Envy - n. A feeling of discontent or resentful longing caused by someone else's possessions, qualities or luck. v. desire to have a quality, possession or other attribute belonging to someone else: I envy her house, car, hair, personality, etc.
I have a disease. It effects me most days sometimes lasting for seconds, sometimes lasting for minutes and sometimes lasting for days. Its symptoms include: knots in my stomach, feelings of depression, and a strong desire for more.
When I log onto Facebook to see what is going on around the world, and I get to glimpse into the lives of those on my friend list. There are people on my list who have known me for years and some I have yet to meet in person. There are people on five continents and some who live in my hometown. There are people advanced degrees and some still in high school. There are mothers of many and some who long for the day they can announce their pregnancy.
Don't get me wrong. I love rejoicing with the news of a new pregnancy, new house, or new relationship. I experience sorrow when I see those I know experiencing a difficult time. I realize that Facebook is like a newsflash of what is happening to those I care about and because of that I haven't stopped using it despite my disease.
I become envious of cool and exciting new jobs. I become envious of big, new, beautifully decorated houses. I become envious and exotic vacations. I become envious of the adventures my missionary get friends experience. I am envious of those with 3,000 friends and counting. My vision goes green and I wonder what I could have done differently to get these things.
What would my life be like if I hadn't wasted my early twenties? What would life be like if my parents had encouraged me to find my own identity and guided me towards hobbies that developed my natural talents? What would life be like if I.........
My problem with facebook is that it not only leads me into a downward spiral of envy for things I do not really want, but it causes me to second guess some major life decisions. It can change my feelings of contentment into feelings of despair in one click.
What is the cure for this disease called facebook envy? It is reality. It is counting the blessing that I have. It is remembering that I usually only post positive experiences. It is knowing that all my facebook friends have no idea that I am exhausted because the toddler I posted pictures of has been up since 4:00 a.m. throwing a blood curling tantrum for cookies I don't have. It is knowing that the exciting new job my friend has would drive me mad. It is knowing that my missionary friends will have experiences I will only get to see in pictures, but I have a 24 hour Starbucks less than a mile from my house. It is realizing that others are experiencing the same feelings I am. Right now I am living the life I imagined in September 2002 while eating lunch at my computer during my first month of teaching. The only difference between fantasy and reality is that I am in Texas and not Boise. I am a stay at home mommy with a loving husband doing what I love; going to school. Suddenly, life seems pretty good.
Wednesday, June 26, 2013
Thursday, June 6, 2013
Cooking Lessons From Mammy
Tomorrow is my Mammy's birthday. I don't know why, but this year I feel especially connected to her. I want her to know how special she is to me and to all of my cousins. I always felt cherished by her even though she nothing different for me than she did for her other granddaughters. Mammy had four of them and I am pretty sure we would all say the same things about her.
Mammy was retired by the time I could remember and remember her I can. She always had time to teach me; she taught me to cook, sew, plant a garden. I have longed to be able to crochet beautiful afghans like the ones she made for all her children and a few great-grandchildren. Numerous times Mammy sat with me, a needle and a ball of yarn. She made it look so easy and my clumsy fingers just couldn't do it.
I would spend summers at her house and every day I helped her make lunch. My brothers, cousins and I would pull the wagon out to the garden and pick squash, zucchini, beans, cucumbers, peas, tomatoes, peppers, dig potatoes and at the end of summer we had watermelons and cantaloups. In the afternoons we would play dress up in her old cloths, shell peas while watching tv, and climb her big tree.
When I think of home, I think of her home. When I think of Thanksgiving and Christmas I think of helping her make the shopping list, baking pies, and making candy. When I think of a happy place I think of her farm. When I have a pickle, I think of the hot summer afternoons spent in the kitchen watching her over the pressure cooker.
A writing assignment I gave every year asked my students to explain their scariest moment. I always shared about the time I was six and a thunderstorm knocked the power out in the late evening while Mammy was trying to get all six of her grandchildren bathed. She had six grandchildren that summer and only the help of her husband. We roamed through the house, hand in hand, gathering mattresses and slept on the floor in the play room.
