Hero (five-minute Friday)

My dad was my hero, until that day when he said no.  He said "No, you can't live with me, you should live with your mother".  That was the end.  The beginning of the end of our relationship.

I see it a little different now.  I realise that his heart was broken too.  None of it was how it was supposed to be.

My brothers, I used to look up to them too.  Until that day when they left me out.  They rewrote our childhood as if I wasn't there.  Invisible + scapegoat = runaway.

So here I am, on the other side of the planet.  With one super-hero saviour in my life, and I know this is the right choice.  HE is the only hero I need.  HE is the overcomer.  HE is the redeemer.  HE is THE ONE.

{Soul Rest} - I'm falling, catch me Jesus.

I couldn't pinpoint it...why I was falling.
I tried to distract myself with grand ideas.
That used to work, when I believed they could come true.
And that's when I realised what was wrong.
I'd prayed all last year for one thing.
And then, wonderfully, He made it happen.
But I thought, that's it.  There won't be anymore yeses after such a big one.
There won't be more for me.
Because...why?

I don't deserve it?
But that's always true.
He is a gracious God.
He is a generous God.
He loves to give good gifts to His children.  Isn't that what the scripture says?
So will 2014 be bereft of anything good?
Unlikely, but still I struggled to believe.
And I was exhausted.

He carried me through the weekend.
And then today, suddenly, there is Hope.
After grief and despair.
I want to follow His footsteps.
I want to see them clearly.
I worry that I'll hesitate and then they will disappear from sight.

But Jesus didn't let Peter drown.
When he walked on the water.

"Immediately Jesus reached out his hand and caught him" (Matthew 14.31)

I want to hold your hand, Jesus.
I want to be reassured that you are there.
I want to look on your face and know I am loved.
I want to have faith.

Five minute Friday - encouragement

Encouragement is what I so desperately need and what has always been missing.  As I've given it to my children, they have turned around and given it back to me.  We will ask Jesus and we will keep trying.  We fail.  But even in the last few days, he's started turning it around, the child that struggles with control, his progress is encouraging me.  We're not a lost cause; kindness can appear like a rainbow in the sky when we didn't expect it.  I've always had the urge to encourage others, I can feel the crumbs of their hope, and long with them that they could grow into more.  But right now, I don't know what to do with my own crumbs, they don't make sense to me anymore - old dreams, current reality, the habit of disappointment combine to make my life muddy.  A mustard seed.  That's all I need.  That's what he said.  So I rest on that.

Going back - an ode to hospitality

Princess Morag had the privilege of returning to the old realm to visit over Christmas and New Year.  She was able to rekindle friendships in person that have been kept alive in the intervening time through the power of phones and internet.  She was so happy to know that her joy at going home was shared by those who she most longed to see.




Her kitchen held the past and the present.  The kettle boiling, like always, but now it was a little girl watching us as we waited while the boys, who had grown, ran around, and wrestled.  There was a welcome, and as we chatted there was a silent hum of the things that didn't need said, but could be felt, between us.  We had shared defining moments of our lives, we have been witnesses to each other.

Crossing the threshold after knocking and not waiting very long.  I knew I was safe to just enter.  I was welcome here.  My past life was staring at me from every direction.  Baby boy clothing on their son I hadn't yet met that took me back six years in an instant.  Jigsaw puzzles, toys and even the couch my pregnant self had slept on and had been the centre of my living room.

A new home: bigger, better, I knew how long she'd waited and was glad for her.  Easily slipping into conversation, we returned to our usual straight-talking style.  Truth-tellers who like to laugh, that's us.  We are survivors and strivers.

A glass of water in my hand, the same cheeky smile and red hair staring at me, so watchful and alert but taller and missing teeth.  A small space, but familiar and warmed by the affection that was always reserved for me there.  I was sorry there was so little time.

Friends, hospitality, belonging, as if no time had passed when really it had been more than two years.  I was glad to be there.  I was beloved.

The little girl in me

The little princess was cute, and she knew it.  And she remembers when that particular currency lost it's value (around age 4).  The new currency was 'being good': doing as she was told, being 'clever' at school and helping at home.  But the new currency wasn't about who she was, it was about what she could do.

