Conflicted in Charlotte

This is one of those days I just MUST write.  No known reason, no known direction, just words a flowing.  I have been feeling a restlessness lately, deep down in my soul.  It's a restlessness stirring up discontent inside me.  It keeps poking and jabbing, wiggling it's way right smack into the middle of my mind, until all I can think about are all the things with which I am dissatisfied.  The interesting thing is, none of the "things" I'm angsty over are material or physical things.  It's not that I necessarily want more money, a bigger or different house, a more tone body,(the list could go on I'm sure)but instead, have a quiet heaviness over intangibles.

 I'm so conflicted over facebook, this blog, phones, social media in general.  Actually, those are symptoms of the real problem, catalysts even that seem to stir the pot in my soul.  I feel like I'm being sucked into the portal, drinking the koolaid, so to speak.  Before we know it, everything and everyone is accessible, nothing is sacred, everyone tries the game of one-upmanship, bigger and better, best and perfect foot forward, I want it NOW and with a snap of the fingers, or click of the mouse.  I know I am just rambling now, but I have had such a heavy heart about all this and the direction our society, or bringing it even closer to home, my family is headed.  I don't want to be on a computer, talking on a phone, texting, or watching T.V all my life.  And I CERTAINLY don't want my children living a stagnant life like that.  I want to read, play soccer, run, sew, play games with my children, laugh with my husband,cook, be fully present all the time, in a way that is becoming increasingly difficult in this world.  With the increase and advancement of technology comes a huge price to pay I believe.  I am struggling to balance it, sure I am by no means what most would refer to as really into social media, technologically savvy, or even really up to date on it all, and yet maybe too much for my own liking. 

Ahhh, even this blog one minute I love writing it, the next minute I feel self-awareness knocking at my back door, asking if PRIDE is there to come out and play.  One minute I think maybe, just MAYBE one little thing you write that the Lord has/is dealing with you in or bringing you through, will encourage just ONE person who might read your story.  Then the next minute,  I am being plagued by my conscience asking me if I really am writing because I love writing and would love to encourage others, OR is it because you want attention, want to be known, want to have others think you're really neat, really cool, really vulnerable, oh "she's really real."  When I think about it that way, the latter, it makes me want to puke, to weed out all that crap, all the selfish motivation, all the pride in anything.  I don't want to have pride in anything, but Jesus.  Let me boast only in Him, to make much of Him.  And yet today I just feel icky and want to scrap the whole thing, wondering if that really is my singular motivation.  I want to write, write, write and not tell a single soul.  I want to chuck my computer through the window and never go on facebook again and have everyone telling me how perfect their lives our while I feel such disgust for the very thing that also keeps me connected to so many friends.  About twice a week, I start to deactivate my fb account because I just feel like it's too much of a cloud of comparison that makes you feel like your life might not measure up, and then decide that I can't because it's my point of contact with soooooo many people from different seasons and actual states in my life.  So, for this moment I guess the benefits outweigh the negatives for me, but it truly is moment to moment and pushing me to renegotiate some things in my life.  I'm not even sure all this made sense or what, if any, conclusions I have come to, but I do know this is the Holy Spirit's prompting once again, because anytime I feel this heavy about something, this uncomfortable, dragging my feet a bit, it turns out to be Him sharpening and weeding me some more. 

Mommy and Me

OK, so I am a liar.  Big. Fat. Liar.  So much for my blogging once a week.  I am barely doing the once a month thing.  Now that we all know not to trust me, let's not let that become a wedge between us, harboring bitterness, festering like a wound, until it  finally explodes one day on the old lady at the grocery store, who casually mentioned there wasn't a good selection of produce, clearly alluding to the fact I have not been attending to exploiting myself via the interweb as of late. 

With that out of the way, life is such a funny thing. It has such a funny way of sneaking up on you.
Life has a funny, funny way of helping you out.
Helping you out.

Hmmm, that sounded like a song?  Where was I...life really is such a funny thing.  A beautiful, ugly, wonderful, harsh, adventurous, and hard thing.  And God is constantly, in His ever-loving, gentle, and sometimes not so gentle way, teaching me and refining me in areas.  These are at times areas I am directly aware of already, at times areas I am vaguely aware of, but may not want to face up to at the moment, and still other times I just plain don't even realize they exist until the Holy Spirit oh so patiently points them out to me.....over and over and over.  Alas, twas the case with this particular issue.

As some are aware, I haven't had the best relationship with my mother for a variety of reasons.  Growing up with a mother that was an undiagnosed and unmedicated bi-polar until the age of 15, made for some excruciating memories.  These were memories not talked about within our family circle, nor really even alluded to until several years ago.  On the one hand I feel like they are vague and nonexistent to my mother, while perhaps on the other, magnified or exaggerated for my siblings and me, although I wouldn't know because we have never talked about them or her in that way.  Due to this, unbeknownst to me, (and sometimes beknownst :) ) I have had some bitterness and resentment built up toward her, and truthfully did neither fully care, nor fully recognize it.  I have always admired and noticed when other girls have really great relationships with their mothers, but honestly didn't even desire for myself because 1.  I didn't think I needed or wanted it since I was not used to it, and 2. I did not think it was attainable,(a lot happens in my subconscious apparently)and took for granted as an unspoken truth that the relationship I have had with my mom, was, is, and always will be the same.  A static relationship with no real depth. 

However, enter the Lord Almighty and His sweet, sweet, nudging and prodding Spirit.  Over the course of the last couple months I have been slowly feeling the Lord layer by layer, pulling at and tugging away, the veil over my eyes.  He has been sweetly singing in my ear lullabies of love, life giving words, breaking the bondage of lies the enemy has deceitfully whispered for years, until I no longer distinguished them as such, and bestowing graciously in me an alien desire and appreciation for my mother.  He has been planting seeds of restoration in my heart through His word, sweet people He has placed in my life, and  my truth-speaking husband.  It is all such a work in progress, but if these are to be the words forever cemented in my mind's eye, these words I write here to both remember and regret, then I want to accurately chart the voyage He is taking me.  I want to be honest in all things, both my successes, ever giving Him the glory, as well as my failures, being able to look back at one more notch on my life staff and say, "For He is good."