California Roll

The Best GIft

Mothers Day is already upon us! Just last Sunday I realized that this coming Sunday was it. I had to cancel a ministry team meeting that we'd arranged for that day. Five people and a host had agreed to that meeting and all had forgotten that the first Sunday of May is Mother's Day.

This week commercial outlets have repeatedly reminded anyone else who might have forgotten. Restaurants offer brunches and stores suggest jewelry at reduced prices. In the adverts gift ideas abound, but for this special day I want something cheaper and more expensive.

I crave time and connection with my loved ones.

Just being in someone's presence doesn't ensure we will tune into each other's needs and emotions and communicate respect and care. And with our busy schedule and ambitious hopes to impact this world, we don't always do this. And there's other reasons besides busyness.

Just this week I realized that my pulling away emotionally from a close friend had happened not because of just time and scheduling issues but partly from some unconscious ones: hurt and feeling like when I had spoken my hurt to her she didn't care, didn't change.

That happens in families too. Collin and I have been working on that--on overcoming the tendency to just withdraw in hurt. I think of a mother and daughter pair I know where the young-adult daughter hardly ever emotionally engages with her mother. How much that hurts my dear friend. She'd rather have that emotional engagement than any gift a million dollar could buy.

So on Mother's Day my best gift would not be a gold and black earrings to match my lovely gold with black etched pendant from Japan, though I'd like that.

It's not a brunch with delicious food or seafood at the restaurant overlooking the ocean where Collin and I had our first date. Crowds will make those places full and slow on M-Day. I prefer something more restorative, more close to the needs of my heart.

On Saturday Collin and I will enjoy the predicted balmy weather by hiking amid the wildflowers at Henry Coe State Park. Walking together gives us plenty of opportunities to talk and link our hearts and minds.

On Sunday I'm hoping my 18 year old daughter Sheri will join forces with Collin and cook me one of my favorite meals, a dish that I usually requested for my birthday dinner in my growing up years: Swiss Steak, with potatoes.

Those will be my best gifts.

Moving Beyond Anxiety into Community

Yesterday our pastor, John Ortberg, preached a great sermon, "Life Beyond Anxiety." You can hear it on-line if you go to the link below. (Eventually, a written version will appear there.) Life beyond anxiety: http://data.mppc.org/sermon/mp3/090208_jortberg.mp3

Other sermons here:
http://www.mppcfamily.org/app/w_page.php?id=49&type=section

Grace and faith do not come easily to me; anxiety does, and I've often felt ashamed about being so anxious. So I much appreciated the pastor anticipating this kind of reaction in I and others.

Since John has a PhD in psychology, he often brings pertinent information from that realm. He told us that 15-20% babies have hearts that beat faster in new situations. In other words, they are born with a pre-disposition to anxiety and unhealthy levels of guilt and self-reproach.

That's me. And it's a relief to find out that it's not my fault!

He told us not to waste time feeling guilty about our worry, but to take worry as a cue--not for guilt, but to invite the Spirit to give us power, love and self-control. (II Timothy 1:7)

Last weekend at the women's retreat I wrestled with anxiety and guilt in regards to my roommate. I'd signed up to be with an unknown woman the San Mateo campus which I attend. I wanted to be with someone who I could later see at rather than friends who attend to the Menlo Park campus of my church.

When this young woman heard my age during our first conversation, she said, "You're as old as my mother."

Yikes! And it didn't help that she had nothing good to say about her mother.

When she didn't find me and sit with me at breakfast as I had offered, my thoughts went on a worry tour - revisiting all our conversation from the night before and possible "mistake" and "putting off" things I'd said.

Confessing my anxiety at a small prayer meeting and hearing their prayers and concern helped. They received my feelings - rather than telling me how to fix the problem or not to worry -- and that helps me get unstuck.

During the conference I received lots of smiles and hugs and conversations that gave me the gift of feeling cared for and connected. Yes, there were times when I felt again social stings: a woman not looking at me or talking to me but focusing on just her friend be my side. or my roommate standing me up for dinner.

But I spoke up about it, rather than just be quiet and withdraw and the feelings of rejection dissipated. I told my roommate that I was disappointed that she didn't come sit with me at dinner and that I had been thinking about her remark that I was as old as her mother and wondered if that was why she didn't want to hang around me. Her explanation was convincing: nauseated; had skipped dinner and gone to town to buy crackers.

With having spoken about some of my perceived slights, I came away feeling happy that I'd gone, even euphoric with the joy of deeply connecting to other women.

