{from 19 April 2009, Sunday} 6 a.m. Sitting at the kitchen table with coffee, Bible, journal. Sleepy. Zeke slept from 10 to 4 last night! Woohoo. He’s getting the hang of things, I guess.
Wishing we didn’t have to be at church at 8 o’clock this morning. Actually kind of wishing we didn’t have to be anywhere at any specific time. Want to climb back in bed and stay hidden there for a week.
Good coffee. Joe bough some yum-great-smelling coffee beans at Soulard yesterday. For me. He doesn’t even drink coffee. Maybe doesn’t seem like a big deal, but when you’re living a tight budget and your spending cash is low, an expensive pound of coffee is a big deal. (And why should it cease to be a big deal when you have a big budget and lots of spending cash? I’m not sure.)
I love going to Soulard. We brought home a lot of yummy produce which we will be eating on this week. Crispy iceberg and romaine for salads, a load of cucumbers and sweet peppers, spicy-fresh cilantro, Asian pears (which I don’t really like but Joe loves), a whole crate of grapes and a whole crate of strawberries. We got a crate of strawberries for $5. I think that’s 6 or 8 quarts. That’s why it’s smart to hit the farmer’s market on Saturday afternoon, when they’re all getting ready to close and just need to get rid of what’s left. Hallelujah. I love strawberries.
I am getting really frustrated with my dependence on a single client for regular, paying work. I am equally frustrated with my seeming inability to find time to do any of that paying work. I am learning to let go. I want to let go, but I also want to avoid the trap of poor-me-complacency. I’ve never liked the culture’s standards on what a Mom could and should do. I’ve never really liked the church’s standards either. I think they all miss the mark somewhere, hitting the extremes: be a career woman! don’t lower yourself to domesticity! Or stay at home! forget anything but being a mother!
Um… where is the balance? Conflict, conflict, conflict. Conflicting views, philosophies, perspectives. Leads to real conflict of words, judgment, separation. People get confused. There are too many voices, even within a single circle. Go read a selection from the Christian book store on parenting. You’ll get ten different kinds of advice, all “biblically based.” Read a selection from the secular realm (i.e., the whole world beyond church walls; what is “secular” anyway?), and you’ll get ten more kinds of advice, all different, all based on reason, psychology, philosophy, sometimes common sense, sometimes cultural nothingness. Sometimes those ‘secular’ books make a lot more sense than the ‘Christian’ ones. Sometimes none of them make any sense at all.
Yet how hard it is to turn off all the voices, to be still, to quiet down, to sit and wait for a single, clear, true voice. Some say that guiding voice is from within, it’s our inner wisdom or psyche or goddess or whatchawanttocallit. I say it is divine and I say it is available to anyone. No, not just to church-goers. It’s difficult, though, to pick it out.
There’s a rush of voices, constantly. The first step is shutting them out, those voices of the culture, the church, the friends, the family, the books we read. Then there are the other voices: the memories, assumptions, offenses, traditions, self-defenses, habits, fears, hopes, illusions, ideals. Then there are the darker, subtle voices, whether from deviant spiritual beings whispering to us or from our own selfishness… they intrude, with suggestions that seem so good. Easy.
Then, past that, is a single voice. Clear, crystal, bell-like, but calm, quiet, still. More than intuition. More than instinct. Beyond culture. Beyond pulpit preaching or soap-box shouting. Beyond long-held traditions. Simple. Waiting for an invitation to speak.
Waiting for us to forget the conflict and listen.
Image courtesy of Tim Morgan.