The summer I graduated college and accepted my first teaching job, Mammy's mind deteriorated with Alzheimer's. My schedule was flexible so I was fortunate enough to spend time with her. She told me things I had never heard before. She told be about being pregnant with my Aunt Janice. She told me about having a baby while her husband took a nap in the car. She told me how she had just moved and couldn't find her clothes. She told me I was a great cook who could make something from nothing I told her I had a good teacher.
For a long time thereafter she would call me sister, daughter, niece, and friend until she no longer spoke. I am not sure if she ever again knew exactly who I was, but I know she always knew I belonged to her and that was good enough for me.
The saddest day of my life was when I realized that she would never know my children. I grieved that thought for years, but by the time she passed I had come to terms with it. Oh me of little faith I was. I have faith that she is heaven and that she and my children will meet there someday.
Happy Birthday Mammy, my hero.
Mammy was retired by the time I could remember and remember her I can. She always had time to teach me; she taught me to cook, sew, plant a garden. I have longed to be able to crochet beautiful afghans like the ones she made for all her children and a few great-grandchildren. Numerous times Mammy sat with me, a needle and a ball of yarn. She made it look so easy and my clumsy fingers just couldn't do it.
I would spend summers at her house and every day I helped her make lunch. My brothers, cousins and I would pull the wagon out to the garden and pick squash, zucchini, beans, cucumbers, peas, tomatoes, peppers, dig potatoes and at the end of summer we had watermelons and cantaloups. In the afternoons we would play dress up in her old cloths, shell peas while watching tv, and climb her big tree.
When I think of home, I think of her home. When I think of Thanksgiving and Christmas I think of helping her make the shopping list, baking pies, and making candy. When I think of a happy place I think of her farm. When I have a pickle, I think of the hot summer afternoons spent in the kitchen watching her over the pressure cooker.
A writing assignment I gave every year asked my students to explain their scariest moment. I always shared about the time I was six and a thunderstorm knocked the power out in the late evening while Mammy was trying to get all six of her grandchildren bathed. She had six grandchildren that summer and only the help of her husband. We roamed through the house, hand in hand, gathering mattresses and slept on the floor in the play room.
The summer I graduated college and accepted my first teaching job, Mammy's mind deteriorated with Alzheimer's. My schedule was flexible so I was fortunate enough to spend time with her. She told me things I had never heard before. She told be about being pregnant with my Aunt Janice. She told me about having a baby while her husband took a nap in the car. She told me how she had just moved and couldn't find her clothes. She told me I was a great cook who could make something from nothing I told her I had a good teacher.
For a long time thereafter she would call me sister, daughter, niece, and friend until she no longer spoke. I am not sure if she ever again knew exactly who I was, but I know she always knew I belonged to her and that was good enough for me.
The saddest day of my life was when I realized that she would never know my children. I grieved that thought for years, but by the time she passed I had come to terms with it. Oh me of little faith I was. I have faith that she is heaven and that she and my children will meet there someday.
Happy Birthday Mammy, my hero.
Wednesday, June 5, 2013
Trying to be More Like Mary Than Martha
I will admit that I am sometimes jealous when I discover books with a title that I have considered for my imaginary book. Yes, I am an aspiring writer and completing a novel is on my bucket list. There is a book titled Having a Mary Heart in a Martha World. It is on my to read list as I am intrigued by the title.
I often find myself walking a fine line between busyness and fellowship. Mary and Martha were sisters who lived together. When Jesus came to visit them, Mary sat at his feet and listened to his stories while Martha served the others. Martha complained about this and Jesus sided with Mary. Luke 10:38-42
My perfectionistic tendencies are rooted in observations I made of women during my early years. By this, I mean women gossiping and picking apart one another (their friends) for any reason imaginable; weight, hair, clothes (or lack thereof), discipline techniques and how clean the house was.
Remembering the harshness of these words, I have always tried to appear perfect and keep a spotless house. In fact, that is how Josh described my apartment when he first met me. It was pretty simple to keep a spotless home with only one adult living there who was at work most of the time. When we got married, Josh would help me keep things in order.
