so long, I thought this meant simply to tell myself that God loves me, and that he has proven this by sending Jesus to the cross and dying for me. I get that. And I believe that it is true. Sometime in college, this healed me and liberated me to momentarily let go of my self-righteousness and trust in my Belovedness that I boldly went on a crazy adventure in China. But this journey called Life is never linear and progressively perfect. Instead it is unpredictable and messy. And for each new season in our lives, we might need a new way to see our Belovedness, a new kind of evidence that speaks to us in our now to tell us strongly and boldly that yes, we are Beloved.

We just have to pay attention.

These days, I find the Fierce Love of God outside the walls of church, outside the faith community that I had looked to for support all these years, and outside the traditions of the faith I’ve grown up in. I’m finding this Belovedness in being completely and utterly human: in birthing and mothering the child my husband and I bore out of Love, in moments of deep intimate connections with my husband, in turning flour into bread and an assortment of stuff into sustenance on the table, in rediscovering the delight of drawing with my fingers on the sand or watching ants on the sidewalk an infinite number of times with wonder and amazement as my child does, in the beauty of Others who are pursuing authentic Joy in radical ways, in seeing seeds push their way out of the ground into a hunkering giant of a vine, in letting my body move freely and mindfully to music. I’m finding my Belovedness in being mindful of what gives me joy and delight, what energizes me and makes me come alive. When I pay attention to these cues that tell me how wonderfully and mindfully unique this world was created, when I make space to honor these cues that tell me how wonderfully and mindfully unique I was created, then I feel a little bit closer to loving myself authentically, a bit more closer to the way God loves us all: truthfully aware, yet fully accepting.

Moving From Self-Righteousness to Self-Love is about letting go of judgments of ourselves and our need to prove ourselves worthy. It’s about unfolding, accepting, embracing, yielding to A Force Bigger Than Us, melting into A Love That Won’t Let Go. A Love that is grounded in knowing who we truly are, the good and the bad, the mundane and the important, and in trusting that all of that is Embraced wholly. And when we are able to love ourselves in this way, we are truly free to love others without fear or conditions.

The great paradox is this: Loving Ourselves becomes a Selfless Act.

Will you join me in this journey of learning to love ourselves radically so we can love each other wholly? I hope to meet more of you who are in a similar journey. Please share! And I leave you all with this quote from one of my favorite books, The Sacred Romance:

“Whatever form each of our own intimate adventures has taken in our fantasies, or in “real life,” this Sacred Romance is set within all our hearts and will not go away. It is the core of our spiritual journey. Any religion that ignores it survives only as a guilt induced legalism, a set of propositions to be memorized and rules to be obeyed.

Someone or something has romances us from the beginning with creek-side singers and pastel sunsets, with the austere majesty of snow capped mountains and the poignant flames of autumn colors telling us of something – or someone – leaving with a promise to return. These things can, in an unguarded moment, bring us to our knees with longing for this something or someone who is lost; someone or something only our hearts recognizes.

Nourishing Justice Wednesdays: Identifying With Refugees Part 2

April 14th, 2010 · Vina Barham · Everyday Justice, Faith + Spirituality No comments - Tags:

Photo by Hdptcar

Last Monday evening , I attended an informational meeting at the Lutheran Community Services for potential foster families of refugee and immigrant children. My husband and I are considering becoming foster parents for unaccompanied refugee children awaiting entry to the U.S. I was scheduled to attend last month, but my little girl was sick and had to cancel. Coincidentally, the next available meeting falls on the week I am wrapping up my post on refugees. Throughout the meeting, I felt uneasy and totally out of my league. Could we really do this? Am I making this up? What am I doing here?

That same Monday, I took my daughter to the beach in the afternoon. We bumped into a mom with twin girls around my child’s age. I found out they were adopted from the foster care system. We chatted some more about her experience, and she has six total. My mind was swirling and heart was beating unusually fast. I didn’t tell her about the event I was to go to that evening.

