WIWS: Adorning the Temple

After what seems like roughly 3.14159 million light years, I am back with a What I Wore Sunday post and linkup with the ladies at Fine Linen & Purple. Without further ado, here is what I wore to Mass:

Sweater: Target clearance

Scarf: Florence, Italy on our honeymoon

Skirt: Thrifted

Tights: really old

Boots: DSW

Glasses: Costco

Hair: Waved ... it's my new thing.
Porch Decor: Still Halloween, though a squirrel took a bite out of Raphael there.

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“It doesn’t make sense to call ourselves ugly, because we don’t really see ourselves. We don’t watch ourselves sleeping in bed, curled up silent with our chests rising & falling with our own rhythm. We don’t see ourselves reading a book, eyes fluttering and glowing. You don’t see yourself looking at someone with love and care in your heart. There’s no mirror in your way when you're laughing and smiling and pure happiness is leaking out of you. You would know exactly how bright and beautiful you are if you saw yourself in the moments where you are truly your authentic self.”

– Unknown (shared by Hallie on the Moxie Wife FB page)

That quote popped up on my Facebook feed this morning and made me cry. Thanks, Hallie. :)

It has been awhile since I have really taken the time to intentionally dress for Mass. Last week I got tired of just throwing on clothes and running out the door, and this week, I connected the dots of the transformation that had taken place in me since I had last participated. Oddly enough, the lightbulb went on when I was in Target and was uninterested in accessories or clothing for myself. That Target is a magical place...

While some of that disinterest is from a place of craving more simplicity, some of it really is borne out of frustration that I feel frumpy or dowdy in most anything I wear. I do not feel good about myself when I look in a mirror, and so I simply throw on something that looks okay and move on about my day. I've been so focused on the outside that I didn't stop to think about how it was connected with what was going on in my heart. 

In my last post, I talked about the chaos that seems to be ruling the day. It is unsettling for me to live in chaos, and to be so unsettled interiorly quickly leads to a downward spiral into apathy. It becomes all too overwhelming and I begin to shut down. I stop putting in effort on myself, on my home, on my dreams, and even in my prayers. It is a dangerous place, but faced with exhaustion mentally, physically, and spiritually, I go into bare minimum mode. 

It is also amazing how bringing something into the light and laying it at the foot of the cross truly begins another transformation. Things are still chaotic, but we are making progress on that front. As things in the home become more orderly, and I make more of an effort to provide the tiniest bit of structure to my prayer life even if it doesn't quite appear robust, I begin to see again how the exterior can influence the interior and vice versa. Sometimes it is precisely when I feel the worst that I need to make an effort to look my best so I can remind myself that I am the temple of a living God. God is alive in me even when I feel like death warmed over. As such, I must adorn that temple in a way that reminds me and everyone else that the Holy Spirit is alive and well...and not a frump.

Brothers and sisters: You are God’s building. According to the grace of God given to me, like a wise master builder I laid a foundation, and another is building upon it. But each one must be careful how he builds upon it, for no one can lay a foundation other than the one that is there, namely, Jesus Christ.

Do you not know that you are the temple of God, and that the Spirit of God dwells in you? If anyone destroys God’s temple, God will destroy that person; for the temple of God, which you are, is holy. 1 COR 3:9C-11, 16-17

I owe the One who gave everything for me everything I have. That includes my misery, my unrest, my sadness, and my frustration. It is in those things that I am most united with my Jesus on the cross, and it is in that unity that any suffering, real or perceived, is put into perspective. It is in those moments that I am reminded that I am a stranger in a strange land and that my true home will be in heaven. 

No, I am not healed from whatever is plaguing me at the moment. I am sick, and I am exhausted. I still feel like a bit of a misfit in my body and in my life despite the fact that I really do recognize just how blessed I am. I love my husband and my children - God gave me all I had been desiring. This isn't a plea for pity, though I will take prayer. I am, however, recommitted to offering everything to the One who is everything to me...and to making sure He remains everything to me. He is the air I breathe, He is my joy, my energy, my blessing, my hope, my direction, my dream, my consoler, my source of the love I want to feel and give. I surrender all to Him, over and over and over until it becomes second nature, which may take eternity for this little control freak of a mama!

Suscipe

St. Ignatius of Loyola

Take, Lord, and receive all my liberty,

my memory, my understanding,

and my entire will,

All I have and call my own.

You have given all to me.

To you, Lord, I return it.

Everything is yours; do with it what you will.

Give me only your love and your grace,

that is enough for me.

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FAST / PRAY / GIVE: Negative Self-Talk

I posted a link to a guide of 20 Things to Give Up for Lent written by a Lutheran pastor (Phil) on my Facebook page this week, and it seems to have struck a chord with quite a few of my friends. It is, of course, one in a large group of pre-Lenten posts about how we might best fast. I found his reflection's unique angle to be different from the rest and deeply convicting for me in my spiritual journey (not to discount the other lists in the slightest). I encourage you to read his thoughts on habits we should give up for Lent (and beyond) - things like gossip, fear, guilt, feeling of unworthiness, self-pity, worry...any of this sounding like something you need to let go of, or is it just me? Really - read it.