Now, though, I stay at home with a toddler. Two people are always home. The record player in my head has, until recently, continued playing the soundtrack laid when I was young. Over the past few months I have worked on having a messier house. I do not dust weekly any longer. I do not pull the furniture away from the wall and vacuum twice a week. I do not dust the plant ledge in the kitchen monthly. These are things I have consciously not done and it is honestly driving me a little crazy.
However, I am overall more relaxed now because I do not need to constantly clean. I get to spend a few extra hours with my toddler making a mess we might or might not pick up, digging worms in the garden and filling his swimming pool with mud.
I often find myself walking a fine line between busyness and fellowship. Mary and Martha were sisters who lived together. When Jesus came to visit them, Mary sat at his feet and listened to his stories while Martha served the others. Martha complained about this and Jesus sided with Mary. Luke 10:38-42
My perfectionistic tendencies are rooted in observations I made of women during my early years. By this, I mean women gossiping and picking apart one another (their friends) for any reason imaginable; weight, hair, clothes (or lack thereof), discipline techniques and how clean the house was.
Remembering the harshness of these words, I have always tried to appear perfect and keep a spotless house. In fact, that is how Josh described my apartment when he first met me. It was pretty simple to keep a spotless home with only one adult living there who was at work most of the time. When we got married, Josh would help me keep things in order.
Now, though, I stay at home with a toddler. Two people are always home. The record player in my head has, until recently, continued playing the soundtrack laid when I was young. Over the past few months I have worked on having a messier house. I do not dust weekly any longer. I do not pull the furniture away from the wall and vacuum twice a week. I do not dust the plant ledge in the kitchen monthly. These are things I have consciously not done and it is honestly driving me a little crazy.
However, I am overall more relaxed now because I do not need to constantly clean. I get to spend a few extra hours with my toddler making a mess we might or might not pick up, digging worms in the garden and filling his swimming pool with mud.
Monday, June 3, 2013
You Had Me At.....The Story of How Josh and I Met
Isaiah 54:1-8
"Sing, O barren,
You who have not borne!
Break forth into singing, and cry aloud,
You who have not labored with child!
For more are the children of the desolate,
Than the children of the married woman," says the Lord.
"Enlarge the place of your tent,
And let them stretch out the curtains of your dwellings;
Do not spare; lengthen your cords,
And strengthen your stakes.
For you shall expand to the right and to the left,
And your descendants will inherit the nations,
And make the desolate cities inhabited.
Do not fear, for you will not be ashamed;
Neither be disgraced, for you will not be put to shame.
For you will forget the shame of your youth,
And will not remember the reproach of your widowhood anymore.
For you Maker is your husband,
The Lord of hosts is His name;
And your Redeemer is the Holy One of Israel;
He is called the God of the whole earth.
For the Lord has called you
Like a woman forsaken and grieved in spirit, like a youthful wife when you were refused,"
Says the Lord.
"For a mere moment I have forsaken you,
But with great mercies I will gather you.
With a little wrath I hid My face from you for a moment;
But with everlasting kindness I will have mercy on you,"
Says the Lord, your Redeemer.
A friend of mine gave me these verses in the fall of 2006. I wrote them out on notecards and stuck them on my fridge. Every day for two years I read over them.
In August 2008 I travel to Newcastle, England where I would spend the next several months teaching primary school. I had been officially divorced for exactly one year on the day I left. In that time I went on many dates with several different guys. It's not that these men weren't prince charming, they just weren't my prince charming.
I scribbled Isaiah 54 1:8 onto notecards and tacked them to a cork board in the kitchen of my English flat. I read over these notecards daily, but it as mainly out of habit. Living in England was one of my heart's desires so surely God would answer the other desires of my heart. What were the desires of my heart? What was I looking for in a life partner? So many things that I thought were important did not seem to be present in the guys I was attracting.
I pondered this on a drive from Glasgow to Newcastle one Sunday afternoon. I determined that I wanted a partner who was from the United States, preferably the South. Tennessee would be okay, though I wasn't sure why, but I most certainly wanted him to have family in Texas since that is where my family lived. On top of that, he must want to live overseas, somewhere, anywhere. The place was not what was important to me, just the desire to live outside the U.S.