So many of the women I know say they wouldn't/couldn't go to a women's conference. I wonder if it's because they are the 15-20% of the population born naturally timid, prone to anxiety and self-reproach.

Our speaker urged us to become valiant woman. Yes, that's our call.

So next year when I'm inviting people to this retreat I want to keep in mind that many struggle with the same feelings I have - but are to ashamed to admit them. I will pray and aim to speak so as to give courage to step past those fears towards community.

The Screen Was Blank

Lately I've considered again the helpful role of consciously deciding to do without something we value, called "fasting" by ancients of old.

Yesterday I fasted from the computer. I just did so from 4 pm on and even for that short period the lure proved difficult to resist. At 8 when My husband had gone to pick up our daughter I was going through my schedule for the week. I thought I had to look at the e-mails and send one to get something figured out. It had to be done immediately. So I thought.

The screen was black. I tapped a key. No response. When Collin returned I told him that the computer had crashed again. It did that twice on Saturday and we fear what htat means. He said, "No. The monitor is just turned off. Remember, we're fasting."

"Oh, yes." Fasting means no excuse to get back on. He's right.

Once I am sitting there in front of the desk I invariably forget what I came for and start doing other stuff too and thirty minutes goes by without my noticing. Later I regret the book I didn't pick up and the hymn I didn't play on the piano. And so much of what drives me to the computer can wait, easily. By this morning I knew I didn't need to do what I thought was so necessary last night.

And this kind of fasting is so good for me. In the absence of computer and hubby, I enjoyed reflecting as I did some mending. I watched our DVD of Planet Earth and marvelled at the beauty under the ocean and thanked God for the many delights of the eyes.
Fasting this way if good for our marriage too. I'd asked Collin this morning if he'd be willing to do without the computer from a certain time on. When he said, "Yes," I asked him to set the time. At 4 pm he left his blog post, even though it was unfinished. I could tell it frustrated him, but he's a man faithful to his commitments.

So, our eyes are turned towards each other instead of the computer. We even decided to spontaneously go to bed early last night and enjoy the delights of each other.

Yes, computer fasting is good, for both of us.

Faitlure Is Still Progress

At a recent small group meeting I contested a decision being made because the group dynamics really disturbed me. Afterwards I felt embarrassed and ashamed about speaking out, especially regretful that I didn't express myself in a smooth, diplomatic way. My irritation was showing.

And, my reflex reaction to that is a fear, an irrational fear these friends will stop wanting to be around me.

Not true, but feelings have lingered since  the situation touched off some of my “hot buttons” - i.e. long standing core issues related to my experiences of as a young child. 

On a long car drive to retrieve my daughter from her boarding school, I pondered what I heard our speaker say about God's love at our Tuesday mother's group. She reminded us of how we've felt with our baby – how we enjoy just watching our little one learn to crawl, or eat baby food even though the gruel is dripping down the baby's chin.

We don't say to our babies, “Oh, how gross. You're doing it all wrong. Why can't you learn to eat right faster!”  No, we say, “Oh, how cute. Look, she's learning to eat!” We applaud the little progresses forward and accept, even overlook, the falls, the food on the nose and other mistakes as the baby is progressing these new developmental tasks.

I too am learning new skills.  I'm learning to not shrink back from powerful, charimatic personalities and to say what I want.  From my history of withdrawal when I'm hurt and angry, what I did last night was an important step forward. 

Yes, I wish I could have been more gentle and said it better, but I think God is applauding what I did do.

Mother's Day - Getting What You REALLY Want

    I've been a mother for nineteen years now.  What I wanted has changed on Mother's Day keep changing.  As my children grow and I adapt and grow too I want different things.  Sometimes I thought I wanted roses when I really wanted affirmation and connection. Sometimes I wnet to my mother's house to celebrate Mother's Day when what I really needed was an afternoon alone or at the movies.

I think we all need to look into our own hearts and see what we truly need - not what advertising images say we need - at this time and stage.  But in case you're too tired to know or lacking creativity, here are some ideas sorted by developmental stage of children (and us?), because we  can't ask if don't know what to ask for!   You're list may very well be different than mine.

For Mothers of Children who Want You All (or most) of the Time.

You know who you are.  Those who have to go to the bathroom to have a few minutes of peace.  Perhaps you don't want the flowers or negligee or a meal out. Perhaps you want time. Think BIG. An afternoon isn't enough. 