Synchronicity. Divine Coincidence. Serendipity. God’s Will. Whatever suits you. But stuff like that is hard for me to ignore. Obviously, there is something about refugees and their life that seize my heart and compel me to act, move and share with others.

Why I Care About Refugees Or Redefining What Nourishing Justice Is About

After writing last week’s Nourishing Justice post, I realized that I focused on trying to convince everyone else to care about refugees, and had failed to communicate why I care. Because let’s face it, we will all care about different things, and for good reason. There’s simply so much injustice in the world that to collectively care only about one thing is in itself unjust. We all have something we are passionate about, and for as long as it is something that involves caring about the dignity and lives of our neighbors, of strangers within our greater human family, of those the world tend to ignore, mistreat, forget, that’s nourishing justice for me. And my “cause” doesn’t have to be yours. Or vice versa. Better yet, we shouldn’t have a “cause” because people get lost in a “cause.” It’s not about a cause. It never is.

The bottom line is that, we have to see ourselves in them. The Others. We are them. When they hurt, we hurt. When they meet injustice, we meet injustice. Our lives are linked to their lives. Our happiness is woven in theirs. We are all in this together. This is what it means to love our neighbor as ourselves. We are our neighbors.

Small Little Things That We Can Do

Because Statistics Don’t Tell The Story
Statistics are worthless, really. Stories are way better. Perhaps you’ve seen this documentary, but if not, I’ll leave you with a snippet of “God Grew Tired Of Us” about the Lost Boys from Sudan. It’s worth watching:

P.S. I’m rethinking how I’m going to do Nourishing Justice Wednesdays…I realized doing a four week series on “issues” isn’t really the best way to do it. So stay tuned. Ideas? Email me.

Nourishing Justice Wednesdays: Identifying With Refugees

April 7th, 2010 · Vina Barham · Everyday Justice, Faith + Spirituality One comment - Tags: ,

 

Photo By Wen Yan King

 

As promised, we’re kicking off Nourishing Justice Wednesdays. I’m looking forward to what you all think. And oh, what about the blog design? Are you liking it? 

 Imagine having to flee your home all of a sudden, without knowing if you will ever get to come back. Imagine not having time to even pack your belongings. Imagine having to be separated from your husband and children without warning to find refuge for yourself. Imagine having to find a safe place to hide. Imagine having to live in crowded temporary warehouses and depending on strangers for food, shelter and protection. Imagine not knowing where your family is or whether they made it somewhere alive. Imagine finding yourself in a foreign place to begin your life anew.

Imagine yourself a refugee.

Who Is A Refugee ? 
The official definition of a refugee comes from the 1951 Geneva Convention, relating to the Status of Refugees, commonly known as the “Refugee Convention”

A refugee is a person who, owing to a well-founded fear of being persecuted for reasons of race, religion, nationality, membership of a particular social group, or political opinion, is outside the country of his nationality, and is unable to or, owing to such fear, is unwilling to avail himself of the protection of that country…

There are about 34.5 million around the world uprooted from their homes. Each person has a story, a face, a name. Many flee their own countries and find themselves living in a temporary camp in another land, not quite hostile but not quite hospitable either. For some, these temporary places of refuge become a long-term place to live. Most of them desire to return home when conditions are favorable once again, but only a few ever do do. Only less than 1% resettle in another country, like the U.S to begin a new chapter in their lives away from everything they had known.

Why Should We Care? 
Oh, there are so many reasons. Because for many of us who follow Jesus, he asks us to do so. Because it’s simply part of what it means to belong to God’s family. Because this is true hospitality, to care for and protect the most vulnerable. But today, I want to focus on a reason that unites even more of us: simply because we are mothers.

Because mothers know that the home is the most important place on earth.
Home is safety, protection, care, warmth, sustenance. And to be a refugee is to be homeless of greater proportions.  Often, refugees are subject to discrimination, attacks and gender based violence. In 64 countries, our homeless and stateless brothers and sisters do not have access to judicial systems that can protect them. 