A few weeks later I was riding a train from Aberdeen to Newcastle when I decided what most people would think obvious. Prior to this, I thought I would be fine with a partner who respected my faith and was okay with me attending church regularly. My parents did not attend church, read their Bibles or even pray in front of my brothers and me when we were little, so I thought one out of two parents demonstrating faith would be fine. I knew that it was unbiblical to be unequally yoked and that had led to the downfall of my previous marriage. Why was going to allow this to happen again and why would I bring my children up in a home divided on the spiritual front?
On top of that I had a real problem with porn. I did not like porn and had been labeled a prude in this category by many. I know myself, I know my struggles with body image and feeling attractive. Several men and women have tried to convince me that porn was completely acceptable. My stance had been that I was not going to tell anyone what to do, but that I would not participate in it. Only, my heart's desire was to have a spouse who viewed porn as I did; lusting after another and therefore adulterous. My list seem ominous. Finding a spouse who met this criteria seemed impossible.
On Tuesday afternoon of half-term break I prayed over this list. Then I did something I had not done in a very long time; I reread Isaiah 54:1-8 and meditated on it. I really meditated on it. I prayed that God would take my desire to be a wife and mother away or that a spouse would be provided who met this criteria. I began adding things to the list and in the end this is what I had:
1. Active Christian faith
2. From the south, Tennessee or Texas
3. Must have relatives in Texas
4. Opposed to porn
5. Divorced with no kids
6. Desire to live outside the U.S.
7. Does not own (or often use) a video game system
8. Appreciate made from scratch cooking
9. Must hate fast food
10. Must love good, no frills coffee
11. Must be knowledgeable or is willing to learn about wine
I decided that I was going to be single for the rest of my life! I traveled to the Lake District the next two days and was home for about one day before heading to the coast to spend the weekend in a house with new friends. During my traveling break I received an email through MySpace. There was a fella telling me that he clicked on my page and was impressed by the Bible verse I had on my homepage (2Corinthians 12:10). He said he was finishing up culinary school and would be moving to Boise in the spring. He asked for my recommendations on bakeries and coffee shops in the Boise area.
My response was a flat, "I am in England right now."
"That is so cool! Tell me about it," he typed back.
After my weekend away, I began thinking about this and wondered if maybe, just maybe he fit some of my criteria. I explored his MySpace page and discovered that he did meet several items on my list. We began using IM and with the time difference I would normally be making coffee while he was about to hit the hay. One morning this was our conversation:
Melanie: Hang on, my timer went off and I have to press my coffee.
Josh: You press your coffee?
Melanie: I drink French press coffee every morning. I don't even own a drip machine in the U.S.
Josh: I have 2 French presses! That is my favorite way to make coffee!
Despite all of our doubts, fears, ups and downs over the past few years, I love reminiscing about our meeting. In time I found that Josh met all the criteria on my list. I love to think that one day after giving the situation entirely to God, Josh and I were introduced. I was scared, nervous, fearful, and anxious about taking the plunge a second time, but knowing that God provided someone who was the desire of my heart calmed those negative emotions.
"Sing, O barren,
You who have not borne!
Break forth into singing, and cry aloud,
You who have not labored with child!
For more are the children of the desolate,
Than the children of the married woman," says the Lord.
"Enlarge the place of your tent,
And let them stretch out the curtains of your dwellings;
Do not spare; lengthen your cords,
And strengthen your stakes.
For you shall expand to the right and to the left,
And your descendants will inherit the nations,
And make the desolate cities inhabited.
Do not fear, for you will not be ashamed;
Neither be disgraced, for you will not be put to shame.
For you will forget the shame of your youth,
And will not remember the reproach of your widowhood anymore.
For you Maker is your husband,
The Lord of hosts is His name;
And your Redeemer is the Holy One of Israel;
He is called the God of the whole earth.
For the Lord has called you
Like a woman forsaken and grieved in spirit, like a youthful wife when you were refused,"
Says the Lord.
"For a mere moment I have forsaken you,
But with great mercies I will gather you.
With a little wrath I hid My face from you for a moment;
But with everlasting kindness I will have mercy on you,"
Says the Lord, your Redeemer.