How about a whole day and night?  Or, perhaps you might like a gift certificate to go away to a city, or to a park for a couple of nights or to go hang out with a girlfriend in her home.  You're husband won't know you need this - really long for it - unless you ask.

A poet friend with an engaging and demanding three year old son took a delightful trip by herself.  She enjoyed the time with no obligations as she stayed alone in a hotel room, read a book at night and went to a museum by day, enjoyed the absence of dirty dishes, cries or demands.

Elementary School

This is a time when you can really have fun on Mother's Day and not put too big a burden on anyone. You might feel like I describe above (needing time alone) or more like in the tween stage -- wanting time to enjoy these delightful people.

Children often want - perhaps need - to give you something concrete.  Once in elementary school my girls made wonderful cards for me out of construction paper with glowing words about me (only true half the time), which I reread sometimes now to bolster up my sagging sometimes now that I'm a parent of discerning teens.  I've also received coupons from them to do various chores - like set the table or make me coffee. Wonderful gifts to ask for and receive.

For Mothers of Tweens

This can be a hard age.  They want you but they don't. One girlfriend's daughter was pre-menstrual constantly for six months because she had a period every two weeks.  Oh the angst and conflict in that house.  Maybe you need time away and could ask the blooming independent almost tween to take care of their dad. It's good for a kid to have responsibility to fix a meal while you're gone.

Or, maybe you want to treasure this time when they still need you. After all, the kid can't drive a car yet or go most places by her/himself.   So maybe you can think of an activity you'd like to do together.

One of my favorites was when my husband loaded up our bikes and we went to SF for a picnic on the beach (which my husband fixed), then bicycled up hill to the Palace of Fine Arts.  It's not every day that I can insist my kids accompany me to an art museum and they'll gladly do it. So I take full advantage of their desire to honor me! 

Your suppressed longing might be ice skating, or race cars, or listening to jazz or a concert together.  Anyways, recognize that their desire to please you and make time for you is probably stronger now than it will be four years hence - so enjoy it!

For Mothers of Teens

In the past I've asked for a day at home with no work to do and the right to ask them to bring me a drink or do a needed chore.  It's a treat to be in my home and not feel compelled to sweep when I see dirt or hairs on the floor. 

This year when my 17 and 19 year old asked what gift I wanted, I ask for a letter or card which said positive things about me.  This is a real and needed treat because now they see me so honestly, note my flaws and mention my positive traits much less often than before. 

Sometimes when I hear from them that they assume that I know how wise and strong they think I am.  Well, with the up and down emotions of a 50 year old whose mother has died and whose kids are leaving, I don't often see myself as wise, loving and strong. I need to hear it and keep hearing it. Is there anyone else out there like me?

I love what a girlfriend wrote to her children, two of which are teenage boys:

"Just a reminder - you know what I like - but I'm not even going to ask for cards.  I would appreciate some
hugs and kisses.  I'd like you to tell me what three things you've really enjoyed about being with me over the last year and what three things you would like me to change that make you upset or angry at times.  I have a wonderful husband and three marvelous human beings named . . ."

I'm saying a prayer for all you who read this!  Savor the wonderful things said about you tomorrow and try to remember them when you're again feeling like a failure and know it's not true.

I don't understand what s/he is not saying!

    On a friend in leadership at my church recently told me, "I've been meeting with a few Asian individuals to help them figure out how they'd like to be involved in the church.  When I look at their faces, I feel like I'm offending them, but I don't know how."
    Maybe she is, maybe she isn't.  She might just be puzzling to them or has asked the person to do something sh/e is not comfortable with (but doesn't feel comfortable saying so outloud). Other possible explanations come to mind also.  I married a second generation Korean American husband and lived six years in Japan with my kids attending Japanese schools, so I've had to deal with these communication differences.
    My church, formerly 98% all Anglo American, is attracting more Asian Americans and International people.  Communication styles vary between individuals, much more between cultures.  It does create growth potential as well as confusion.
    Impacts of the country of origin continue for six generations, despite being a part of the host country's schools and institutions, so says cross cultural studies.
    I'd like to hear your comments and experiences and in my next blog I'll tell you a tip about including immigrant children into an existing small group at church.