Because mothers care about the small people of the world.  
About half of refugees in the world are children. Children, who are at risk of being recruited by armed groups and forced to become child soldiers or workers. In 132 refugee camps, 31% of children 6 to 11 are not enrolled in school. Can you imagine your child learning how to hold guns and kill people when they should be learning how to read?

Because mothers care about basic nourishment of people.
More than 50% of refugee camps do not meet the minimum water standard of 20 litres per person per day. Many have high levels of malnutrition and inadequate sanitation. Mortality rates are extremely high in 27 countries. 

Because mothers care about the rights of women and the essential livelihood needed for families to thrive.
In 23 countries, the displaced not only lack the work opportunities they need to earn a living (women, especially) but they are denied the right, by law, to use their skills to earn a living. With the loss of a job comes the loss of dignity and the ever dependence on others to survive.

What We Can Do 
In the following three Wednesdays of this month, we’ll be delving into the different ways we can advocate for, give to and serve the homeless, stateless men, women and children, from our home. For those of you who believe in prayer, join me in remembering the refugees this month of April.

Embracing the Empty Spaces: A Revolution of Emptiness

April 5th, 2010 · Vina Barham · Faith + Spirituality 4 comments - Tags:

 

Photo By Galos

 

In our culture, to confess that you see a glass half-empty is not necessarily a good thing. We live in a world of positive thinking and unceasing optimism. We’re all awesome. We’re all about the fullness of life. We all can win. By golly we can do it.

And so it’s no wonder that we are ambivalent, if not afraid of the empty spaces in our lives.

Defining Empty
According to Merriam Webster, it means

  • containing nothing; not occupied or inhabited; unfrequented; not pregnant ; null 
  • lacking reality, substance, meaning, or value : hollow; destitute of effect or force;  devoid of sense : foolish
  • hungry
  • idle; having no purpose or result; useless
  • marked by the absence of human life, activity, or comfort

Most often, we associate emptiness with boredom, social alienation and apathy. Clearly, in our vocabulary, emptiness is not something we strive after. Who wants to be lacking in substance? Or useless? 

Empty Redefined
When we see an empty retail space for lease, we immediately assume that a former business had gone bust. An empty house these days often mean a foreclosure. Empty pockets belong to the homeless. Empty people go to therapy. Empty calendars are for the social misfits and introverts of the world. Empty, according to our culture, is for losers.

But what if an empty retail space means one less business that doesn’t truly offer anything valuable? An empty house as a means of downsizing? Empty pockets as living on less? Empty people as hungry for transformation? Empty calendars as slowing life down? What if empty is for people who are quietly revolutionizing our way of Life towards what is truly Good?

Redeeming Empty
Yesterday, about 2.1 billion people celebrated the person who has best redeemed Empty for us all. By being Empty himself and consequently leaving us an Empty tomb. The Ultimate Revolution of The Empty.

Many of us are confused with what exactly Jesus wants us to do with our lives. We asks questions about what best career to choose, how best to use our money, who to marry. Important questions, yes, but maybe they are not the essential questions He had in mind. I shouldn’t really speak for Him, so I’ll let Him speak for Himself. He says, 

 Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted. Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth. Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be satisfied.

The poor, the mourners, the meek, the hungry all have one thing in common: they are all empty. Empty of esteem, empty of joy, empty of pride, empty of justice. And Jesus calls them, blessed.

Embracing The Empty Spaces 
Embracing the Empty Spaces in our lives requires boldness and faith. We often try to occupy our houses, our time, our minds, our hearts with one thing after another so long as they keep us distracted, entertained, perhaps happy. An empty corner in the living room seems to call for one more thing to buy, empty slot in our schedule another activity to pass the time. Henri Nouwen once said,

Empty space tends to create fear. As long as our minds, hearts, minds and hands are occupied we can avoid confronting the painful questions to which we never gave much attention and which we do not want to surface.

