Receiving Correction

Whether I ever have my work published beyond the odd magazine article or two, I am a writer. 

In the core of my self there is a place always thinking of stories and writing poems and outlining topics I would teach. Words are always swirling around in my head.

A few mornings ago, when my husband and I were sitting together on the couch doing our coffee/wake-up thing, he came across this verse the other day in his Bible reading app:

Whoever heeds instruction is on the way to life, but whoever rejects a rebuke goes astray.

~Proverbs 10:17 (NRSV)

Since then that Proverb has been running around in my head in some sort of dance with all the other words in there. When I go to write something down, even if it’s my own private thoughts in a journal, there is usually at least a typo or two or a word scratched out. Even when the words come quickly and easily onto the page they don’t come perfectly. 

In the privacy of my home scratching out a word or idea doesn’t sting, it’s just part of the creative process, the hunt for words that mesh with the verbal picture I am trying to paint. A typo isn’t a reason for embarrassment, but a natural outcome of typing. In the privacy of my home I know I am not perfect, at least not on the first try.

I think of myself as a person eager to learn and grow as a person. Until someone other than myself or God points out my mistakes.

Why is this a problem? It’s not like there are not many who enjoy having their errors pointed out, I’m not alone in this.

Part of the problem is our culture. Out in the larger world there is a less friendly space to err. Typos on a blog are ridiculed. Scratched out words look like a mess. One mistake and you are labeled unredeemable.

But part of the problem is me. I don’t actively work to make it safe to correct me. 

I get defensive over typos and simple errors that do need correction. I’ve never been a great speller. It’s not like I can afford to pay an editor, I have five kids you know.

And while I am eager to learn, I am insecure at heart. I know many of my flaws but am afraid of having others point them out, even if it means I could work on them. I get scared of other people, afraid they will point out a part of myself that is a mess, someplace I've haven't yet begun to pull myself together.

Scared that maybe correction is rejection.

When Jesus walked the earth he talked to the people looking for wisdom about becoming like a child again. Jesus even went so far as to say we need to be born again.

What does that mean? For me, this day, it means I need to take a page from our youngest son. He’s never worried that if he trips and falls I will make fun of him. I know his feet or legs are growing and he’s constantly having to adjust for a changing body. There is no ridicule in our household for honest mistakes, there will be conversation and sometimes frustration, but not anger.

How does my son not walk around afraid of falling? He falls all the time. In fact he seems to relish his bruises.

Maybe it’s because my son also spends much of his day on or very near me. Maybe it’s because cuddled close after a fall he’s sure I love him.

When I’m far from God and I fall or someone corrects an honest mistake I act like a feral child. I snap at the hand that reaches out to help. In my fear I seek independence from everything and everyone.

When I sit on God’s lap, aware I am a child of God, when God’s arms are tight around me there is no room for the embrace of fear.

And I am better able to receive correction as I test out the world and falls as signs of growth.

He who is full loathes honey, but to the hungry even what is bitter tastes sweet.

~Proverbs 27:7 (NIV)

In my writing it’s easy to see this truth. When I’m hungry to learn and grow I push aside fear and submit my work to my peers to be critiqued. Typos don’t even register as something to be up in arms over. I want to grow. I want to make the best use of this gift I have been given.

This is my prayer for the week:

May I always be hungry for you, God. May I never be satisfied with fear and hiding. Grant me the courage to climb into Your lap. In Your loving-mercy, wrap Your arms around me. Fill me with an awareness of Your presence. 

I want to walk on the path of life.

Amen.

5 Tips To Recover After Travel

     Recently I attended the Blue Ridge Mountains Christian Writers Conference which involved five days away from the family.

     Before leaving was busy as I set up my husband to handle the kid’s activities, meals, and still work from home. I had a great week away working on the craft of writing and networking with great people. But it’s also a long week of job interviews and classes, and I came home tired. It got me thinking of our summer travel plans.
    

     Often I find myself frazzled after our summer fun. What are ways to make summer travel easier?
    
     Here’s 5 Tips to Recover After Travel (so you don’t die or kill your family)

1. Set up at least one dinner ahead of time for your return.

     I don’t know about you but the last thing I want to do when I get back from the beach or camping is cook dinner. Even if we get in late, well after the dinner hour, having a meal set up for the next day at home is a Godsend. The first full day back is usually spent unloading backpacks and suitcases, doing laundry and settling back into the home. And I’m usually exhausted.

     Why not cook something ahead of time?

     Meals I like to set up so I don’t have to do more than cook fresh rice or pasta are:

Chili - Chili can be frozen in quantity, I just stick mine into the freezer in a big plastic tub, and tastes great reheated. A simple set up of the rice cooker and 45 minutes later I have a hot meal ready to serve on a day I didn’t feel like cooking.

Soup - Whenever I make a soup I always make a double batch. My husband and I both work to keep at least one meal of chicken noodle for seven in the freezer for these occasions. And because mom-is-sick-of-cooking happens even on a regular day.

Goulash - American goulash is a kid friendly twist on spaghetti. Goulash like this one here: Goulash, can be made ahead of time, just withhold the noodles until reheating. After the sauce is thawed and reheated just add the noodles directly to the sauce to cook. My kids love this dish with our gluten-free brown rice macaroni noodles and sprinkled with shredded cheese.

