Beauty on the Backroads

Stories of grace for life's unexpected turns

Archives for January 2011

The secret of contentment can’t be in wiping noses, can it?

It’s the winter of my discontent. Poetic language is sometimes lost on me, so I’ve always thought there’s something about winter that makes a person discontented. For some reason, I dwell on all the things I want or don’t have more in the cold, snowy, dreary months of winter.

This winter, my discontent includes:

  • our house
  • our income
  • being a stay-at-home mom
  • my husband
  • the present
  • the future
  • church
  • seminary

And those are just the things that come to mind immediately. I know I’ve dwelt on other areas recently. Earlier this week, I was convinced I was not cut out for motherhood and God had no use for me in His kingdom. The reason? I’ve spent the better part of the last week battling illness (in myself) and wiping the children’s noses. This latter activity brings me no fulfillment whatsoever. So, I began to wonder, what use I could possibly be to the kingdom of God while wiping noses every couple of minutes. My heart longs for greater things; my mind has dreams of glory.

Somewhere inside me, I know that motherhood is a blessed gift, the HIGHEST calling maybe, but in this instant-gratification, microwave dinner world, the payoff of parenting is like slow roasting a turkey. I feel like I have to wait years before I’ll see any reward from this gig. I used to work in newspapers. The results of my labors were daily. Motherhood seems to be the same thing, day in, day out.

That’s not exactly fair. Our days are not boring by any means, but sometimes I feel like I’m the only one who experiences the madness, and what good is that to anyone else?

The apostle Paul said he had learned the secret of being content, and people usually follow that with his statement, “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.” So Christ is the secret to contentment, but how does that live itself out in my world? I know I ought to be content, but I’m not really sure how to get there. When I find myself wanting to be content, I discover something else with which I’m discontented.

And I’m a little afraid I’m going to spend my whole life like this — wanting what I can’t have or don’t have, wishing for another season of life, wondering why I’m not OK with life as it is instead of longing for life as I wish it was.

What are your secrets to contentment? How do you live with your life as it is while still hoping for better things to come?

Yesterday, three auction trucks pulled up in front of the house across the street. Our neighbor had been sick for a few weeks then was moved to an assisted living facility. Her family, it seems, had been through the house. What was left was left to the auction company to haul away.

Two trucks of stuff. One truck of garbage. A person’s whole life, as it were, all her possessions, gone in a day. Someone else determined what was important enough to keep, what could be sold and what should be thrown away.

Watching the process was sad, in a way, even though I didn’t know our neighbor at all. But it reminded me how quickly life passes, how easily “stuff” comes into our life and leaves it.

I’m trying to start this process myself in our house. One of my areas of discontentment is the size of our house compared to the amount of “stuff” we have. It’s not the house, really, that’s the problem; it’s our accumulation of things. I’ve begun boxing up things we aren’t using right now. I’ve started a give away bag. I’ve bagged up newspapers and magazines to recycle.

I’m not convinced it will solve my discontentment, but it’s a start.

When Shakespeare wrote the “winter of discontent” line, he meant that discontent was dying. I get it now. And I’m hoping that this really is the winter of my discontent.

Chutes and Ladders was more fun when I was the kid

Our daughter is a few months from turning the magic age. Three, it seems, is to children what 16 is to teenagers and 21 is to college students. Worlds of possibility open at the age of 3.

Take, for instance, the Happy Meal. She will soon be eligible for the regular, not the under 3, toy every time. And we won’t feel guilty for giving her toys and books that say, “Small parts, not for children under 3.”

Perhaps most exciting is the entrance into the realm of board games. I grew up in a board game family. Some of my best memories are nights spent playing Monopoly with my grandparents or Taboo at Thanksgiving or Guesstures at Christmas. We’ve been reluctant to buy any kid-friendly board games because, while we think she’s brilliant (what parent doesn’t think their kid is a genius?), even we could recognize that she needed to be of a certain age before we attempted game play.

So, for Christmas, she received Chutes and Ladders. This week, especially, while her brother naps, she’s been asking to play it. She likes the fun pictures of the kids.

Here’s how one of our games tends to go:

I explain the rules to her.

She dances her game piece across the board.

I tell her she needs to spin.

She spins, then stops it with her fingers.

 I tell her to spin and let go.

She spins.

 I move her game piece to the correct spot.

She whines, “But Mommy, I want to go to the movies!” (one of the spots in the middle of the game board, at the top of a ladder is of a girl going to the movies).

I explain that she has to work her way up to that square.

She gets quiet.

 I spin and move my piece.

She moves her piece to the middle of the board without spinning.

I swallow the urge to walk away from the game.

I explain the rules again.

She says she wants to go ice skating (another of the spots on the board).

I explain that the ice skating square is a bad one because it makes you go back toward the beginning.

You get the idea, I hope. I suspected this might be a problem for me earlier in the week when she was playing with her vTech laptop, too. I don’t know the age recommendation for that, but I’m pretty sure she’s at least a year too young for it. All she wants to do is push the buttons and click the mouse with no regard for the rules. I want her to learn, but most of the time I just want to grab the mouse and play the games for her.

I’m a rule-follower. I like precision and doing things the “right” way. Sometimes, I can’t even color with her because I want to color the characters the way they’re “supposed” to be. (Are Dora’s shorts red? What color are Boots’ ears? Is Spongebob all yellow? These are the pressing questions in my life.)

Then I remember that I don’t do things right all the time. I don’t always follow the rules. I’ve messed up. I’ve made mistakes. Sometimes God has stepped in to stop me from doing wrong. Other times, He let me make a mistake and learn from it. And I realize how much love there is in that non-action. And how incredibly difficult it must be.

I don’t want my kids to make mistakes, especially the grievous, hurtful kind that can change a life forever. But I also know that I can’t do everything for them in life. That some things they’ll have to learn on their own. And sometimes they’re going to do things the wrong way, and I’m going to have to watch them do it, learn from it and grow from it.

For now, that means loosening up a little while playing games. So what if she doesn’t follow the rules? She’s not even 3 yet. She will learn in time.

And maybe, if I chill out a little bit, she’ll even WANT me to teach her.