2 Bags of Crisps and a Packet of Biscuits

Did you read the title of this post? That's what I ate while sitting at my desk earlier today. In about 15 minutes. I was definitely not supposed to eat that. I didn't want to. But I did. And do. Most days. Alone. In secret.

This post is basically going to be me trying to figure out why. It may never get posted (I do that a lot - you would be surprised how often I actually blog, even when this page doesn't get updated for months and months - writing really helps me process stuff).

So...What The Actual Heck is going on with my snacking? Here follow some random thoughts in no particular order...

Around September, I realised I had no energy to play with Little Miss, and I thought I would try Couch to 5K (again). This time I stuck with it and have kept up with running. I am currently fitter than I have ever been. This means I give myself permission to snack more, and to snack on unhealthy things, because I am more active and therefore "can take" more calories. (Rationally, I know this makes no sense, but my brain is very clever at convincing me it does.)

My sleep has been disrupted (every single night) for 16 months and 2 days - since our precious boy arrived in our family. Lack of sleep makes me hungry, I tell myself. In particular it makes me crave sugar. And it saps my self-control (what little of it I have), making me more likely to give in to temptation. In the interests of being completely honest (even while worrying what you will all think about it), I'll own that I'm also still breastfeeding, and from anecdotal evidence, that is also a hunger-inducing activity!

Like so many of us, I feel like I am trying to keep a heck of a lot of balls in the air. All the time. My marriage, bringing up two little ones, my very vocational ministry job, precarious finances, never-ending laundry, friendships, a relationship with God, walking the dog - there is just so much to think about and fit into each day. And eating is a stress-reliever for me. I know it's unhealthy, I don't seem to know how to stop.

But I really want to.
Stop.
I hate my lack of self-control.
I hate that I constantly think about food and feel hungry.
I feel guilty all the time, as though I am lying, hiding, being duplicitous.
I dread being found out, and worry what people will think of me when they know for sure that I really don't have it all together (if I don't post this, here is the reason why).
And I'm scared that this eating must mean I'm suppressing something HUGE and if I stop I might discover it and fall apart (again).

But really, and deep down, I do know that eating junk food is not what is holding me together.

"He is before all things, and in him all things are held together" (Colossians 1:13).

And I know that what I need is to replace my faulty coping strategies with some unfaulty ones (yes, definitely a word). Like blogging. Which really helps. And like replacing the lies in my head with real, true, truth that says food can't fix anything broken inside me and it can't replenish my hungry soul. Which seems laughably obvious when you see it written down like that!

Once again, the lesson I have to learn is to turn to the place I know truth comes from. "For he satisfies the longing soul, and the hungry soul he fills with good things." (Psalm 107:9)

I am really, genuinely frightened of posting this, but I think that in order for things to change, it needs to be out there. I am sick of hiding and shame. I want to own my struggles and my weaknesses and through them allow God to work in me. And I want the glory to go to him - and that can't happen if no-one knows about it.

So here goes...

Windows (the glass kind)

"When God closes a door, somewhere He opens a window," sighs Maria to herself as she is ejected from the Abbey towards the beginning of The Sound of Music. (Yes, one of the best singing nun films ever made.) And then she sings a number all about having confidence in herself and sunshine and Spring and all sorts of other things that aren't God.

I've noticed a similar sort of dichotomy in my own life. Just recently God has closed the door on my time serving in Bristol. This wasn't "the plan" and has left me wondering what's next. God shut the door, so where's that open window that's just the right size for me to wriggle through?

And there's the problem, I'm instantly looking for the next thing. I'm so terrified I'll miss it (or that maybe actually God doesn't have a further plan for me) that I'm putting my energy into trying to suss out and work towards the next thing. And worse, I'm kind of telling God what should be through that next window when it opens...

• Something that uses my gifts, skills and experience.
• Something that will provide for my family.
• Something that will further validate the joys and struggles I've been through recently.

Have you ever found yourself slipping into a similar trap? 

"I'll end this relationship that's pulling me away from God and He will provide me with the right person to marry."

"I'll give away my money/possessions and God will give me a laptop/car/4 bedroom semi when I need one."

I am learning that when God closes a door He may open a window, but it will be the window He chooses, not the one I identify on His behalf. And actually He might decide to open a sunroof instead of a window. Or turn on the air-conditioning (apparently I am now in a car in this metaphor, I'm choosing to go with it, feel free to join me...)