The Power of a Listening Husband

    I awakened on a bright clear Christmas morning with the nebulous sense of a dark cloud covering me, pushing down on my chest til I despaired.
    "I feel sad," I told my husband lying beside me.  He didn't ask, "Why?" or attempt to cheer me up.  He just remained silent.  So I went on to tell him of my anxieties about who I am and how I relate to people.  The irritation and criticisms  of my teenage girls felt the day before had started me down a slope and into a a cess pool of self-accusations.   He just listened.
    "I feel like there's a black hole inside me!"  I finally cried and he just held my hand.  I cried out to God, "God, please show your lovingkindness to me today. Please fill me with your Spirit and make me whole. Please help me to love those around me with your giving love, instead of needing affirmation from them."
    We prayed out loud together, including praising God, because essential part of this emotional and spiritual fight is praising God even when I'm feeling sad or alone. I read my Bible before anything else.
    Collin's act of just listening was powerful. It enabled me to talk my way through my sadness, to expose the dark thoughts to the light of his love and God's. 
    And I had a great Christmas day.  What creative and generous gifts my children gave me. The clear blue sky made our walk in a redwood forest on the way to Santa Cruz glorious. At SC we picked up a 25 year old Chinese grad student to whom I gave her a ride from SFO when she newly arrived. I enjoyed her presence with us yesterday. Her smile helped me remember that my kids' reactions to me is just their reaction. It's teenage stuff.
    All in all, it was a very good day

Friendship -- what it's not

    I've been thinking lately about communication in a growing friendship, remembering when I returned to life in the Bay Area after six years of living in Japan.  I thought I would easily step back into old friendships and develop new ones.  The difficulty of finding people to spend consistent time with surprised me.
    One woman I'll call Sally was particularly interested in hearing about my Japan experience and I certainly needed to talk  about them.  Even sales clerk were interested, but they only wanted a thirty second version.  Others at church would take more, yet only a three minute version.   So I was glad to encounter at a prayer group this acquaintance from the past who cared.
    Sally sat in the car with me after that first encounter and listened for thirty minutes.  A wonderful time  She invited our whole family over for dinner one time and that was very fun.  When I tried to set up a date to have her her family to my house,  their schedules were booked.   She told me with three kids busy in various activities, it would never happen.  A family to family friendship would never happen.
    I tried to get together with this woman individually and at one point Sally told me her friendship plate was full.  That stung.  Kindness motivated her to tell me so. She remembered moving back east and hoping with a friendship with a woman there and realizing only after a long period that this woman had no time to add on a close friendship.
    I don't want to hurt another person with words like Sally delivered to me, but is that the better thing to do?  I meet many newcomers through a church group I'm involved in, Menlo International Welcome and Outreach.  When I give them individual attention, some hope afterwords for a growing friendship, the kind where we meet ever two or three weeks.  I can't do that for all and still continue revising my novel, doing leadership and teaching at church, and keeping up with past friendships which are precious to me.  And I do need some of the past, the safety and security of knowing and being known.
    How do I welcome new people and not arouse in them the hopes of something I can't deliver?  How can I connect without "defrauding."  (a word leaders used when I was young and single about men who gave the impression they were interested in a serious relationship but didn't deliver)   When someone's hopes get raised that I'll be a close friend though I can't be, is that my fault?  Not necessarily. Sometimes people have blinders or want friendship so much they miss the clues I'm giving them.
    Yet, about Sally who once said she couldn't be a close friend, now I count her one of my close friends!  It came about slowly.  Four years in a prayer group together. walking for exercise together occasionally and, (now that we're no longer in the same prayer group) quarterly sharing of meals together have made us close friends. even though we only see each other once every couple of months. I count it a privilege to know her.
    I've let go of the idea of having one close friend.  Or even two or three friends that I share a close talk with on a regularly scheduled basis.  At some periods I have a promise from someone of doing that, then a change blows in: someone decides to go back to school, a knee injury necessitates many visits to doctors or physical therapy, responsilbities at church for a mission trip.  That's where I'm at, but I understand the longing in women's hearts for someone to talk with weekly and meet with monthly (my version of an ideal friendship).
     I'm sorry I can't do that and be true to my calling, true to the wide circle now of dear (not close in the meaning I've given it) friends I've forged along the way. 
    To those of you I've disappointed, I truly am sorry that I can't be what you need or want.  Heaven heals. One of many joys I look forward to there is  lots of time with my friends such as you.