She remembers discovering her parents' tape collection and playing ABBA on the stereo and dancing with complete abandon.  Until she realised her dad was watching and despite his pleas for her to continue, she was too self-conscious.

The little girl had also loved to sing, and remembers performing her shy rendition of 'Little donkey' one Christmastime for adult acquaintances.  When she was a little older, she discovered that apparently her parents no longer rated her voice as very good, a brother was touted as being the better singer.  Looking back, the comparison was completely unnecessary, but the temptation to categorise seems to have been too great for them to resist.

The little girl was astute, she picked up on what was said, and what was implied.  She molded and camouflaged herself into the position allotted to her.  She desperately wanted approval.  Unfortunately approval meant silence; a no news is good news kind of a deal.

Now, Princess Morag has a little princess of her own who loves to dance and sing.  What a joy!  What a wonderful thing to celebrate and share.  The princess is rediscovering through her daughter, how delightful little girls are.  She knows this is the truth, yet there is a commentary tape that plays in her head, with barbed and snide comments, that threatens to taint those precious mother-daughter moments.   But the princess is determined to escape from the lies that have infiltrated her consciousness.  She proclaims that those automatic thoughts deserve automatic extinction.  She declares that the attitudes that stink be replaced with gracious incense.  The princess may have been small but she was NOT like the fragile Christmas ornaments or a snowflake so easily melted.  She was, and is, like a little candle burning in the night.  She might be hiding inside her grown-up body, but she has power and perseverance.  Keep her shining Lord.

permission to...let the tears fall

The princess has never cried so much as she did in that counseling room.  At times, she felt outside of herself looking on at this woman who was a weeping mess, and she thought "wow, what a fuss!"  Tears had always been greeted by her family as a sign of her being 'too much'.  But there, in that room, in the presence of an empathetic soul, she could finally shed so many tears that she'd kept inside for so many years.  And they weren't 'too much', they were 'just right' even if her counselor did gently wonder at how many tears there could be!  They were the silent expression of pain and grief and longing.  And when met with tenderness, they were the most healing relief.

The princess used to laugh when she cried - it was a learned response from example and reaction.  It was a cover.  She has learned not to do that anymore.  She also wants to analyse her tears, and find out why on earth she is doing this strange thing called crying.  But sometimes it doesn't make sense, other than the fact that she is full of emotion, and it has to get out somehow.  At the beginning of advent it seems like tears are coming easily.  Having tried the analytical route and come up with a few ideas but no real answer, the princess is instead going to give herself permission for it just to happen.  The tears aren't for anyone, she is usually alone when it happens, they simply are.

It seems that many different things bring the tears, and not just sad things, but things of beauty, tenderness, innocence, longing, music.  The princess is no longer rock-like, for others to lean on.  She is more tree-like; she is still dependable but she can move, and swaying in the wind of life, she is allowing her tears to fall as the leaves do in the autumn season.

Fly - five minute Friday

In less than a month I will be flying home.  It has been more than two years.  Excited doesn't completely cover it.  In this season of Thanksgiving I am very glad I get to fly instead of travel by road or rail across a continent before sailing a large ocean.  I'm hoping we don't get sick.  I'm hoping being cooped up in a small space with a five and a six year old doesn't test the sanity of me, my husband or the other passengers too much!

Scheduled air travel will be turning 100 years old on January 1st.  I'm dismayed that ticket prices have risen so much in the last 10 years.  I am thankful for the Christmas gift of these plane tickets - they are absolutely priceless.  I will be flying home to cuddle my baby nieces.  I will be flying home for Christmas.  I will be flying home to be reunited with my family and friends.  I will be flying home to discover how much I've changed and what has stayed the same.  I will be flying home in the knowledge that God is with me whichever continent I am on.

Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving still feels like a new holiday to the Princess.  In the old realm, Sir Rianus would cook up a turkey dinner and it was fun - but as there was no collective celebration in the culture, it didn't seem like a particularly special occasion.  In the new realm, this is not the case.  'Holidays' seem to be a big deal and must be followed.  Unfortunately, it is difficult to create a tradition within the new realm when splitting time between two splintered halves of a family across the years.  Coming so late in the year, the Princess finds it difficult to identify Thanksgiving as a harvest meal.   The pilgrims arriving in a new country - yeah she understands that part! And the giving thanks - that is becoming an essential habit of her daily life.  She is happy to join together with others to praise God for his goodness.

5 minute Friday - tree

She and the tree were the constants through three seasons.  Under it's branches I nervously waited for the door to open.  Desperately wanting to be there, but part of me ready to run.  The leaves and the tears fell.  It looked empty and I despaired during the dark days.  When spring came with the blossom, there was warmth and some hope bursting forth.  But fear and anger would sweep in sometimes like the wind and the rain.

Basking in the sun, bright green leaves on the tree, the news came that brought the end.  I'm sure the tree is still there bearing witness to more lost souls knocking on the door.  Where is she?  I don't know.  But I miss her.

"be yourself"

"be yourself".  It's a common maxim.  However, the Princess's first reaction was to feel angry and frustrated which leads her to suspect it might be more accurately described as a simplistic platitude.

For which self should she be?

Should she be her best self: full of optimism and wisdom and faith?  This is the self she normally brings to the blogging world.  But what of the other selves that she has?  Her worst self is full of self-loathing, self-neglect and wallowing in self-pity - she doubts that many people want to see that self.  Having been relatively disengaged from community life in the last couple of years, Princess Morag has become far more acquainted with that worst-self, and led her to the conclusion that she can't even trust herself anymore.

Looking back, she can see how she developed a false-self while growing up.  There were seeds of her true self there, but they were connected by a web of confusion.  When she expressed negative feelings, they were corrected for her and renamed as less offensive conditions such as "tiredness", or "grumpiness".  Anger and frustration were not allowed and tears were "being silly".  Being highly sensitive she quickly learned to cover up those emotions and hide her own feelings behind concern for others.

When she tried to voice her interests they were quickly dismissed and she had to make do with the activities that had been prescribed for her.  Despite successful surgery, she remained "the sick one", "the one to worry about".  At the same time, she was to be the listener, the soother, the helper.  She was good at those roles, and still is, but fulfilling a role is not the same as being yourself.  In 'helper mode' the princess is charming, and flexible, capable, easy to be around.  Slipping into character comes naturally, but at a price.  Her real self is forced into retreat and observes this 'other person' that she has become and feels small, squelched and helpless.  For the princess at heart is still a child, maybe even a baby.  But babies can't look after other people, run the show, and make sure everyone else is ok in order to be deemed acceptable.

Even in friendships it was difficult to bring out the real self.  When Princess Morag was at school, she would watch as other girls somehow knew how to have fun, and wondered why she didn't know how to do that.  She sadly accepted that being the serious, sensible one was her lot.  In later teenage years, she observed her best friend taking advantage of a freedom she had that the princess would not attain for a long, long time.  Not only was the princess trapped within a family environment that did not allow her to rebel, she was emotionally regressed by her parents divorce and did not have any desire to do teenagery things.

College allowed the real self to be born through freedom of choice and real friendships.  Unfortunately, she was not matured by graduation and the real world outside of the protective college bubble blew in a cloud of depression and storm of anxiety to plague the following years and the real self was buried once again.

The neglected real self has been trying to get attention for quite some time, often using dirty tactics after so many years of being ignored.  The real self loves music and dancing and singing.  The real self is able to be happy, but also has a lot of grief.  She cried for hours in counseling, without any words really to explain why.  She is determined.  She is intelligent.  She keeps looking for a safe place to come out.

The real self want to know who she belongs to, where does she fit in to life here on earth in the body of Princess Morag?  Recently, the real self has been reverberating during bible study, as Princess Morag discovered that in the eyes of God she is a precious child, indeed she is a princess, and she is a bride not just in the eyes of Sir Rianus in the year 2005AD.  To revel in those roles as her real self, not just as a momentary private fantasy is a challenge, but one that brings a smile to Princess Morag's face and a stirring of dignity in her soul.  The false self is always anxiously searching the faces of those around to check she is performing adequately; she is never satisfied because she is never perfect.  The princess wants to be the self that is loved to the marrow of her bones, deemed beautiful in the eyes of the only one that matters, beheld and beloved for all of her heart, body, mind and soul.  She wants to don the cloak of grace, the gorgeous tiara that was exchanged for the ashes of her previous existence and enter into the kingdom of real life.