2. Have a quiet activity prepped for the first day home

     One of the downsides of a return home is everyone is fatigued. And tired kids are kids who pick fights with each other.

     Knowing this is going to happen I prep a simple activity ahead of time. I’m not a mom good at all the Pinterest worthy kids crafts, so by simple I mean I go and get a pack of inexpensive sidewalk chalk, bubbles, or a set of spiral bound art paper and new colored pencils.

     Anything that engages kids for at least a half hour and which I can bring out when people start to get on each other’s nerves.


3. Enforce a mandatory nap time. For everyone. That means you too.

     Traveling is an energy drain so plan time for extra rest on your return. Even if your kids are too old for naps (or think they are) everyone could use more down time after a trip. Set at least an hour or two after lunch your first full day home. Older children can bring books, paper and drawing supplies or a favorite toy, but everyone must be on their bed for the time you set.

     For my kiddos with difficulty not talking and bugging their roommate-sibling I remind them their time doesn’t start until they stop talking.

     Even if reality with parenting five kids is I don’t get more than a power 15-20 minute nap, I can rest, or at least enjoy the temporary quiet and get up ready to take on the household again.


     What things do you do to recover after a trip?

Redefining Accomplishment

Several weeks into the new school year and I already feel like a failure.

As the summer ended the feelings crept in as I hadn’t accomplished what I’d hoped to at the start. My list originally went something like this:

• Sand and paint the kitchen ceiling.
• Sand and paint the master bathroom ceiling.
• Clean and organize the garage.
• Clean and organize the garage storage room.
• Mend every last item that I haven’t mended in the last five years.
• Find a publisher for my completed manuscript, “The Invisible Calling: the Art of Getting Lost and Being Found.”
• Start my new manuscript I’ve laughingly titled, “The Introverts Guide to Surviving Motherhood.”
• Write 10 chapters on my speculative fiction manuscript, “Faith’s Rising.”
• Weed the entirety front flower beds. Weekly. No, bi-weekly.
• Keep the lawn mowed.

Oh, and:

• Continue potty training my three year old son.
• Take the four older kids to daily swim practice for eight weeks. Entertain the toddler during the practices.
• Take the kids and work the weekly 4-5 hour swim meets.
• Feed my five kids three meals a day. 
• And second breakfast. 
• And brunch. 
• And snacks. 
• And just before dinner: I’m-gonna-die-in-the-next-three-minutes-if-you-don’t-feed-me-right-now appetizers.
• Laundry for seven people. Don’t forget the laundry.

I didn't get much of anything done on that first list. Just the second. Only, I don’t know about you, but that second list comes a distant second to the first list in my self-concept of accomplishment. Like my summer wasn’t worth anything because I spent my days keeping five kids alive doing laundry and playing puzzles and pushing my son in the swing and watching my daughters ride their bikes and…

I’ve been watching some of the leaves start their yearly decent into death that yields our glorious fall colors. But I feel like that one tree whose leaves just turn a drab mustard, then brown, then crumble. My death of self that comprises motherhood doesn’t feel dressed in beauty. I feel weak. Maybe other moms managed to get more done.

More and more lately I’ve been realizing I have impossible standards for my own strength. As I mother I tell myself it isn’t good enough to take care of my kids, I need to do it all. And my “all” is rather large. If I don’t get that “all” done, I must be worth less than other moms.

At the end of the day when I’ve done nothing more than what was necessary in my mom-life I can feel hollowed out and empty. Drained and restless.

But maybe there is another way.

Maybe there is a way for my self-sacrifice to be that kind of beautiful I dream of, only, it starts in my own mind and my own perception.

What if in my own mind I called all the little things I do around the house lovely? What if I went to get out food for the kids to make their lunches and I saw powerful hands reaching out to feed the hungry? What if I called beautiful those moments when I found the courage to read that book One. More. Time?

What if I saw my own life as brave? ‘Cause frankly who else but the courageous signs up to parent? If I don’t feel brave and strong in the moment then that’s okay because bravery is different bravado. Courage is found in the acknowledgement of a seemingly insurmountable task and signing up anyway. I seem to feel courage is only found in the absence of weakness.

The beauty of my life needs to start in my mind. Strength to live my day-to-day needs to come with a mental redefinition of strength. God defines Joy as strength, why don’t I? God defines service as strength, why don’t I? God defines loving others as strength, why don’t I define my life by these standards?

It’s past time for me to change my mind. To renew it, and to let it soak in a different standard than the worlds manic race to an unreachable finish line.

My plan for the fall:

Live in the moments I can never get back. 

Take a walk with my son and watch his chubby fingers explore the world. 

Stop at every stick and rock and downed leaf to experience the joy of the now.

Re-evaluate my self-talk. 

Chose to affirm my worth as a God’s daughter.

If I can’t sit with my son at the family room table and write while he plays Legos, bring a clip board. If I can’t write my stories on clip board being interrupted every 20 seconds to admire my son’s creations, then to let go. And build the best darn Lego house for his ninja-storm-trooper-Spiderman thing.

And then maybe at Christmas, when my older kids are on break from school, I will feel like I got something great accomplished this fall. 

Do you have a positive or negative self-talk? How do you define your accomplishments?