Good morning. While so exhausted last night that my eyes were burning, and while so run down I couldn't imagine my body waking up automatically at 3:30am again... it did. And while I have no idea how this will affect my attention span and functioning later today, being up early really was very productive for me.
On that note, a small departure from the intention of this post: I used to be able to burn the candle at both ends - get up early, stay up late. And as I've gone through this process of figuring out how to hone in and capitalize on my most productive parts of the day, and recognizing that I'm just not good at being up early and going to bed late, I've wondered where I've ended up. Some days I can stay up until 1am... but its the getting up again at 4am that's been hard. Now, I'm up at 3:30am but going to bed at 9:30pm. It seems I should just pick one end of the day and stick with it. I would say morning productivity has been much better than late night so I'll keep with it for a while and see if it sticks.
Anyways, I finished (99%) of sections B-D of my outline for Michigan. Tomorrow I need to tackle E-H of my outline and this is EXCITING because this is the meat of the hypothesis to my dissertation research. I'm comparing reports, responses, policies, etc. All the nerdy crap that I actually like.
Finally, one intention of this post (I've decided) is to every day list something I will do once finished. As a result I will have a list of 75 things to do when I'm done - with no real time frame on when to do them, but it will help me remember my bucket list. There is also no real order to this either. I forgot to include this yesterday so I've got two listed today:
1. Learn Spanish with Samara and Mackenzie (refresh and revamp my own knowledge while they learn)
2. Read a novel without feeling guilty
Friday, August 2, 2013
Thursday, August 1, 2013
Day 1: The terms of our relationship
Good evening.
I have thought a lot about what exactly it is I expect from you. It is highly unlikely that anyone reading this will give two hoots about the equitable distribution of highly qualified teachers in Michigan, Ohio, Georgia and Alabama. I doubt folks will care how the U.S. Department of Education responded under President W. Bush or how the same government agency has responded under President Obama.
Further, I have other outlets for holding myself accountable to the actual completion of tasks so why create just another venue?
Instead, I think I'm going to make this my emotional outlet. I mean, the other grad students who are a part of my accountability group sympathize and relate to my emotional ups and downs, but we are a group to get things done, not to bitch and moan about the process. I promise my emotions will be worth the read - and if not, I'll make up something ;-)
So, Day 1: I am so incredibly tired. As the dawn of a new job crept up, so did my internal alarm clock. Folks, 3:30am. Which may not be SO bad except I went to bed at 12:30am. And I am so tired. I cannot - literally cannot - read the writing on the paper.
I can tell you this - if not but for this challenge I'd either be watching a movie with Tim or I would have gone to bed an hour ago. Instead I persisted and got about an hour's worth of work done. It isn't the 3 I wanted or NEED but there is nothing I can do. I've lost my place in my reading too many times to count.
In the end, I am going to bed. But I do plan on waking up bright and early for some work completion. I have only a little bit of time tomorrow too so we'll see.
Until then, peace.
“The difference between try and triumph is a little umph. ”
I have thought a lot about what exactly it is I expect from you. It is highly unlikely that anyone reading this will give two hoots about the equitable distribution of highly qualified teachers in Michigan, Ohio, Georgia and Alabama. I doubt folks will care how the U.S. Department of Education responded under President W. Bush or how the same government agency has responded under President Obama.
Further, I have other outlets for holding myself accountable to the actual completion of tasks so why create just another venue?
Instead, I think I'm going to make this my emotional outlet. I mean, the other grad students who are a part of my accountability group sympathize and relate to my emotional ups and downs, but we are a group to get things done, not to bitch and moan about the process. I promise my emotions will be worth the read - and if not, I'll make up something ;-)
So, Day 1: I am so incredibly tired. As the dawn of a new job crept up, so did my internal alarm clock. Folks, 3:30am. Which may not be SO bad except I went to bed at 12:30am. And I am so tired. I cannot - literally cannot - read the writing on the paper.
I can tell you this - if not but for this challenge I'd either be watching a movie with Tim or I would have gone to bed an hour ago. Instead I persisted and got about an hour's worth of work done. It isn't the 3 I wanted or NEED but there is nothing I can do. I've lost my place in my reading too many times to count.