  

Five minute Friday - Laundry

The laundry is like a Dr Seuss book - it's here, it's there, it's everywhere!  Clean, dirty, not quite sure.  Big socks, little socks, always odd socks.  No washing machine in the apartment.  Quarters and effort required.  But thankful for the brilliant sunshine and zero humidity, great drying conditions.

Unlike in the baby years when all those tiny baby clothes were hung on indoor racks and I was 'helped' in my task by little hands and a dehumidifier stopped our house growing so much mold and the windows steaming up!

The giant clothes I don't have to worry about, he does those himself.  But I like to pair his socks and put them away for him, it's just a little thing, a way to be a wife.  I sigh over his inability to ensure the dirty socks make it into the laundry basket, but it's just a little thing, common to most men I'm sure.

I am from the land of green grass...

I am from the land of green grass, and rain and eating lots of potatoes,
From hanging the washing outside in hope, watching the clouds.

I am from the middle of the family, sandwiched between boys.
I am from the posh school, the local school and the oldest university.

I am from the children's hospital, scarred but made well,
I am from the hairdressers, long hair, now bobbed.

I am from the broken home, the truth made known,
and behind it confusion and lies?

I am from my new family, two children of my own, scarred again.
I am from a spark of new life, covered in darkness and crying out to God.

I am from the old realm, living in the new, wondering where is the green?
Scorching sun, blue skies and rarely a cloud, mountains that are rocky or covered in snow.

I am from a place of self-sufficiency searching for the one who can help.
I am from loneliness and feeling forever unknown.

I am from friends left behind, sisters in spirit and love.
I am from grief over relationships that have died and memories that hurt.

I am from that land of pomp and circumstance,
Of two flags of allegiance, and the poet well-known.

Where there are castles and cathedrals of ancient stone,
A long history of people with grudges they have borne.

Where religion matters but hearts are not considered
Where prejudice is passed on along with ignorance.

The land where alcohol is the answer and drugs the solution.
The land I wanted to leave behind and the one I miss terribly.

A synchroblog from Shelovesmagazine.

birth story haiku

Inspired by Jennifer Fulwiler

Baby #1
planned caesarean
too much morphine, I’m woozy
then breastfeeding hell

Baby #2
baby 1 got sick
c-section on not much sleep
gorgeous baby girl

feet

Princess Morag has a love/hate relationship with her feet.  She loves one and hates the other.  The right foot, despite it's small size is pretty normal looking and that's good as far as Princess Morag is concerned.  The left foot, well, that's a whole other story.  The princess noted, as a teenager, that he feet and ankles would swell if she had to stand for a long time.  It didn't cause much trouble, but she was diagnosed with primary lymphoedema and warned against any kind of trauma to her foot, or it might lead to permanent scarring/swelling.

Then Princess Morag went to work at summer camp in the USA and a mosquito, or some other bug, decided to feast on the top of her left foot.  The Princess didn't know anything was wrong until suddenly it was bruised and swollen and red, and she went to the hospital to be told it was an infected bite and she had to rest it. Following this infection, her left foot would swell to a greater extent than her right, so it became her "bad foot".  It has caused people to stare, exclaim and point out it's size, much to the princesses displeasure.  She is not keen on drawing attention to herself, so this kind of negative attention is particularly unwelcome.