It's good to have dreams and plans and to get excited about opportunities and about the future. It's bad, and frankly, pointless, to try to dictate to God how He should be guiding and blessing you. (And please don't try to force your way through a window you think ought to be open for you but isn't, you could end up with glass in nasty places - I've been there. Metaphorically. Obviously.) 

I think what I'm trying to say is:

"Trust in the Lord with all your heart; do not depend on your own understanding. Seek his will in all you do, and he will show you which path to take."

Proverbs 3:5-6

Here I am, focusing on windows when - be they open or closed, whether what I can see through them looks like sunshine and buttercups or storms and thorn bushes - they are not the point. Once again I need to learn that the outcome is not the same as the end goal. What I end up doing is not the point. 

The point is knowing God well enough to really trust him to open the right window at the right time. Why am I trying to climb through windows when I could be spending time with officially the best person in the universe? (One day I'll learn this lesson...)

Breathing like a fish...

Have you ever seen Finding Nemo? (Stay with me, I'm almost sure I have a point)

There's a moment near the beginning of the film just after (*spoiler alert*) Nemo has been caught by divers when Marlin, his Dad, comes to the surface of the water desperately looking and calling for his son. But of course, he's a fish, so he can only exist above the water for a very limited amount of time. 

So he has to plunge back into the water to take a life-prolonging "breath" (no, I don't understand how fish work and it seemed like too much hassle to look it up) before he can come up again and look and call some more. 

Right now I relate to Marlin! I gave birth to a ridiculously wonderful little boy 16 days ago. And since then (highlights including the expected sleep deprivation, 2 unexpected bouts of mastitis, re-learning how to breastfeed, and Little Miss getting a sickness virus), it's felt a lot like I've been frantically swimming around on the surface existing on the last "breath" I managed to take in some time before Baby arrived.

And this morning as Baby sleeps on me and Little Miss eats her breakfast I am realising that I need to follow Marlin's example if I'm going to be able to continue on my own adventure. 

I need to plunge into the depths and breathe deep the life-giving water I find there. Not the depths of the ocean, but the depths of the One who created it.

As the song says: "there I [will] find you in the mystery; in oceans deep my faith will stand."* 

There have been times in my life when maintaining my spirituality has felt like another task for the to do list, one more thing that needs to be gotten out of the way so I can continue on with the rest of life without feeling guilty. 

And then there are times like now. When it is so undeniably clear to me that life can only be found and sustained when I plunge headfirst into the living water that is provided for me in abundance - and breathe deep. That's the only way I'm going to get through this day, tomorrow, and whatever may be around the corner (and I'm hoping that writing it down here will help me next time I forget...)

So if you need me, I'll be over here, taking some time to breathe like a fish. 

*Oceans, by Hillsong 

The Clichéd New Year's Resolution Post

Making resolutions is a favourite hobby of mine. It's part list-making, part unbridled optimism, and part beating yourself up - three things which come very naturally to me, and so I am enthusiastic about bringing them together.

I have never worried about limiting my resolution-making to "the season" (as it were) but I do tend to get a bit reflective at this time of year, and that usually leads to some resolution-type thoughts floating around waiting to be attended to.

I'm rather pragmatic about all of this, by the way - I reckon a couple of months (weeks? days?) of something good which then fizzles out is better than no time spent on the good thing at all. And you never know, this might be the time something sticks and my life is changed forever (the aforementioned unbridled optimism really does come in handy).

So today - as I have woken up late (late being 8.45am. Little Miss slept for 14 HOURS bless her wonderful soul!), packed bags, said goodbye to family, driven home, unpacked bags, cried a little over the last Miranda, and still not watered the poor, flagging Christmas tree - there has been a list taking shape in the back of my head that I am finally allowing myself to attend to.

I'm not going to share everything on that list, but as item number seven appeared on the paper, I realised words had been put to something that's been hanging around the outskirts of my consciousness for a while, and that I wanted to record it here.What I wrote was as follows:

"Be less afraid, less ashamed and more me."

To be honest, I wouldn't exactly call that a resolution; it's very different to the other items on my list. I like to set myself quantifiable goals, things I can tick off when they have been achieved. (For the record, I regularly add things to lists after I have done them, just to tick them off. I'm not even ashamed about it.) But as I let my brain wander over the things I plan to focus on this year, I got that funny feeling in my stomach which I have come to associate with God's voice breaking in to my situation (by the way, does anyone else get the stomach thing? Probably no-one does). And then I wrote that sentence.

