So What's Going On?

Nothing. That's what's going on. Absolutely freakin nothing. I have been avoiding this blog - or at least writing much meaningful in it, because I don't have much light in the front of my mind.

I am a little ridiculous, but just hear me out. I feel purposeless these days. I have nothing that I "do." I know intellectually that "doing" something professionally does not make or break a person's worth. I can find the silver lining in every one else's cloud. Except mine. I seem to have a large black hole hovering over my head where all my silver lining goes. I am ridiculous.

I've been progressively making little self-discoveries about myself. Most of it has not been pleasant... like looking in a mirror and realizing that half your teeth are missing because you never flossed. Or something like that. And I do hardly floss- but luckily I have good teeth and gums to withstand the neglect. I brush often... My point is this: I have been given way too much interrupted time. Time enough to find the nasty stuff, but no time to find the silver, no time to look for the rainbow much less a pot of gold. So I keep interrupting myself with horrible self-image statements that are in isolation- true, but in the big gigantic scheme of things- not the end of the world. But my world is troubled.

Here are some of those self-discoveries: I am not content to be a stay-at-home-Mom indefinitely. This should not seem bad or drastic, but when coupled with the reality that I have no real alternative at least for another year- it makes me feel a little desperate and stuck. I also mix in to this discovery a nice pinch (make it a full cup and a half) of guilt for not appreciating the luxury (I get that it can be) and delight that comes with being a stay-at-home-mom. I got up one morning and realized I had absolutely nothing to look forward to that day. Now that sounds a little fatalistic, but what I understood in my soul was that I had no plan, nothing different other than live- help Hunter live, and try to enjoy it. It still sounds bad- but I had no purpose. Helping Hunter through the day didn't fill my void. Growing baby number 2 did not fill the void. Cooking dinner and failing at cleaning the house were not tasks I saw with purpose. I felt like it was another day, doing whatever.

This was not a moment of regret but rather a moment of recognition. I saw that I needed something. That need has filled me with guilt and anxiety because I don't know how to fill it in the near-future, and I wish that I wasn't going to be pissy about that. But I am. I already am. I am being impatient. I feel like I have been waiting all my life to have purpose. I get dangling opportunities, dangling promises, dangling ego strokes, but ultimately I don't close a deal.

I went to college, changed my major to philosophy and religious studies (yea- not the greatest career move)- but I was happy. I found my people. I found my niche. I loved my classes- I actually got into little competitions to see who could get the best grades. I did well- and this felt magnificent after failing and not caring about Chemistry and Calculus. What kills me is I could have done well in those classes- I just didn't care enough to do it. Slacker.

I went to seminary, a choice completely mine, completely revolutionary and completely God-lead. It was one of the best things I ever did- a fantastic place, a fantastic group of friends and classes I wish I could take again since I feel like I didn't pay enough attention the first time around. I didn't have all sunshine and daisies during seminary- there were bumps in the road- but I was in the right place, on the right track.

I got married to the best man in the world (no bias- it's just true). I got a part time job at his church as a youth director because seminary was too short and I hadn't quite figured out my track (or my denomination for that matter). Thus begins the search for purpose. My search seems to be starred with failures. I resigned from the youth job because it turned out I wasn't all that great at it, and it was more painful to stay on and do a shitty job than it was to pretend like everyone stroking my ego was right. The church had an opening for a part time job as a Coordinator of Congregational Care. This was something that actually suited me- but after two years, some unsaid drama and factors in my personal life- it was time to step back and take care of Hunter and my Grandmother. This was a great blessing for me, but extremely difficult at times. The hardest times throughout the two years I was a combination SAHM and caregiver to my Grandmother were actually the most rewarding times. Though it took therapy to get through to the other side (literally). I endured some very stressful and dark moments when Memaush died and Grandmother went to the hospital and rehab, and even when I was playing a large role in orchestrating Grandmother's move to Florida. Grandmother might be the only "job" I had that feels like it wasn't a failure. I had purpose.

I promised childcare to one family and then backed out when the timing wasn't right, I did childcare for another family and now I'm done with that- because a 2 year old, an infant and a pregnancy seemed a little much. Plus I was miserable - felt purposeless again.

I started looking for jobs in the worse economy since the depression (I don't know that for a fact- but it's close enough to reality)... and was still naive enough to be disappointed when nothing seemed to open up. I gave up. I picked substitute teaching because it seemed like a sure-fire way to get income, have flexibility and be able to be home with baby number 2 as long as I need to. Now that we are tight financially and I am sitting around at home waiting for the school system to call me for their next training, I'm wondering what the hell I'm doing with my life.

I got into the whole chaplain kick- started looking at churches to be (eventually) ordained, started looking into CPE (internships)- of which there is only one in Northern Virginia. I basically missed the boat for the most ideal internship before baby #2 is born. This puts me back about a year. When you keep in mind I've been searching for about 10 years- it seems like another brick wall.

Here's where I am in all this: deeply frustrated. I can't seem to catch a break. Not that I "deserve" a break- but rather I just want one. I am not destitute, I am not being yelled at by anyone for not living up to expectations- this is all internal. And I am about to combust.

I grew up smart. I was in gifted classes, told how awesome I was for achieving at the level I did "despite" my hearing impairedment. I had surgeries in 10th grade and the summer between my freshman and sophomore years of college. Again- I was so "smart" and capable that none of that set me back. I graduated a semester early from undergrad- worked full time for 3 months (my only venture in the full-time world) and lived at home while working a part time job until fall came and back to school I went. People congratulated and blessed me the whole way to seminary. Thinking back- even one of my earliest church memories was of a young couple who volunteered with the youth group who told me I had amazing potential. In seminary I did well. I was praised for my deep thoughts, my complex hold of theology, my ability to reason and wonder and my ability to minister. I was given no opportunity to preach at my home church, no indication that they intended to ordain me, and no welcome mat for my educated services. I soon learned that as progressive as some Baptist churches were- the denomination as a whole had a long way to go in their acceptance of women in the pulpit. So I decided I didn't need to be a trail-blazer, I just wanted to be a minister- what my calling asked of me. SO I looked at other churches.

Then I graduated (a semester early from seminary too), got married, you heard about those jobs. I was given the opportunity to preach, teach, and plan some worship. I was praised for all of it. Told by someone who does not stick his neck out to compliment that I "had the gift of preaching and with that gift came responsibilities." Yet, somehow I felt like a failure in each job I did. I watched friends of mine excel in everything or something. Co-classmates from seminary who were published, ministers, mothers and probably even had a clean house. I watched as female friends started having families and learning what to do with those new responsibilities. Some remained in the work world- balancing their lives as gracefully as a ballerina. Some chose to stay at home and blossomed with crafts and more children and clean homes. Some went (and still go through) major trauma and even in the most weird and selfish way- I envy their sense of purpose and fight. I don't belittle their struggle, but I am in awe of them- and feel still more useless.

Then there's me. Full of potential. With nothing to do. Don't cut it as a stay at home mom, certainly not cutting it as a chef or maid. Hardly manage to chaffeur. I volunteer at the church but not amazingly so. I just sit around and complain and worry and fester. I'm driving myself crazy.

And this is the longest post ever. But that's what's in my head. I *know* all the reasons it shouldn't be- and I frankly don't want to hear them from anyone while I'm in this crabby moment in my journey. God alone can save me from myself. I know God will. In the meantime- this is me, raw and simple.