In the end, I am going to bed. But I do plan on waking up bright and early for some work completion. I have only a little bit of time tomorrow too so we'll see.
Until then, peace.
“The difference between try and triumph is a little umph. ”
Wednesday, July 31, 2013
The 75-Day Challenge
So, here goes. I'm going to really put myself out here. I'm
challenging myself to a “75 Day Challenge.” The truth is, I
toyed with finding a fresh name for this, but realized it is but
another way to procrastinate – and avoiding such behavior is the
essence of this challenge.
Remember Julie and Julia? The movie about a young woman who decides to go through the cookbook of Julia Child – one recipe a day – blogging about it each day? I will parallel this effort. Nope, not a cooking challenge (Lord, help us) Eh, no, not a workout challenge. No...no not a new meal plan challenge. I challenge myself to blog every day, for the next 75 days, on the progress of my dissertation.
All I ask is for you (those of you who are interested) to hold me accountable – maybe don't even read the blog if you don't want to, but expect it so that if you don't see the link on FB/Twitter, ask me why!
Why 75 days? Because my (self-imposed) deadline is up then – October 15, 2013, 11pm. [And I'm so tempted to add some disclaimer about how nothing actually happens if I don't meet this deadline, but I do risk missing semester deadlines and will have to pay for another semester of tuition. And guess what? I've paid for 18 semesters of tuition since law school; some of those semesters I paid for both law school and graduate school. tuition So really. It's just insane to keep this going.] I could explain time missed with family and the time I need to focus on, and commit myself, to my new job but that is pretty obvious... *Not to mention I would love to submit a new dance choreography piece in the Spring 2014 Open Marley Night*
Why do you care? Well, you may not. BUT if I finish in 75 days I will be able to attend functions, see my children, help out around the house... You know, live life a little.
Why now? I start a new job tomorrow. I'm on the track to completion of this dissertation, but I am scared (petrified) I will get lost in the tasks of this job only to find myself still writing my dissertation a year from now. [Not to mention in the realm of OCD world, August 1 is a nice starting date].
Why will this work? I keep my word. I am relying on the premise that I do not like to fail, and if I define “failure” as making a promise and not following through with it, well, then... this should work. PLUS, I hate to say it folks, but my gym routine will go on hold until it is done. I will teach, take walks with the dogs & children, but I cannot make this a priority at this point.
Why a blog? A few reasons. I usually have a lot to say and a mere status update on FB/Twitter, etc. won't work. I have a blog that I set up a while ago on which I hardly write, so let's use it. AND I promise to post “funnies” about Samara, and I'm sure Mackenzie soon. Maybe not in every post, but enough of the time, I think. Plus this blog is “The Portioned Plate.” My life balancing act. This is the ultimate call to action.
Anyways, as I mentioned, this scares me – this asking others to hold me accountable. This... this putting myself out there. And frankly 75 days seems like a shot in the dark to me, in terms of actually finishing. So I commit myself to a very intense 2 ½ months.
Okay all. Time for sleep so I can be on task tomorrow. Peace.
The soul of a lazy man desires, and has nothing; But the soul of the diligent shall be made rich. ~Proverbs 13:4
Remember Julie and Julia? The movie about a young woman who decides to go through the cookbook of Julia Child – one recipe a day – blogging about it each day? I will parallel this effort. Nope, not a cooking challenge (Lord, help us) Eh, no, not a workout challenge. No...no not a new meal plan challenge. I challenge myself to blog every day, for the next 75 days, on the progress of my dissertation.
All I ask is for you (those of you who are interested) to hold me accountable – maybe don't even read the blog if you don't want to, but expect it so that if you don't see the link on FB/Twitter, ask me why!
Why 75 days? Because my (self-imposed) deadline is up then – October 15, 2013, 11pm. [And I'm so tempted to add some disclaimer about how nothing actually happens if I don't meet this deadline, but I do risk missing semester deadlines and will have to pay for another semester of tuition. And guess what? I've paid for 18 semesters of tuition since law school; some of those semesters I paid for both law school and graduate school. tuition So really. It's just insane to keep this going.] I could explain time missed with family and the time I need to focus on, and commit myself, to my new job but that is pretty obvious... *Not to mention I would love to submit a new dance choreography piece in the Spring 2014 Open Marley Night*
Why do you care? Well, you may not. BUT if I finish in 75 days I will be able to attend functions, see my children, help out around the house... You know, live life a little.