And I realised I have lost some of my freedom. I don't know what exactly has been the cause. Possibly the transition I've made over the last 18 months from "woman" to "mother" - it is the best thing I have done or will ever do, but it does some funny things to your understanding of your Self. Possibly the move we made in September, leaving our community of more than ten years to follow God's call to a new job (a job share actually, between me and my husband) in a new church in a new city - I've never experienced having to begin again and establish so many relationships from scratch before.

I guess it doesn't really matter what the cause has been. What matters is that I don't remain where I am today. I believe that there is more to life than this. (I actually can't type that without thinking of the Zoolander quote I once used on some Alpha publicity "There must be more to life than being really, really, ridiculously good looking.") More to life than a feeling of needing to hold back in case...in case what? In case vague fears become reality and I am rejected somehow, or laughed at, or I fail.

I am looking for the freedom to be just exactly who I am and to accept that is all I can be and to know that it is enough. And I want to experience the fullness of life that I believe is part and parcel of that freedom. And I so badly need Jesus, in whom I believe all freedom and true fullness of life can be found.

So, to make a start down the path to being less afraid, less ashamed and more me (and handily beginning resolution number four), over the next couple of weeks I will be meditating on and memorising this verse, spoken by Jesus:

"The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I came so that they may have life, and have it abundantly." (John 10:10, NASB)

 
Are you making any resolutions for 2015?

This is my Sabbath, tell me yours

Last week, my doctor told me that "what I really need" (in order to shake this nasty virus that keeps stealing my voice) is a couple of days of rest, preferably with someone else watching Little Miss. I actually laughed in her face! 

This is the real world, I told her (well, actually, I just thought it in my head, because laughing at her was already a little rude, and also, the virus had stolen my voice). 

In the real world (said my brain) you can't just stop and rest, because while you are trying to rest you will just be worrying about having even less time to do all the GAZILLION things that you didn't have enough time to do before you tried to rest.

Then I went to church on Sunday evening and it was a bit like (read "exactly like") God laughed in MY face...

I already knew the topic was going to be Sabbath. 
I already knew I had to pay proper attention because one of my lovely young people couldn't make it and had asked me to let her know "the gist" of what was covered. 
I already knew that setting aside time to rest, renew and restore is something God wants me to prioritise.
I already knew that God made me as a human being, not a human "doing".
But I had forgotten.
I'd forgotten that it's not me that makes the world happen!
I'd forgotten that we are supposed to "work from rest, rather than rest to work."*
I'd ignored the fact that "not taking Sabbath is a sin."**

Eeshk. (No, not a word, but the best group of letters at my disposal to describe precisely my state of being at that moment).

So then we had our discussion time, and a question posed was - what does your Sabbath look like? What can you give your time to and guarantee that you will come out the other side refreshed and renewed? What helps you pause and breathe and thank? 

And the answer was out of my mouth before my brain had even cottoned on (not an unusual occurrence for me). "Writing." 

Writing is where I find my stillness, my rest, my peace. It's not my only Sabbath, but it's a very important one that I have been neglecting. So here I am. This is my Sabbath. What's yours? (Really - I am very interested and actually asking you! Let me know in the comments!)


*Mark Buchanan
** Pete Scazzaro

It's a small, small world

With the recent arrival of my daughter, many things in my world seem to have suddenly shrunk. My life is looking very different. It now revolves around twenty weeny fingers and toes, piles and piles of miniature clothing too cute to be believed, and short, snatched bursts of activity or sleep (it's taken two sittings to complete this post, and guess what - it's shorter than my usual offerings!)

And I believe God is teaching me something kind of big through all this small-ness (of course it's a word - you know what it means don't you?) 

I am someone who tends to measure my worth by my achievements. I can't count the number of wise and helpful spiritual friends who have tried to help me see that I am a human "being" not a human "doing" and that it's ok to sit still sometimes and just "be". That if I can't "do" or if what I "do" doesn't meet expectations, my value does not decrease. I know all of that to be true. It's just that I've never quite managed to apply it to my life.