So convicting was his reflection combined with a new devotional I have been reading (Renee Swope's A Confident Heart), that I caught myself mid-thought the other day realizing how much I berate myself in my head. While I am the first to admit I am not perfect, that I make mistakes, in my head the conversation sounds much different. It sounds more like, "I am such an idiot," or "no wonder I'm such a failure." 

Those are not holy whispers. Those are the words of the devil. Black and white, plain and simple, they are not of God. When I say those things, what I really mean is "man, I made a mistake!" or "I have to be more careful if I want to improve," but that neither makes me an idiot or a failure. I am a daughter of God, a co-heir with Christ, fearfully and wonderfully made. Why is it so easy to forget that...or fear it? 

The same holds true with my children. I would never call my son or daughter an idiot or a failure, though they make mistakes pretty regularly. While I might secretly think those things about a stranger, I would also never verbalize them because somehow I know that is not acceptable, not even in my head and definitely not out loud. Somehow those same standards do not translate to self-talk. We are, after all, our own worst critics.

While I was having that conversation in my head, I made a resolution. I know that the whispers will return - it is how the devil tries to bury me. I know this. So, when they come, I need to look deeper. When I say to myself "I'm such an idiot," what am I really saying? Did I make a mistake? Did I not know something I should? Did I forget to do something? Those actions can be rectified and are not nearly as damaging as branding myself with negative monikers. 

If you find yourself having a similar struggle, perhaps you will join me in this challenge. Let's take these 40 days ahead to create new habits and find a new voice. FAST from negative self-talk. When the moment hits you, PRAY that God's truth about you will fill your heart, mind and spirit. GIVE yourself permission to make mistakes as someone fearfully and wonderfully made. GIVE others permission to do the same.

Here's to knocking the devil off his perch and remembering the truth of the whole of God's Word and His promises. May God's truth about who we are, who He created us to be, resound deeply in your soul, and in mine, always.

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Twenty Years Later, I'm Still Unpacking

It has taken me many a moon to develop into the cool, calm, sophisticated, got-it-together woman I am today. For those who regularly read my blog, please stop laughing. 

I know, I'm still a work in progress, but I have come a long way. While others fret gaining a few notches on the old age belt, I have to say my thirties have been the best years of my life, and I am wholeheartedly looking forward to my forties. My teens were not so kind to me. Yes, everyone has their own drama in those angst ridden years, and I certainly was not without friends or enjoyment during that time. However, as I think back to those years, I would definitely not characterize them as the "good old days." It seems The Narddog's (Andy Bernard of The Office) quote, "I wish there was a way to know you were in the good old days while you're actually in them" has gone viral, and I'm the only one who is thinking..."eh." I am really enjoying the here and now, and looking forward to the years to come. 

This year I face a possible return down memory lane with a high school reunion coming up. I must explain - I actually had my official 20 year reunion last year, which was the class I received my diploma with, but I was birthing a baby that day. (See? I loved high school so much I wanted to leave it a year earlier than scheduled!) The reunion this year is with those who I was in class with from kindergarten. These are the ladies who probably came to a sleepover before you knew who was cool and who wasn't, the gents that I played four square with...so on and so forth. There is a large part of me that really wants to go because twenty years has passed and a lot of that angst has been swept away. Facebook has helped that along as we watch each other thrive in careers, struggle through life, enjoy marriage and children...or not. It is a whole different world. 

Except that it isn't. My blood pressure rises, my heart starts to pound, and my palms start to sweat when I think about this reunion. It doesn't help that my class(es) are full of rockstars and rocket scientists. Seriously. My friend Michael works for NASA. Our valedictorian from my actual graduating class is a successful director in Hollywood. Lisa was the brains behind the popular Budweiser commercial for this year's Super Bowl. Jill is a blogger extraordinaire. The list really goes on and on, while I sit here drinking coffee and wondering what I'll make for dinner. 

That's what it comes down to isn't it? Aside from the wonderment of what I might actually talk to my former classmates about, it really comes down to what will they think of me? What has become of the nerdy gal so many liked to pick on or ignore? It's those things that fill my mind, because obviously the negative is easier to gravitate toward and assume. I remember when I first started seeing them on Facebook, I would see pictures and wonder if we went to the same school. So much of high school just didn't apply to me - and so much of it I seem to have blocked out of my memory. 

This, of course, does no credit to those who were and are still my friends. I had a wonderful group of people that helped me make it through those trying years. I still remember making egg rolls in Atheena's kitchen, debate trips with the gang, movie nights, game nights, just hanging out and doing nothing nights. It is just a different world than so many of my classmates enjoyed. And it seems like the senior year I didn't stay for cemented friendships in a way I didn't allow. So, I guess I wonder where this all leaves me as I consider returning to the scene. What did I do with my life and all the potential that laid ahead? How do I measure up, and what measure am I using? Isn't that the struggle we all face to some extent?