Why now? I start a new job tomorrow. I'm on the track to completion of this dissertation, but I am scared (petrified) I will get lost in the tasks of this job only to find myself still writing my dissertation a year from now. [Not to mention in the realm of OCD world, August 1 is a nice starting date].
Why will this work? I keep my word. I am relying on the premise that I do not like to fail, and if I define “failure” as making a promise and not following through with it, well, then... this should work. PLUS, I hate to say it folks, but my gym routine will go on hold until it is done. I will teach, take walks with the dogs & children, but I cannot make this a priority at this point.
Why a blog? A few reasons. I usually have a lot to say and a mere status update on FB/Twitter, etc. won't work. I have a blog that I set up a while ago on which I hardly write, so let's use it. AND I promise to post “funnies” about Samara, and I'm sure Mackenzie soon. Maybe not in every post, but enough of the time, I think. Plus this blog is “The Portioned Plate.” My life balancing act. This is the ultimate call to action.
Anyways, as I mentioned, this scares me – this asking others to hold me accountable. This... this putting myself out there. And frankly 75 days seems like a shot in the dark to me, in terms of actually finishing. So I commit myself to a very intense 2 ½ months.
Okay all. Time for sleep so I can be on task tomorrow. Peace.
The soul of a lazy man desires, and has nothing; But the soul of the diligent shall be made rich. ~Proverbs 13:4
Friday, July 26, 2013
A Love Letter
My Z,
I don't know where to begin, so I'll start from "the beginning." About this time, 3:30am, July 26, 2012 I couldn't sleep. This was nothing unusual: I was almost 40 weeks pregnant and [you] the baby inside had claimed most of my sleep for his/her own. And when you're a mother who works outside the house full time who finds herself "black-clouded" with a dissertation, you research in such times, so that's what I did. I worked on my evaluation of Arkansas's state plans for the equitable distribution of highly qualified teachers. (For the record, I sincerely hope that this is a complete project by the time you are able to read this.)
My pregnancy with you was just as wonderful as with Samara, except so very different. It is just the same with how you two sisters are in life - wonderful, but so very different. As your due date, July 30, loomed closer and closer I got rather stressed, which was odd because as I said, my pregnancy with you was wonderful. I knew things would be different with you - for how could things be exactly the same - but Samara had been born 13 days prior to her due date and the world of "experts" (i.e. FB friends and everyone I encountered) told me the second baby would arrive sooner than the first. And so I'd had my share of "false hopes" - thinking labor had started but learning I was wrong.
This morning one year ago, 4am, as I sat contemplating the federal response to Arkansas's state equity plan, the contractions started again once more. But this time, I kept working - I tracked the contractions, but kept working. At about 5:15am it was apparent that a pattern was emerging so I called the doctor. It was a funny time because your dad was getting ready to go to work and we didn't know whether he should make the 50 minute drive to Baltimore. I got off of the phone, having received the advice to just wait and see, and told your dad I had no clue what he should do. So, in typical "Daltons of York" style, we stuck with our routine. Dad went to work.
Sufficed to say, about an hour after he left, I was calling him to tell him to return. I had waited about as long as I could for him (at least another hour for him to drive) and was about to leave without him in fear I'd have you in the house or on the way, when he finally did return home only to tell me he hadn't packed anything for the hospital. So I waited. Your dad decided to drive through the city during York City's version of "rush hour" which isn't much, but it is slower than the highway. On the way, he generously offered the right of way to about every driver who needed it. So I waited. We arrived at the hospital and completely forgot where to park - so in typical "Daltons of York" style we took a guess and were wrong. We had to have a security guard walk us to the maternity ward, while all along the contractions were getting pretty heavy. We check in and the doctor checks to see if I am far enough along - aaaaaand at about 8 centimeters dilated, we all decided that I was having a baby that day - July 26, 2012.