What do the empty spaces mean to us? What does it mean when I have my nights free of any commitments to serve, to give, to do? What does it signify to have a house barely furnished, with just the necessities? What does it say about those who have a nearly empty closet, to only possess a handful of clothes to be worn often and again? What does it mean to have a name without any professional initials at the end, with nothing spectacular to show for?

What do you think about empty spaces? Do you feel the same way? Do you agree or disagree? Leave your thoughts! Next week, we’ll dive more into the idea of emptiness and what it looks like to live a empty-handed life. If you liked this article, please pass the word! If you haven’t yet, do subscribe so you won’t miss a post! Thank you!

The Other Side of Glory: One Dark Day

April 2nd, 2010 · Vina Barham · Faith + Spirituality 2 comments - Tags: ,

Photo by Kaptain Kabold

I wrote this last year and thought it was appropriate to share again this year. I always get in a somber mood around this time without much effort, because it’s close to my birthday. A gift in disguise.

Turning 32

I’m turning 32 this Sunday. Easter. Wow. I think I’m supposed to reflect on this. Because it’s sort of meaningful to have my birthday fall on the day we celebrate the empty tomb (for Christians). But it seems ironic because an empty tomb is the farthest picture of how I feel these days. It feels more like a casket, enclosed six-feet-under. Ok, not entirely. Maybe more of like snorkeling for hours and hours without a place to rest your weary body and what started to be so wonderfully adventurous is getting a bit tiring. Or maybe more like enjoying a ferris wheel ride for the very first time when without warning it jerks to a sudden stop and then you find yourself stuck for hours and hours not knowing what to do with yourself and for a brief second you considered jumping off.

A Good Life On The Surface

Lest you think my life is so bad, it actually isn’t, on the surface. I have a very loving and thoughtful husband who has a great and meaningful job that allows me to stay at home with my beautiful baby girl. We live in one of the best cities in the US and have access to many fun things. I have good health and I am able to do a lot of stuff I enjoy. I’ve had opportunities to give a little bit back to the world with the few talents I have. I am surrounded by supportive family and friends and a faith community.

And Yet;

And yet, life still feels somewhat hollow in the midst of all of that. Sometimes I think it’s my own personality to blame. I am too intense, too serious, too much of an idealist for my own good. Someone who is prone to burn out, giving 110 percent to what I value and love and thus forgetting simple things like brushing my teeth. Or eating. And becoming a mother has somehow made it much worse.

But maybe it’s okay to feel somewhat hollow. Maybe feeling hollow is like a hidden clue, a gracious divine give-away that tells me it’s because there is something broken in this world. And in that brokenness, we are haunted by what could be, what’s meant to be.

In our culture, our quest is for beauty, perfection, pain-free life. We want to rid the world of poverty, malaria, communism, terrorism, pollution, evil of all sorts. And we will prevail, dang it. And so when we come to face to face with our own vulnerabilities in life, when the heartaches of deferred hope finally catches up with us, when our democratic efforts are not so successful as we project them to be, we wonder if we just need to medicate ourselves into a blissful stupor, or maybe try a bit harder, because that IS the point, right? To make right in this world of wrong? To feel good about ourselves, our lives?

But maybe, just maybe there is good reason why we can’t go snorkeling forever or ride a ferris wheel all of our lives or rescue all the hungry children in the world.

We Are Broken

Because it isn’t just the world that is broken. We ARE broken. We are the source of the very problems we are trying to get rid of. We are the source of joy for some, but pain/annoyance/confusion/suffering for others. We’d like to think not, but we are.

As I turn 32, my problems are pretty much the same as when I was eight years old, feeling so self-conscious and worried about people liking me, about making my mark in this world. The world is still a problem. I AM still the problem.

But I forget, I so forget, that before the empty tomb…was the occupied cross. Pierced nails. Thorns on the head. Broken bones. Blood. Death.

Death needs to happen before new Life can begin.