For the last five years, or maybe more, Princess Morag has endured the private shame of knowing that the already 'bad' foot, was embarrassingly also home to plantar warts/verrucae on it's sole.  It was quite easy to just pretend they weren't there, until more recently when they spread.  Princess Morag procrastinated for a long time in making the appointment with the podiatrist.  And then he said he might have to cut them out!!  Princess Morag did NOT like that idea.  She spent the summer trying to find some courage, and finally made the appointment.  They had become a little painful, so getting rid of them now seemed like a good idea.  Thankfully (maybe) the podiatrist decided to try acid treatment first.  But now her left foot is a gross, painful extremity and Princess Morag is unable to perform all her activities of daily living with ease.  Standing on two feet is something most of us just do without thinking, ditto for walking.  But when it becomes painful and difficult, you realise how much you have been taking for granted.

Princess Morag wants to say sorry to her left foot, for saying it was 'bad' and for calling it 'fat and ugly'.  Because all this time, it has still been performing pretty well, allowing her to stand and walk with ease.  She hopes it will make a full recovery.

It's like potatoes

Princess Morag has entirely changed her view on rain.  The old realm was a rainy, grey place, and she agreed with the general consensus that more sunny days and blue skies would be nice.  But since living in the new realm where sunny days and blue skies are the norm, she now holds the view that rain is awesome!  Rain, in fact, indicates God's blessing.  And when you live without it, you start to feel a little desperate.  There have been days where the princess has woken up to grey clouds and gone about her day very happy as a result.  And the next day, when inevitably the blue sky is back, she actually feels disappointed!  And on the handful of occasions that it has rained, she might have rushed outside in excitement, called her children out, and danced with them in the rain!

The earth needs rain, and when there isn't any, man manufactures a replacement a.k.a 'sprinklers'.  So then you can grow plants and have green grass, but the areas that the sprinklers don't reach remain brown and dead looking.  Anything that is manufactured to mimic God's blessing doesn't quite make the mark.  It might satisfy for a while, or give the appearance of something that is good.  But it's not good like the real thing.
When the princess sees photographs or film of the old realm, she gushes about how green it is, in much the same way as she used to mock people of the new realm doing.  But now she understands, now that she lives in the desert.  The old realm has the real rain and you can tell by the lush green grass and trees, and dark brown earth and grey skies.  The whole palette of the natural world there is different. And the princess misses it.

When she was growing up, Princess Morag ate a lot of potatoes.  They were standard dinnertime fare, almost every night.  When she left home to go to university she chose not to eat potatoes very often as she was sick of them.  Pasta and rice, these were much better she thought.  Until a decade later when she pregnant with her second child and suddenly potatoes were awesome again - she had been missing out, all these years of not bothering with potatoes very much because they had been under the curse of the familiar.  Don't discount those things that are commonplace.  Be grateful for them.  If you didn't have them, you might miss them very much.  You might be avoiding a blessing when you scoff instead of embracing the everyday goodness.

A mother's lament

"What happened to my baby girl?"  Princess Morag asks.
She got these legs now, instead of stumps!
She answers back and shrieks at taunts.
She's starting school!!

Her brother will teach her what to do.
And she'll make her own way at the same time.
She'll make new friends, and write all her letters.
She'll play outside and walk to the lunchroom.

When she gets home Princes Morag will hear,
that she's done this and that, and what the other girl said.
All the things her brother doesn't bother to tell.
But at night she'll want to snuggle the same
And all tuggled together she'll be a baby for a moment again.

Give me a proper cup please!

One of Princess Morag's pet peeves is having to drink coffee from a disposable cup!  Even a travel mug turns out not to be a great substitute as it tends to be very plasticky.  Really the only thing coffee should be drunk from is a proper cup, made of china.  In the old realm, this is how coffee was generally served unless you specified that is was 'to go'.  Here in the new realm, this is not the case.  In some well known coffee establishments there are no proper cups in sight - aah!  

So Princess Morag tends just to make coffee at home, and now that she is selling direct trade, freshly ground, delivered to your door coffee, maybe recreating the coffee shop experience at home might just be the way to go.  Unfortunately it means she has to wash her own cup afterwards, but at least she will be treated like a grown up and allowed a proper cup!!!!

me too Glennon!