From there, the story could get longer, but here's the short version: While both you and your sister took the exact same about of time from the beginning of labor to birth (8 hours) a MAJOR difference between my delivery of you and of her was that yours was wonderful. I have a few theories as to why that is but they are irrelevant. For the record, I rejoiced at your sister's birth, don't get me wrong, but if I'm going to experience extraordinary amounts of pain, I'd rather know what to expect. And as the first, that just wasn't possible for my delivery of her. But with you, I... I...
Well anyways, short version: you are born on the 3rd push after I was in the hospital for only 3 hours. I had to have a small surgery so couldn't eat until afterwards which wasn't until 9 hours after I'd delivered you. Your grandparents and father and sister did eat... right in front of me which was "awesome." The Olympics started the day after you were born so your father and I had that playing on the TV for most of the time. Your father met you and loved you right away. And your sister met you and loved you right away. Your grandparents and aunts met you and loved you right away. I finally put a face to the wonderful being in my belly and the love I'd had for 40 weeks grew exponentially.
When you read this, I have no idea what the state of technology will be. Today, the common form of capturing a moment is via digital picture and video. We have plenty of pictures of you, but I'm working so hard to imprint your image in my mind that I wanted to describe your presence: You have a color of hair that teeters between reddish and blondish... I guess strawberry blonde, but I don't know. Your amount of hair is just right - not too much but enough that I can give you a little girly style - at the moment a Pebbles pony tail on the top of your head. Your lips are so perfect and your cheeks could be holding a little nut in each one. You have nice little ears, I suppose, but it's hardly a feature I can describe well. Of course you have the little baby nose. You are very long in stature... You have long fingers, long toes, long legs and long arms. You are long. Your knees have callouses on them because you still prefer crawling to walking, although I think you'll put crawling aside very soon. You are kissed by many mosquitoes and the bites well up. So far, you only have two little bottom teeth that pop out when you smile - which is a lot. Your two favorite modes of body-expressions (besides smiling) are pointing and clapping. And how could one forget your eyes. The big, round blueberries staring at people as they engage with you. You often give a "deer in headlights" expression (so if I'm doing justice to my written-picture I should paint that image with words) although that trait is fading and big smiles usually appear on your face when people speak to you.
You are my Z. You are my bookend. You have taken what was an open end to our family, closed it in, tied it up, and completed it. You are you. You are God's little angel. You are mine, your dad's, your sister's. We are yours. God is yours. God loves you. We love you. I love you. Take care, Sweet Z, all the days of your life and know that you are loved by many. Happy First Birthday!
Love always,
Mom
I don't know where to begin, so I'll start from "the beginning." About this time, 3:30am, July 26, 2012 I couldn't sleep. This was nothing unusual: I was almost 40 weeks pregnant and [you] the baby inside had claimed most of my sleep for his/her own. And when you're a mother who works outside the house full time who finds herself "black-clouded" with a dissertation, you research in such times, so that's what I did. I worked on my evaluation of Arkansas's state plans for the equitable distribution of highly qualified teachers. (For the record, I sincerely hope that this is a complete project by the time you are able to read this.)
My pregnancy with you was just as wonderful as with Samara, except so very different. It is just the same with how you two sisters are in life - wonderful, but so very different. As your due date, July 30, loomed closer and closer I got rather stressed, which was odd because as I said, my pregnancy with you was wonderful. I knew things would be different with you - for how could things be exactly the same - but Samara had been born 13 days prior to her due date and the world of "experts" (i.e. FB friends and everyone I encountered) told me the second baby would arrive sooner than the first. And so I'd had my share of "false hopes" - thinking labor had started but learning I was wrong.
This morning one year ago, 4am, as I sat contemplating the federal response to Arkansas's state equity plan, the contractions started again once more. But this time, I kept working - I tracked the contractions, but kept working. At about 5:15am it was apparent that a pattern was emerging so I called the doctor. It was a funny time because your dad was getting ready to go to work and we didn't know whether he should make the 50 minute drive to Baltimore. I got off of the phone, having received the advice to just wait and see, and told your dad I had no clue what he should do. So, in typical "Daltons of York" style, we stuck with our routine. Dad went to work.