And so today being Good Friday, I embrace Death. Yes, I embrace the hollowness, the despair, the depravity, the brokenness, the tears, the heartaches, the pain. All of it. Not because these things are good, but because there is GOOD, and that is God.

I Want To Be, Especially Ordinary

March 31st, 2010 · Vina Barham · Authenticity + Vocation, Faith + Spirituality One comment - Tags: ,

 

Photo By Zoriah

 

We live in a world of special.
A world where everyone wants to be extraordinary.

We don’t even want better but the best.
Oh this crazy quest for happiness.
A cyclical madness.

Once we think we have it,
we find
there is more to be had.
More of being better,
more of being extraordinary.
more of being especially happy.

Until we realize,
we weren’t specially anything
after all.

So we finally unravel.
So we finally let go.
Of expectations,
Of ambitions,
Of all kinds of quiet desperation

Until
We simply become
Who we are.

Nothing special.

Quite ordinary.
Painfully.
Sometimes ugly.

And yet, quite enough.
Accepted.
Alive.

And in that, is the miracle,
The special, we all long to find.

Exulting in Monotony

March 15th, 2010 · Vina Barham · Faith + Spirituality 3 comments - Tags:

Photo by Pink Sherbet

The word homemaking is almost synonymous to death by boredom. At least to me my first few months of becoming a stay-at-home mom. As much as I loved having the freedom to focus on caring for my daughter, it was pretty jarring for me, a self-proclaimed domestically challenged wife.

I didn’t know what to do with myself and I was always itching to be somewhere else, anywhere else with my baby. Just not home. I couldn’t imagine what homemaking meant. I wondered, what in the world did stay at home moms do with all their time besides twiddle their thumbs and check their Facebook? Coz that’s what I did.

I tried to find some encouragement back in those days and what helped me get through was this nice little quote by G.K. Chesteron from his book, Orthodoxy:

Because children have abounding vitality…they want things repeated and unchanged. They always say, ‘Do it again’ and the grown-up person does it again until he is nearly dead. For grown-up people are not strong enough to exult in monotony. But perhaps God is strong enough to exult in monotony. It is possible that God says every morning, ‘Do it again’ to the sun and every evening ‘Do it again’ to the moon. It may not be automatic necessity that makes all daisies alike. It may be that God makes every daisy separately, but has never gotten tired of making them.’

Isn’t that beautiful? It captures exactly how I feel. I don’t feel strong enough to exult in monotony. I dread the weekly task of washing clothes, get weary of having to wield my knife and chopping boards and pots and ladles to make food everyday, and the list goes on.

But oh how my little one excels in this! We read the same books and she never tires of them. We sing the same songs, and she asks for more. We visit the same pond with the same ducks, play at the same beach with the same sand, go down the same slide and walk around the same neighborhood. Occasionally, we would do something different, but oh how she revels in monotony!

Monotony As A Gift
We live in a culture where we live for the latest and newest whatever. We love everything quick and convenient. We have so much to do that we must multi-task. No wonder that it’s a challenge for us to find beauty and joy in our monotonous tasks. We have to be watching TV and folding laundry at the same time. It feels like wasting time just folding laundry by itself. Or just deathly boresome.

But what if these monotonous tasks are a gift? An opportunity to make space for meaning, for slowing down, for seeing differently? What if to fold laundry by itself (without watching T.V) becomes an act of faith that our time is not measured by the tasks we get to cross off our list, but by the meaning we put into our tasks? What if scrubbing bathroom tubs and sinks was a way to keep us humble, to remind us of our own filth that needs scrubbing away as well?

Making Our Home A Canvas For Art
Isn’t helpful to imagine God delighting in creating yet another daisy, in creating yet another sunshine, and yet another star day after day after day? And that because God exults in the monotonous affairs of nature, we get to experience the beauty and the order and the rhythms of all that He does day in and out?