   

A Key to Love

    My husband Collin is much better than me at remembering physical details, whether it's a phone number he hasn't dialed for five years or checking all the doors of the house to see if they are locked before going out.
    I can remember well the grocery list or the emotional import of someone's words.  We're different. Sometimes we appreciate those differences, sometimes -- as has happened a few times lately -- they chafe.
    Some days ago my husband said,   "I'm unhappy that you left the sliding door unlocked."
    "Is everything still here?"
    "Yes, but I'm unhappy."
    I'm thinking, what's the big deal. We all make mistakes at times. I know people who even have a policy of not locking doors (but I won't publish their addresses here).  We don't have  jewels - only computers -- he's a bit paranoid.
    To his defense, he probably thinks similar things regarding the nutritional standards and policies I try to uphold at home. And, as he reminded me at the time of our flare-up and once again after reading this (it's so easy to forget my own failings), I had first complained loudly about him locking the door knob of the side door when we were both at home, because his vigiilance lead me to unwittingly lock myself in the backyard.
    He'd been polite in telling me what bothered him, but we were both edgy.  With a daughter gone off to college, someone in whom we delight, there is a big hole in each of our hearts.  With her absence also comes a sense that we cannot protect her, monitor her doings and give her important feedback and input to counter any negative influence. Our uncertainty and loss makes us more prone to irritation with each other and magnifies small things.
    I'll summarize five minutes of tense words by saying we both were quite annoyed with each other. Then a thing previously unheard of at our home happened three days later.
     I found Collin's keys dangling from the lock on the outside of a backyard door.  And we'd both been out for several hours. He'd had to take the spare car key that day when he couldn't find that ring of eight keys. The irony of it certainly brought a smile to my face, but I just placed his keys on the dining room table for him to discover later and told my daughter.
     Gloating out loud to his face sounded good, I'll admit, but some Bible verses I'd been meditating on told me, Bad idea.  Verses about letting God defend me countered the appeal of confronting him with the fact of his mistake.To his credit, with a chagrined look he did bring up later the keys left outside in the door -- information passed on to him by my daughter.
    And - to keep reality on a part here -  on the day I took his keys out, I left that door ajar an inch and went out again!
    I'm glad we have a God who is bigger than our mistakes, who looks out after us.  We can never remember to do all the good things we should do.  Yesterday I returned to the garage. Collin and I had both been out there a couple of hours earlier.  The garage door into the alley was wide open. Who know whose fault it was . . . I felt a surge of panic because I have a brand new, baby blue, so comfortable and fast bike. Whew. Still there.  Thank you God. And help us to show grace and gentleness to each other.

   
   

Decluttering

    Other cultures have a lot to teach us.  Japanese culture has taught me a lot about taking care - or not taking care - of things.
    A motto of my family of origin was, "Waste not, want not."  My mother couldn't even let a scrap of chicken meat on a bone go into the garbage. She'd take the chicken leg I'd gnawed on, and finish off the last scrap.
She was child of the depression.  Her sharecropper mother had to raise three kids on very little and my mother's father disappeared before she has any memory of him. So her motto makes sense in view of the cultural situation she came from.
    It doesn't make sense for me in the here and now.  Time and space are more costly now than a bit of meat or a scrap of material, yet it takes difficult, active effort for me to deviate from that.   
    I've been doing that - decluttering, throwing out and passing on goods from ten years ago or even twenty that I am unlikely to ever use again. It's often painful for me.  I'm even asking friends to pray for me in this endeavor.
    The model of my Japanese friends come to me at times and frees me up to let go.  What with a high population density confined to little habitable terrain on the islands that compose Japan, the concept of throwing out things to make way for the new and keep an environment beautiful is deeply embedded in their culture.
    In fact, where we separate out the two concepts of "cleaning" and "de-cluttering or sorting," they have one word that contains both meanings - katazukero.  And this word also means to make beautiful.  In other words, something cannot be truly beautiful in Japanese eyes if it's messy or cluttered.  Beauty entails empty space.
    These cultural concepts of space and environment persist even when transplanted to America.  A few months ago I visited a young Japanese friend who had recently given birth to her second child.  I had brought her some used goods that would be helpful for a mother with small children.*  When I mentioned that we had been doing some sorting out and giving away of things we don't use, she told me that she does that weekly!   Astonishing to me that she would do this as a mother of young children and when she lived in a very big, spacious house.
    *Japanese don't usually offer used goods to friends.  Some might take it as an insult. Since this woman has an American husband and has been here some ten years, I thought she might be different.  I asked her beforehand in person, so I could watch her facial reaction, and she was indeed happy to receive some goods from me.

(I had asked her interest beforehand.