Sufficed to say, about an hour after he left, I was calling him to tell him to return. I had waited about as long as I could for him (at least another hour for him to drive) and was about to leave without him in fear I'd have you in the house or on the way, when he finally did return home only to tell me he hadn't packed anything for the hospital. So I waited. Your dad decided to drive through the city during York City's version of "rush hour" which isn't much, but it is slower than the highway. On the way, he generously offered the right of way to about every driver who needed it. So I waited. We arrived at the hospital and completely forgot where to park - so in typical "Daltons of York" style we took a guess and were wrong. We had to have a security guard walk us to the maternity ward, while all along the contractions were getting pretty heavy. We check in and the doctor checks to see if I am far enough along - aaaaaand at about 8 centimeters dilated, we all decided that I was having a baby that day - July 26, 2012.
From there, the story could get longer, but here's the short version: While both you and your sister took the exact same about of time from the beginning of labor to birth (8 hours) a MAJOR difference between my delivery of you and of her was that yours was wonderful. I have a few theories as to why that is but they are irrelevant. For the record, I rejoiced at your sister's birth, don't get me wrong, but if I'm going to experience extraordinary amounts of pain, I'd rather know what to expect. And as the first, that just wasn't possible for my delivery of her. But with you, I... I...
Well anyways, short version: you are born on the 3rd push after I was in the hospital for only 3 hours. I had to have a small surgery so couldn't eat until afterwards which wasn't until 9 hours after I'd delivered you. Your grandparents and father and sister did eat... right in front of me which was "awesome." The Olympics started the day after you were born so your father and I had that playing on the TV for most of the time. Your father met you and loved you right away. And your sister met you and loved you right away. Your grandparents and aunts met you and loved you right away. I finally put a face to the wonderful being in my belly and the love I'd had for 40 weeks grew exponentially.
When you read this, I have no idea what the state of technology will be. Today, the common form of capturing a moment is via digital picture and video. We have plenty of pictures of you, but I'm working so hard to imprint your image in my mind that I wanted to describe your presence: You have a color of hair that teeters between reddish and blondish... I guess strawberry blonde, but I don't know. Your amount of hair is just right - not too much but enough that I can give you a little girly style - at the moment a Pebbles pony tail on the top of your head. Your lips are so perfect and your cheeks could be holding a little nut in each one. You have nice little ears, I suppose, but it's hardly a feature I can describe well. Of course you have the little baby nose. You are very long in stature... You have long fingers, long toes, long legs and long arms. You are long. Your knees have callouses on them because you still prefer crawling to walking, although I think you'll put crawling aside very soon. You are kissed by many mosquitoes and the bites well up. So far, you only have two little bottom teeth that pop out when you smile - which is a lot. Your two favorite modes of body-expressions (besides smiling) are pointing and clapping. And how could one forget your eyes. The big, round blueberries staring at people as they engage with you. You often give a "deer in headlights" expression (so if I'm doing justice to my written-picture I should paint that image with words) although that trait is fading and big smiles usually appear on your face when people speak to you.
You are my Z. You are my bookend. You have taken what was an open end to our family, closed it in, tied it up, and completed it. You are you. You are God's little angel. You are mine, your dad's, your sister's. We are yours. God is yours. God loves you. We love you. I love you. Take care, Sweet Z, all the days of your life and know that you are loved by many. Happy First Birthday!
Love always,
Mom
Wednesday, January 16, 2013
Blind-Sighted
As any parent trying to get to school / work or to an
appointment or ANYwhere on time can attest – getting out of the house in one
piece – never mind on time and with all necessities – is a circus act. And it’s no exception in my house, trying to
get my five-month and almost-3-year old out of the door. Making sure I’ve got all the show and tell
items, extra diapers or wipes, my own food and bag, closing doors, locking
locks… and then I have to turn off all of the lights.
With arm hooked under car seat handle, I run through the house
doing a lock check and turning off the lights.
Mari, with banana in hand, could be in any one of the rooms – singing,
counting, hanging out… telling me what to do…
And then the last, final light expires and she is frantic. “I’m coming Samara… Don’t worry, I’ll be
right there.” I even open the front door
to shed the streetlamp light into the house.
