mother – Salvaged Faith

The only way for your life to be different is if you take a good hard look at it and figure out what exactly needs to change. And my life needs a good hard look right now.

In some ways, I am feeling a little snarky as I write this. I am kind of in an off mood. So this might not be the chipper Katie that you sometimes hear from.

Charged with this task:

December 1 – One Word. Encapsulate the year 2010 in one word. Explain why you’re choosing that word. Now, imagine it’s one year from today, what would you like the word to be that captures 2011 for you? (Author: Gwen Bell)

I have to admit that this has been a really strange year. If I look back on it all and try to capture it in one word – that word would have to be lonely.

I pick that word, because it captures both the way I have felt and the way I didn’t feel.

In the midst of community and people, in the midst of a marriage and a family, in the midst of lots of people and relationships – there have been so many days where I have felt incredibly alone.

Alone because who I am makes me different from other people. As a pastor, I am apart from my congregation. As a woman, I am apart from my male colleauges in ministry. As a young person, I am apart in the midst of gatherings of older folks at meetings. As a person of faith, I am apart when we gather with friends who are not. As someone who is not a mother among family members who have kids and grandkids. And sometimes as the conversation gets rolling, I feel very lonely… even in the midst of community. I long for people like me to talk with. I realize just how alone I am.

At the same time, I have tried in many ways to combat that loneliness. Our young clergy lunches have been a beacon of community and fellowship. My online connections through facebook and twitter and my writing have provided an outlet and a place to find familiar voices. I am learning to find those common places with older folks and men and parishoners and friends that I can hold on to when I start to feel lonely again.

I also have learned in some ways to be okay with the loneliness. Running was an outlet for a while – although the weather is colder and I got lazy and that stopped. Crocheting has become a powerful way to be with myself… something to keep my hands and therefore my mind busy.

I have all of this talk about being lonely and I wonder if anyone out there reading would think that I am single. I am not. I’m married to a wonderful guy – but even in marriage there is loneliness. That is not something I expected. I didn’t expect the days when our schedules didn’t match up and the house was empty. I didn’t expect the days when we were both so busy doing our own thing that we barely talked. We each have our own little corners of the house: his office and for me, well I move around between my office and the couch and whatever other warm little nook seems appealing that day. I didn’t expect that our working lives would be so compartmentalized from one another. And I didn’t expect that we would have no children.

That last one is probably my number one source of loneliness. Just the two of us doesn’t quite seem to be enough for me. I want little laughter rippling through the house. I want teasing and tickling and the grumbles of a child who doesn’t want to eat their peas. I want family gathered around our dining room table. I want stuffed animals lying around that children forgot to put away. I want to be woken up in the morning by kisses and tears. I want to tuck someone into bed at night.

This year I realized that our cats – as much as I love and adore them – cannot replace children in my life. And while Tiki and Turbo provide immense happiness and companionship, they are not mine in the same way.

Not having a family makes me very lonely.

All of that being said – what word would I want to represent the next year of my life?

I cannot make children come into my life. It may not be a reality for next year. But I do want family to take absolute priority. I want to find new ways to be family with congregation members. I want to take my own family more seriously and less for granted. I want to talk with my brothers and sisters more often. I want to spend more afternoons with my mom and dad and in-laws. I want to go on more dates with my husband. I want those relationships to be more important than anything else. I want next year to be about family.

I cannot escape pregnancy these days.

As blogger Traci Bianchi reminds us: The Christmas story is dripping with estrogen.

And not only that… but the Advent story as well. As we wait for the coming of Christ once again, we are pregnant with hope and anticipation… we hear rumors of wars and feel the earth shaking and everything in turmoil and yet we are reminded in Mark 13:8 that all of these troubles are but the birth pangs of the new creation.

Pregnant, waiting, in pain, fleshy, joyful, anxious.

In our Wednesday evening Advent services we have been using a number of materials from The Work of the People. The first two video reflections have both reminded us of just how incarnate God became. As we heard the announcement to Mary of the child in her womb… we watched a woman in delivery, having contractions. We watched her heavy breathing and her labored movements. We saw the pained look on her face as the angel’s words came through… “Do not be afraid, Mary.” “I am your servant” was her response .

http://www.youtube.com/get_player

I have seen sonogram images of friends who are newly expecting. I received with immense joy the news that I would get to be an aunt again next summer. As the holiday season has progressed I have held babies and changed diapers and comforted those who were crying.

And inside of me is stirred up a deep, deep longing. The longing to be a mother, myself.

Sometimes Advent and Christmas come and go and we don’t feel any different, but I have found this year that my experience of the season has been deep and holy this year. I have found that this longing to be a mother parallels my waiting for the coming Christ.

Maybe it brings the season into a sharper view, because I feel it so intensely. So personally. We’ve been waiting forever for the Messiah to come again and sometimes we let it slip into the background. We get busy with our day to day lives and figure it will come when it comes.

But when another longing takes hold… we are reminded of what it feels like to truly wait. To desire something so much. We are reminded that there are some things that we seek so much that it does consume our thoughts… it takes over those day to day activities. It changes how we see the world.

I see babies everywhere these days. I cannot help it. My entire perspective has shifted. I notice the glow on an expecting mothers face. I watched those images of the woman in labor and heard the words of the angel speaking to Mary and I began to tear up.

But in the midst of my very personal, very selfish, biological clock going haywire… I also have looked around with eyes that see the pain in this world. The hurt that so many experience. And my inward longing has turned outward as I want so much for this whole creation to be set right, to be restored, to be made new.

On Twitter, the hashtag #waiting2010 has helped me to share those longings. I join others in prayer as we waiting for the day when violence will end and disease will be no more. We wait for the day when understanding will be the norm and when the Prince of Peace will rule.

My husband is not yet ready for kids. He may never be. And if I am honest with myself, perhaps I’m not yet ready for the dramatic ways my life will be different when/if we bring someone into this world. The simple fact is: for us, right now, the answer to the children question is, “no.” That answer brings me great sadness.

And yet, in this season of longing and emptiness, in this season of waiting… I am turning towards those things that I can say yes to. I can say yes to hope. I can say yes to peace. I can say yes to joy. I can say yes to love. I can reach out to others with my life and my actions and give all I have to them.

Maybe God has something in store for us. Maybe being childless will help me minister in different ways. Maybe my hopes and longings will be fulfilled. All I know is that I wait. And I trust that God will be with me. I am not afraid.

Posts Tagged with mother

one word: lonely #reverb10

maternal longing…