When I was suffering with depression, I was unable to do what I was used to doing or wanted to do. I was so blessed to find that the people around me in general, and God in particular, didn't reject me, forget about me, or punish me for my lack of achievement. But that didn't change my focus on getting better so I could go back to "doing".

Now what I am "doing" is looking after my baby girl. Some days I don't see anyone except for her and my husband. I find I have little to add to a conversation that doesn't revolve around the wonders of cloth nappies (they do look lovely on my washing line!), cleaning up sick (you get significantly less thorough as time goes on...) or the trials of breastfeeding (this probably isn't the arena for that though, right?) And I am surprisingly unbothered (also a word) by the fact that my contribution to wider society is currently - well - small. That's not the lesson I'm learning, though. 

Here's the lesson:

I can (and absolutely do) sit for hours holding my child or watching her and I am blown away by how amazing she is, how precious, how I would literally do anything for her. And what has she done? Nothing. Nothing anyone would call an achievement, anyway. She sleeps, eats, cries, smiles, poos, coos, cwtches, wriggles and sneezes and yet she is the most utterly priceless thing in the universe.

And maybe so am I.

Thoughts about Thinking (aka An Exercise in Avoidance)

So there has been a LONG gap between posts. I feel as though I should apologise, although I'm pretty sure no-one has been on tenterhooks for the last 9 months waiting for an update. I'm sorry anyway though, mostly to myself, as this is more proof (as if I needed it) that I can be inconsistent and hugely lacking in discipline - even when the task at hand is something that is both good for me and that I enjoy.

9 months is a pretty significant time-lapse don't you think? Not least because as I sit here typing, I am 4 days away from my EDD (that's Estimated Due Date, for those of you who don't spend half your current existence lurking on pregnancy and birth forums), and mostly trying to convince myself that hubby and I are completely ready to welcome Baby Girl Dobbo into our lives! (Which we're almost certainly not. But that's ok - it will just happen anyway and we'll figure it out as we go. Right?)

It's been an interesting journey. One of the more difficult aspects was coming off my antidepressants when I discovered I was pregnant (something I was hoping do a little later and rather more slowly than ended up being the case). Although that was by no means an easy process, and the aftermath was pretty tough, I am through it, and today I'm in a better place than I've been for a long time - a much better place than I would have imagined if I'd thought about it beforehand.

But I didn't. Think about it beforehand. And that is a theme of my life. I don't think. Well, obviously I think. I don't think there's anyone who actually doesn't think. The name of this blog is an admission that I think. But it's that pre-thinking, thinking-about-the-future, that I find a struggle. I am generally focused on the present. My mind is taken up with whatever is in front of me at a given time. I find it difficult to reflect internally (hence blogging is a useful tool for me) and even more difficult to consider the future in any meaningful way. So, if you don't mind indulging me, I would like to spend a little time thinking about that now. Thinking about how I think.

 How the way I think can be helpful:

• I can usually focus on the task at hand regardless of potential distractions from other areas.
• I don't find decision-making particularly hard, I'm generally happy to think of a way forward that is "good enough" and go for it, figuring that I'll deal with any problems if/when they present themselves.
• I don't worry as much as some others I know who are deeper thinkers (when I'm well, anyway).
• I am rarely disappointed when things don't go the way I imagined/wanted/expected, because I never thought that far ahead anyway!

How the way I think can be harmful:

• I can stick my head in the sand and ignore something, even something major, incredibly effectively. Sadly, this does not mean the major thing goes away and at various times I have found myself left woefully unprepared.
• If I don't write things down I will usually forget them and never think of them again. To-do lists and phone reminders are a matter of survival in my day-to-day life. (In the same vein; if I don't reply to a text immediately, I am very unlikely to ever reply at all. I know that's really rude and that I've probably done it to you and if so, I am genuinely sorry).
• I often find myself unable to express why I do what I do, or believe what I believe, because although I know I have reasons, I usually haven't taken enough time to examine them.
• I tend to take things and people at face value and hardly ever question the motives of others, which can make me quite vulnerable.

Well, there you go, all that first-rate thinking has thoroughly tired me out now, so I will stop there. I would imagine that the next time I post, I will be a Mum (but let's not think about that now, not when dinner needs cooking and I need to renew my tax disc and I should probably put some laundry on......)

Thanks very much for reading this rather existential post - I would be interested to hear how you relate to any of this - how do you think, and how does that help/hinder you?