This makes it easier – I can direct her to “go toward the light” as if
in some cult, but still, she doesn’t like it and is never entirely at ease
until she is holding my hand.
Again, this makes me wonder whether God feels this same way
about us – all of His children. When
situations change, if things flip upside down, if we reverse course or even if
the lights go out, He knows exactly where we are going. So while we’re in the dark, He is guiding
us. He is our sight when we are
blind. Like Samara, once we realize we
are still, somehow, living in His word, and doing His will, we ease our
anxieties and move on.
I suppose this is what I am going through. As I chip ever so slowly away at this
200-page project, with hardly a word actually written and a goal to finish in 6
months, each time the printer drum breaks, or the data is lost, or the baby is
up during my writing time, or, or, or – any one of the million possibilities –
every time I feel like I’m swirling out of control. I say I want to give up, but luckily He talks
some sense into me and I know, deep down inside, that I am going to keep on
keeping on. I don’t know whether I will
finish, I don’t know what the purpose of this “exercise” is. But I rest assured knowing that with Him, I
am blind-sighted and will end up where He wants me to be.
Thursday, January 10, 2013
Ducks in a Row
My daughter, Lord love her, has her own obsessions. Watching her chunky little two-year old hands line up her red Crocs next to each other, at 6:45am, while she insists "It has to be perfect!" and I consider whether I'll make it to work on time, is so frustrating to me (although I don't let her know this). I watch her line up the shoes, balance delicately on one leg, and gently tap the alignment out of place, and stand - unshoed and unnerved - back onto two feet. She tries this many times and finally says to me, "I can't, Mommy!!" "Sweetie, you know I don't like those words." "Okay, Mommy, I need help please." And I hold her hand, so she can slide one foot in, and then the other, resulting in a perfectly-postured position.
I imagine this is how God feels watching me. I try to line up everything - family, academics, spirituality and health (FASH as I think of it) and the minute one thing is out of place, I cry, "I can't!" Can't continue on, continue forward, continue. And while I might ask God for help, I don't really know what that help from Him looks like or...is. I am so determined that things are wrong, that I don't consider that they are on the way to right.
And so, I've gone through ups and downs. I have very productive weeks and end up parched in the desert the next. Small incidents are exponentially magnified. And somehow, somewhere, I am still so damned determined to move on... I don't think many people realize the internal struggle I go through, but it's there - the struggle of wanting to do it all. I know. Not a grandiose struggle, right? I mean, I have a roof over my head, but 10,000 times more blessings than that, and a roof is much more than many people in our world have.
But it isn't about comparing my life with others'. It is about figuring out what in God's name (quite literally) I am supposed to be doing here on earth. These past 10 days, I have not spent as much time studying scripture as I wanted. I haven't blogged as frequently as I'd planned. And normally, the fact that I'd failed at first would cause me to "fail to the end" - just give up. But I've spent so much time listening, waiting, sort of... being guided. I think of the things that have gotten in my way this month... let's take my 5-month old. Sick as the Dickens this month. Bronchiolitis; double ear infection. We've been up night after night after night. Sticking binky back in mouth, rocking to sleep, soothing cries...And what happens to the parents? As my mother says, "...they wilt on the vine."
But I haven't felt so wilted - even without the caffeine. I am amazed that I still get up around 5am and continue on my day, chugging water, and nothing else, yet alert and unfazed by it all. I guess my point, if I have one because I frequently lose it, is that the help I seek from God right now comes in the form of a gentle comfort. Knowing that no matter what it is I'm doing at any moment, I'm somehow doing what I am supposed to be doing. That my version of my life isn't God's so if he turns me around, I might as well start walking in that direction.
My daughter and I saw a flock of geese the other day. She had never seen one so I explained what it was and where the birds were going. I told her it made the letter "V" which techincally it did, but I couldn't help notice that the birds weren't symmetrical (dammit, Leigh, they are FLYING - and you expect them to be "perfect?"). A few out of place here, some over there... But in the end, I'm sure they make it the warmer place they seek, and that is what I know God is telling me.
I imagine this is how God feels watching me. I try to line up everything - family, academics, spirituality and health (FASH as I think of it) and the minute one thing is out of place, I cry, "I can't!" Can't continue on, continue forward, continue. And while I might ask God for help, I don't really know what that help from Him looks like or...is. I am so determined that things are wrong, that I don't consider that they are on the way to right.