I have to learn to be comfortable with the fact that I probably use a drastically different measure than I was taught to use from my youth. That conditioning doesn't die easily. I'm not a superstar in a professional field, but what I do has a lot of meaning behind it. I am a wife, I am a mother, I am a daughter of God, a woman who loves Jesus and wants to share His love with the world. I get the privilege to work with women who are struggling and many who have lost hope. I work to help restore that hope and show them a vision of themselves through the eyes of faith and love. I guess that's not too shabby after twenty years.

So, will we go? Probably. Will I still have butterflies in my stomach the whole time. Oh, heck yeah! Real life reunions are a heaping handful different than hanging on Facebook, after all. At the end of the day, though, I'm not so much the Narddog as I am a little bit Pam Beesly Halpert. "There's a lot of beauty in ordinary things. Isn't that the point?" 

Most of us don't live a rock star life, but there is beauty in the every day rising and setting of the sun, in the small things we do faithfully and lovingly. I am not Michael. Or Joey (or Joseph as they call him these days). Or Jill. Or Lisa. Or anyone else who has made their way or is struggling in life. I am still just Rakhi, living in a different world than the rest because no one lives the same life as another, trying to remember that there is beauty in the ordinary life...and that the ordinary life is actually filled with a heaping handful of extraordinary moments.

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Living Life With an Eye on "What Is"

...and not "what is not," or "what I'm not." It is a daily struggle to fix our gaze on the current moment and the voice of God. The waves constantly laugh at me telling me what I am not and what is not in my life, and being more active on the old (Catholic) blogosphere just gives them more fodder to do so.

I am not a theologian.
I am not a daily Mass attendant.
I am not a homeschooler.
I am pushing 40 and do not have my own basketball team of children.
I am not a breastfeeder.
I am not a mother who makes all her own baby food.
I am not a mother who does not use processed food.
I am not a mother who only shops organic.
I am not a wife who doesn't get upset with her husband.
I am not a wife who keeps the house clean, the kids fed and has energy left over for her spouse on a daily basis.
I am not a wife who has the children tamed and dinner on the table when her husband comes home.
I am not a woman who is organized.
I am not a blogger who has taken the interwebs by storm.
I am not a joyful mother and wife all of the time.
I am not a full time working mother, but am always tired.
I am not the mom who can make macaroni art with her child, have dinner on the stove, the laundry done and folded and still have a smile on her face.
I am not...
I am not..
I am not...

The devil is in the details of comparison. I was recently having a conversation with Patty over at Tales of Me and the Husband (you should check out her blog - she's one of those joyful people I admire!) about the frustration of trying to break into a community, online in this case, but also in real life. There are always expectations based on age, marital status, faith, etc etc etc dot dot dot...and there is a lot of judgment based on what others choices have been (and then feel yours should be). We become insular, forgetting that part of our duty as married people (well, any people) is to reach out to the world as a sign of God's love. We get focused on our family, on our friends that make us feel okay about where and who we are, and forget that others are trying to make their way into this world. We forget that we don't like to be judged for our choices for our family, and while we are called to be our brothers' keepers in helping one another walk a holy walk, they are choices every family must make for themselves. We forget that we should be building each other up. We forget that our own insecurities can lead us to tear down instead of build up. It is a rough enough world out there without us raising an eyebrow at family choices that are not harmful, or not extending an inviting embrace to those who are at a different spot on the road. We get nowhere alone. So today, I vow to look at "what is" instead of "what is not" and help you to do the same. Life is rough, but heaven is worth it!

I am a woman.
I am a woman who loves the Lord and is learning to love Him more deeply.
I am a woman who had learned to live with loss.
I am a woman who is self-sufficient most of the time.
I am a woman who has gifts to share.
I am a woman who feels deeply.
I am a woman who falls daily, but keeps getting up even when I don't feel like it.
I am a woman who is searching for better ways to advocate for the least of these.
I am a woman who is trying to love and serve the Lord and bring His love to the rest of the world.
I am a wife who loves her husband.
I am a wife who appreciates that her husband loves her with the same unconditional love as Christ.
I am a wife who tries to have dinner started or at least planned most days.
I am a wife who prays with and for her husband.
I am a wife who tries to encourage and support her husband in his passions.
I am a wife who tries desperately not to nag.
I am a wife who is learning how to love her husband better.
I am a mother.
I am a mother who dances with her children.
I am a mother who sings her children to sleep.
I am a mother who snuggles her babies and slathers them with kisses.
I am a mother whose heart breaks when her babies are suffering.
I am a mother who puts food on the table.
I am a mother who enjoys the sound of her children's laughter.
I am a mother who endures the sound of her children's whining and crying despite the urge to run out the door.
I am a mother who prays with and for her children.
I am a mother who is committed to teaching her children that God loves them.
I am a mother who is committed to teaching her children to be kind, to love well and see the dignity in everyone they meet.
I am a daughter of God.
I am a daughter who is growing in patience with her mother.
I am a daughter who misses being someone's little girl, but live it out being a mother who loves on her little girl.
I am intelligent.
I am funny (even I am the only one who thinks so).
I am loving.
Whether I see it or not, I am beautiful, blemishes, extra pounds and all, if only because God created me, and He does not create ugly things. 

You are beautiful. You are loved. You are.