A friend of mine gave me these verses in the fall of 2006. I wrote them out on notecards and stuck them on my fridge. Every day for two years I read over them.
In August 2008 I travel to Newcastle, England where I would spend the next several months teaching primary school. I had been officially divorced for exactly one year on the day I left. In that time I went on many dates with several different guys. It's not that these men weren't prince charming, they just weren't my prince charming.
I scribbled Isaiah 54 1:8 onto notecards and tacked them to a cork board in the kitchen of my English flat. I read over these notecards daily, but it as mainly out of habit. Living in England was one of my heart's desires so surely God would answer the other desires of my heart. What were the desires of my heart? What was I looking for in a life partner? So many things that I thought were important did not seem to be present in the guys I was attracting.
I pondered this on a drive from Glasgow to Newcastle one Sunday afternoon. I determined that I wanted a partner who was from the United States, preferably the South. Tennessee would be okay, though I wasn't sure why, but I most certainly wanted him to have family in Texas since that is where my family lived. On top of that, he must want to live overseas, somewhere, anywhere. The place was not what was important to me, just the desire to live outside the U.S.
A few weeks later I was riding a train from Aberdeen to Newcastle when I decided what most people would think obvious. Prior to this, I thought I would be fine with a partner who respected my faith and was okay with me attending church regularly. My parents did not attend church, read their Bibles or even pray in front of my brothers and me when we were little, so I thought one out of two parents demonstrating faith would be fine. I knew that it was unbiblical to be unequally yoked and that had led to the downfall of my previous marriage. Why was going to allow this to happen again and why would I bring my children up in a home divided on the spiritual front?
On top of that I had a real problem with porn. I did not like porn and had been labeled a prude in this category by many. I know myself, I know my struggles with body image and feeling attractive. Several men and women have tried to convince me that porn was completely acceptable. My stance had been that I was not going to tell anyone what to do, but that I would not participate in it. Only, my heart's desire was to have a spouse who viewed porn as I did; lusting after another and therefore adulterous. My list seem ominous. Finding a spouse who met this criteria seemed impossible.
On Tuesday afternoon of half-term break I prayed over this list. Then I did something I had not done in a very long time; I reread Isaiah 54:1-8 and meditated on it. I really meditated on it. I prayed that God would take my desire to be a wife and mother away or that a spouse would be provided who met this criteria. I began adding things to the list and in the end this is what I had:
1. Active Christian faith
2. From the south, Tennessee or Texas
3. Must have relatives in Texas
4. Opposed to porn
5. Divorced with no kids
6. Desire to live outside the U.S.
7. Does not own (or often use) a video game system
8. Appreciate made from scratch cooking
9. Must hate fast food
10. Must love good, no frills coffee
11. Must be knowledgeable or is willing to learn about wine
I decided that I was going to be single for the rest of my life! I traveled to the Lake District the next two days and was home for about one day before heading to the coast to spend the weekend in a house with new friends. During my traveling break I received an email through MySpace. There was a fella telling me that he clicked on my page and was impressed by the Bible verse I had on my homepage (2Corinthians 12:10). He said he was finishing up culinary school and would be moving to Boise in the spring. He asked for my recommendations on bakeries and coffee shops in the Boise area.
My response was a flat, "I am in England right now."
"That is so cool! Tell me about it," he typed back.
After my weekend away, I began thinking about this and wondered if maybe, just maybe he fit some of my criteria. I explored his MySpace page and discovered that he did meet several items on my list. We began using IM and with the time difference I would normally be making coffee while he was about to hit the hay. One morning this was our conversation:
Melanie: Hang on, my timer went off and I have to press my coffee.
Josh: You press your coffee?
Melanie: I drink French press coffee every morning. I don't even own a drip machine in the U.S.
Josh: I have 2 French presses! That is my favorite way to make coffee!
Despite all of our doubts, fears, ups and downs over the past few years, I love reminiscing about our meeting. In time I found that Josh met all the criteria on my list. I love to think that one day after giving the situation entirely to God, Josh and I were introduced. I was scared, nervous, fearful, and anxious about taking the plunge a second time, but knowing that God provided someone who was the desire of my heart calmed those negative emotions.
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