And so, I've gone through ups and downs. I have very productive weeks and end up parched in the desert the next. Small incidents are exponentially magnified. And somehow, somewhere, I am still so damned determined to move on... I don't think many people realize the internal struggle I go through, but it's there - the struggle of wanting to do it all. I know. Not a grandiose struggle, right? I mean, I have a roof over my head, but 10,000 times more blessings than that, and a roof is much more than many people in our world have.
But it isn't about comparing my life with others'. It is about figuring out what in God's name (quite literally) I am supposed to be doing here on earth. These past 10 days, I have not spent as much time studying scripture as I wanted. I haven't blogged as frequently as I'd planned. And normally, the fact that I'd failed at first would cause me to "fail to the end" - just give up. But I've spent so much time listening, waiting, sort of... being guided. I think of the things that have gotten in my way this month... let's take my 5-month old. Sick as the Dickens this month. Bronchiolitis; double ear infection. We've been up night after night after night. Sticking binky back in mouth, rocking to sleep, soothing cries...And what happens to the parents? As my mother says, "...they wilt on the vine."
But I haven't felt so wilted - even without the caffeine. I am amazed that I still get up around 5am and continue on my day, chugging water, and nothing else, yet alert and unfazed by it all. I guess my point, if I have one because I frequently lose it, is that the help I seek from God right now comes in the form of a gentle comfort. Knowing that no matter what it is I'm doing at any moment, I'm somehow doing what I am supposed to be doing. That my version of my life isn't God's so if he turns me around, I might as well start walking in that direction.
My daughter and I saw a flock of geese the other day. She had never seen one so I explained what it was and where the birds were going. I told her it made the letter "V" which techincally it did, but I couldn't help notice that the birds weren't symmetrical (dammit, Leigh, they are FLYING - and you expect them to be "perfect?"). A few out of place here, some over there... But in the end, I'm sure they make it the warmer place they seek, and that is what I know God is telling me.
Thursday, January 3, 2013
What I've Learned in 3 days of ONE-THREE
While the point of a fast is to - obviously - fast, i.e. withhold from various foods and beverages, in the Daniel Fast I am also working on other habits. For instance, I'm withholding from Facebook and from my games on my phone, such as Words With Friends. And it isn't some crazy idea I've had in my head, but instead, it is an attempt to understand how I spend my time. So by taking that activity away I can assess what I will do with this time come February 2013 when I am done with the fast and ready to move forward.
Another point of the fast is to - in a sense - be so hungry and tempted that we rely on God to get us through rather than given into the temptation. It is an opportunity for me to take the time that I would spend maybe on Facebook or playing my phone games, to focus on God and my relationship with Him.
So what has it been like? Well, the food fast hardly phases me. I mean, I LOVE to eat - cheese, especially. I LOVE myself a drink - beer, wine, you name it. But on the other hand, I can very simply ignore hunger pains. And that was pretty much working well until today when I had BANGING (literally) headache all day. But I persisted. This teaches me that I have a very strong will power.
WHEN.I.WANT.TO.
I have also learned that I CAN take the time out to cook and I CAN cook pretty well. I have pushed myself beyond my cooking boundaries (up to now, rather non-existent when your husband prefers to cook). I have made fried tofu and I even made my own 16 baked bean recipe. More importantly than the substance, is that I've experienced success in the process. Tim and I might have to pass Mackenzie back and forth, and we might have to trade off who is reading a book or playing Old MacDonald with Samara, but in the end, we get dinner on the table together, even though we have different meals. I can cook.
WHEN.I.WANT.TO.
So this brings me to the larger purpose I have for this fast - what do I do with my time? And more importantly, why can't / haven't I used the time I have to finish this dissertation? Well, there have been a few tasks for me to tackle on my list of "when I' not working on my dissertation." But in the past few days, I've not even had the energy to finish those tasks... So when I wake up and my to-do list from the day before is not tackled, I'm tempted to say, I just don't have the time. At this point, maybe what I'm learning is that, I have the time.
WHEN.I.WANT.TO.
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