This morning I dreamed I was pregnant. I'd wake up to an alarm (I set three) and I'd realize the truth. But then I'd fall back to sleep and the dream would continue as before. My disbelief would be confounded by the firmness of my stomach and the positive pregnancy tests (I took three). Those tests have been such a source of pain and anxiety to me in the past, that answer has been so allusive. To see them, one after the other, affirming me in my hope and belief, was so rewarding, though a little tainted by my experience. Doubt never fully left me, but at least I was justified in my assertion: I was pregnant!
In the dream there was no one to tell, it was just me and my baby. I woke up for the final time on the verge of telling Tom.
I woke up so happy. The realization came quickly but, despite some obvious disappointment, the feeling of happiness stayed. I hugged Tom, I wore a smile, I thought about my dream with contentment.
As the morning has worn on I couldn't help thinking about the dream, the implications of the dream, the reality of my situation, the facts and feelings of my experience, and the likelihood of reliving the feelings the dream evoked in my waking life. I became sad. I am sick, I am tired, my hormones are nearing their monthly fever pitch, and after a flood of tears I felt some relief. But I am constantly sad. Somewhere in myself, at all times, I feel there is a part of me that must be constantly meditating on pregnancy be it for biological, social, or deeply personal reasons, I don't know. It is not a part of me that is concious or logical, it's a part that is raw and undefined and it's tapped into, against my will, when I dream a dream, or get a phone call, or read a story, see something, hear something. It's not terribly often and it ebbs and flows. It is easy to ignore, most of the time, and so I don't address it; I let it be.
I woke up so happy. I hugged Tom, I wore a smile, I thought about my dream with contentment. What happened after that was not good, or helpful and too often ignored.
"Life begins at the end of your comfort zone"
I read this this morning and though it's not the most original or eloquent phrase I've ever come across it is striking a cord in me as I prepare to buy a house (and pay for it), become involved in a new church, and try to become more Godly. That last one really takes a person out of their comfort zone.
If I had to describe my life in one word it might be "comfort", and that isn't what I want it to be. Assured? Yes. Secure?... Maybe. Comfortable? Please, no. The deepest, truest part of me does not want this. But the rest of me is full of fear, of the smallest and most ridiculous things much more often then the big, really threatening things.
There is only one source of real courage and tap it so infrequently. I let myself wallow in all kinds of fear and other shallowness and I blame my habits and attitudes on the world around me. I chalk it all up to an inevitability in "these days". I lie. I hide. I get online instead of opening my Bible. I seek help where there is little or none to be got. I seek life where it is barren and wasted. I don't seek joy.
I make the mistake of valuing my comfort zone and thinking of it as harmless and somehow good.
I wait in vain for life to begin.
I swear I accidentally said, "yee-haw", eight hundred times today. We went for a scenic country drive today with the clients in one of our well-loved wheelchair-lift buses and some of those turns, dips and potholes just snuck up on us. I suggested we do a three-part harmony of, Everybody Hurts, but no one agreed. That was not the only great song to grace the radio waves today and for the most part Brooke B. was on board for random duets, but those were in the vein of Bonnie Raitt's Something To Talk About.Brooke is a self-proclaimed "red-neck" and calls me "flowerchild". The yee-haws, however, were solely mine, and the biggest one of all is this...
Tom and I signed a bunch of papers last night to finalize our offer and the sale is pending! We just have to do a million things (or so it seems) and pay for this and that and then, God-willing, that sucker's ours! Yes, we are poor. Yes, we needed my dad to do any of this and will be forever indebted to him, but, what else is new? We are so in love with this place and so, so fortunate to have the means (however untenable they feel) to go after it.
The other day when I was saying, "thank you" to my Dad for helping us so much he said, "You can thank God for that." And every time I tell anyone that I cry. I haven't let God give me much of anything lately but he still blesses those who desire to bless me, and I am reminded of when I was a kid and I used to sulk forever over some small hurt while those around me had fun and laughed and carried on in spite of me and I would feel left out and lonely and ultimately foolish for getting myself into that fix. When I got older I decided not to live that way anymore, and realized that no one holds it against you if you release your grudge and just come waltzing back into community with a smile on your face. But it is amazing how sinful habit persists despite all our revelations and gained wisdom. It lies just to one side of the narrow path, just a step away; so accessible and so treacherous.
It's funny that this is my big first-home-reveal post (oh me!) but it's reflective of the truth: charming and simple work life; muddled and emotional personal life; and OH MY GOSH we're getting a house!!! Yep, that just about sums it up. Don't worry about us. I will not say all is well, because that isn't quite right, but "all is well" wasn't getting us very far anyway.
I should add that as I finished that last sentence my phone rang and my little sister, Amelia, after confirming with me whether or not Lucrezia Borgia was a real person, told me that she and Jesse were selflessly jumping for joy when they heard we were buying a house, and added many other wonderful things that left me tearful and humbled. I'm sure there will be much humbling in my future as we set off into the world of home-ownership and strive to make ends meet. And while I can't honestly say I look forward to so much mortification and desperation I am wary of a future without it. Maybe this is a fault of mine. Well-spent time with tell.
My life has changed in so many ways since last I wrote here; most significantly with the birth of my nephew, Luke. But closer to home (not away in Idaho, I mean) things have been shifting steadily. Much as usual our future is very unclear and our present is very precarious. There is not much about it that I want to talk about and when I envision doing so I see myself many, many years down the road looking back to this time of clear struggles - a blessing in their clarity - and also remarkable peace. In the uncomfortableness of my situation I understand that God has not given up on us; that he is here, pulling us through a keyhole to the other side of His promises because we are determined not to knock and enter through the door itself.
Our apartment is wonderful, but very messy today and often. Our first Christmas tree sits a few feet away from me where I sit on our bed and is blinking its multi-colored lights - lights we bought but couldn't afford and didn't need. They remind me that we are blessed, but also that we are careless and that it would be well for us to be squeezed tighter, bound longer in financial insecurity so that we may release our grip on this world and its trappings and embrace the riches God gives us freely.
He finds me here today, undone. And so you find me; hopefully to do some good through communicating feelings, revelations, joy and grief and remembering old things and recognizing new things through the telling.
I love you all and I want to be here for you, if only in some small way. I miss you - People, World - I'm coming back out of myself to be with you.
New pictures of my baby nephew. Is he still a baby when he looks like this and talks and does rodeos?... Yes? Yes! Yes, he is. I did not get sufficient time with him in his baby form so I'm saying it's still on! I mean, he's in a stroller, he's not potty trained, he enters through the doggy door (apparently) - I say that's puppy status.
Things have been pretty different around these parts. I'm too zapped of energy to say much about that... to do much more than watch Parks and Rec and Fringe and drink ice water, actually. It's been pretty warm and Tom's and my sleep schedule is all bejanxy - mostly thanks to Fringe which we watch late into the night. Today he's away on business. I managed to buy four great pairs of too-long jeans from Saint Vincent's today (then discovered a hole in my previously best pair - great timing). They're too long because for some reason Gap's Long and Lean are what works best for my short and stout figure. Don't look at me!
I'm almost officially a size larger than usual.
I blame the heat... maybe unduly.
I also bought a Michael Kors sweater and some grey sneakers. It was feeling very "back-to-school", which is my favorite feeling, or one of them. But this year it's "back-to-work". I'm excited. Bring it on! Bring on life in general, really. Things are lookin' good.
Including me. In my new jeans. I got honked at.