And so let’s make our home the canvas for our art and look for every opportunity to create yet another daisy in our daily lives, whether it’s in preparing dinner or tidying up the house. Find those moments when we can add to the loveliness of whatever is in front of us. Washing dishes? Do it the old-fashioned way (sans dishwasher) and sing as you go. Doing laundry? Fold each clothing with love and say a prayer for the person as you do.

Becoming Like A Child
I know I keep saying it over and over, but it is worth repeating, especially to myself. As much as I am to teach my children, I am also here to learn from them. And one of their best gifts to us is to reclaim the wonder of childhood back into our adult lives. They help us slow down enough to marvel in the things we often consider trivial and mundane. The things we miss out on because we are too busy, too important, too distracted.

The other day, on our way to the beach, my daughter and I saw a squirrel climb up a tree. We were so excited as we watched the squirrel climb higher and higher until we noticed a nest a few branches above where the squirrel was. I honestly think this was the first time I’ve ever seen a nest (if not, in a really long time) and I just stood there and marveled at all the unseen movements of Life around me that I don’t pay attention to. But when I look at the world through the eyes of my daughter who is seeing the world with such freshness, I am born a little bit all over again and the monotony becomes as exciting as it gets.

Let Monotony Rock Your World
I feel pretty alone in saying that monotony rocks. But I’m discovering a whole new world where it does. Perhaps I’m just pretty desperate to find meaning in what I do everyday. It’s possible that I am making this whole thing up. But maybe (hopefully, please God) I have not gone insane yet and there are some of you who are kinda figuring this out too. That there is awesomeness to be discovered in monotony. If so, I’d love to hear from yah. Let me know how monotony is rocking your world. And maybe if there was enough of us, we can get a revolution started. Starting with folding laundry.

Inspired Mothering Mondays: What If God Was A Mother?

March 8th, 2010 · Vina Barham · Faith + Spirituality 6 comments - Tags:

 

Photo By Patrick Q

 

Then, She’d be the most awesome mother I know. Let me explain.

The Fierce Love of a Mother
I never knew this kind of love before I became a mother. I mean, never. It feels like it’s coming from a different part of me, distinct from the love I have for my husband. Not better, not worse, just….different. That part of me that is so inclined to sacrifice time, sleep and boundaries for my daughter’s sake. That part of me that is so inclined to lose myself in mothering her, to give of myself forever and ever to her. That part of me that aches like death when she is sick and in pain, like she is today.

Some people are quick to say, oh no, you are guilty of idolatry, you are letting your children rule your world. Well, that’s one perspective. But what if, just what if, God, the original, ultimate Mother of all, feels this way for us, Her children? What if, the Creator who is neither male nor female, is graciously giving us a glimpse of Her heart for us all through motherhood? That if I, limited and oh so imperfect can be a source of Love not bound by conditions or covenants, how much more God?

The Nurturing Love of A Mother
Before I become a mom, I hardly knew the difference between butter and margarine. Nor did I care. Motherhood changed that. Now I am passionate about learning everything I possibly can to nurture my family – body, heart, soul, mind. This desire to nurture took over me full force. Suddenly, the domestic life took a whole new meaning for me. It became a place of vocation, of service, of opportunity, of grand ambitions, of revolutions of sorts. Homemaking is a calling I am proud to pursue with every bits and pieces of me.

And just as we find God in the fierceness of our love for our children, we also discover God in this domestically inclined love for them. God, being the first homemaker of all, put the stars and sun in place and every beautiful thing we can conceive of. God, who cares about our bodies, gave us every imaginable source of food that is truly good for us. 

Maybe Motherhood Isn’t So Much About Us

Last week, I wrote about letting motherhood redefine us here. But maybe just as important to let it redefine us, is to let it redirect us. That our role as mothers is a means to find our way back Home, back to the Mother that is God, the One who fiercely loves us without end, and who forever nurtures us in every way.

What do you think? How do  feel about approaching motherhood or God this way? Does this sound irrelevant, or irreverent to you? Or am I on to something here? I’d love to hear from you!

This post is part of Steady Mom’s 30 Minute Challenge.

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