Princess Morag has several blog crushes.  The biggest of all is probably Glennon Melton.  The other day G posted/tedx-talked: All I ever needed to know I learned in the mental hospital.  And Princess Morag can testify to the same experience, except she worked at the mental hospital so there is slightly less stigma attached.  When she was supposedly an 'allied health professional', Princess Morag learned about these mysterious things called 'anxiety' and 'confidence' and most odd of all 'assertiveness'.  She also met people who were profoundly depressed and felt a disturbing connection to them.

Princess Morag learned a lot of things in school.  She was very good at school.  It was easy.  She knew what she was supposed to do, and she did it.  But at the same time she was pretty frustrated at learning a lot of stuff that she knew was never going to be useful in life - imaginary numbers??  Really?  Imaginary people in books, she liked them, but imaginary numbers seemed a little unnecessary!   So Princess Morag knew maths, chemistry, biology, geography but where was she supposed to have learned about these things called feelings and helping other people deal with theirs when she had only just discovered that she had them too!!

The Princess's feelings had been buried for a long time, apparently they were inconvenient to other people when she let them out, so she tried not to do that.  But she was like a magnet to other people's feelings, she could sense them, and people would talk to her about stuff that was going on with them.  Including, rather inappropriately, her parents while they were separating.  So psychology had been the subject she was desperate to study and the mental hospital her first choice of place to work and she probably couldn't explain exactly why, except she was curious and she wanted to help people. Turns out it is hard to help people when you've spent your life ignoring your self.  Those feelings that were buried start escaping and then the Princess found herself crying at the dinner table every night, with her new husband looking on, confused.

Thankfully there is this magic thing called counseling and the Princess's boss referred her to the hospital counselor and there Princess Morag was able to unburden herself of some tears and feelings in a place where it was ok to do so.  Princess Morag used to joke that her job at the mental hospital was mostly "taking crazy people to the park".  She then swapped that occupation for "taking her two children to the park" - it didn't feel much different.  And most recently of all she started "taking her crazy self to the park" - are you sensing a theme?  When the Princess was an Occupational Therapist, she knew her job was mostly common sense but it turns out that common sense really isn't very common at all.  And learning about anxiety and confidence and assertiveness, well, those things are all to do with being HUMAN, and giving people respect for being alive, and showing up, whether that is at the park or any other location.

Launch

At the beginning of the year, Princess Morag felt kind of expectant about 2013 (but not in the same way as she was at the beginning of 2007 and 2008!).  She felt as if God might have a plan for her this year, and she really wanted to know what it was but she seemed to still be in a season of waiting so she memorised the following verse

" I wait for the LORD, my whole being waits, and in his word I put my hope." Psalm 130:5.

Part of this new year process was also a consideration of what an appropriate word of the year might be.  The princess pondered, and then there was a whisper of a word: launch.  She did not know what this meant, and at first was a little scared because she thought of a rocket launching and that seemed a bit too violent and exciting for her life at this time!  Then she realised that there were other types of launches - like boat launches, which seemed gentler, and book launches which seemed altogether more her style!

Fast forward to the beginning of this month of May, and the Princess is getting tired of waiting and is discouraged in many ways.  She is encouraged by scripture to "laugh at the days to come" (Proverbs 31:25) and to trust that "God shall supply all [her] need" (Philippians 4.19) and then, at last she finds it.  The thing that will fit into her life and her personality and fulfills her hope in his word.

Princess Morag new official role is to bless.  How awesome is that?  And to encourage shopping?  Well, that shouldn't be too hard!  And she now has a role other than mother, which after five years full time feels GOOD.

Check out what the Princess is up to here.

Good vs real

The Princess read this article today and it got her thinking.  She has spent most of her life trying to be "good" - to please people, to make sure she is liked.  When she was at school, this was somewhat successful.  Her teachers consistently praised her work and seemed to like her.  But this kind of success backfires as it meant that her peers were not so keen on the 'teacher's pet'.  But here is a shout out to all the teachers out there during report-writing season - Princess Morag's almost sole source of self-esteem came from her school reports.  Thirteen years of reading "mature and conscientious" helped her to believe that maybe she did have those characteristics.  However, underneath that mature and conscientious nature Princess Morag really wanted to have fun (but didn't know how).  She was "good" but she wasn't real.  All this time she has been hiding, even from herself.