Author: Chel

Clogged

Posted on by Chel

I recently experienced my first clogged milk duct. While I initially had a great number of difficulties with breastfeeding when my baby was a newborn, a clogged duct was not one of them. Thus having a clogged duct now, after so many uneventful months of established nursing, came as a bit of a painful and unexpected surprise in at least two ways – in that I was experiencing a clogged duct at all, and that I responded so poorly to this seemingly minor difficulty. That I was not expecting a clogged duct seems rather self-explanatory, but I feel my response to said clogged duct warrants further reflection.

I feel as though my response to having a clogged duct revealed that I have many spiritual “clogs”, or areas of sin in my life. But unlike a physical clogged milk duct, which is suddenly and painfully obvious, my spiritual “clogs” are much more insidious and may only become evident during moments of duress. As my husband can attest, my responses to the even small upset of having a clogged milk duct included feeling sorry for myself, attempting to control the situation by researching and trying various treatments, becoming angry when said treatments did not immediately work, thinking I “deserved” to get better because I was trying to be responsible in addressing the issue, even blame shifting when my baby did not immediately accommodate to the dangle feeding nursing position that many others had recommended as the best remedy. My husband lovingly pointed out to me that he was rather afraid to be around me that evening after baby went to bed, as I was so obviously irritable and he was uncertain as to what might set me off next. I feel it is worth noting he was not saying that I could not be unhappy or angry, but rather that he found it problematic how I was taking my sadness and anger out on others. I realize that in the scheme of life, a clogged milk duct is a very insignificant issue, which makes how quickly it revealed my sin all the more humbling and sobering.

For those of you who appreciate resolution, know that my clogged milk duct resolved rather suddenly and non-glamorously as I finally managed to coax my screaming baby into the dangling nursing position with his chin pointing towards the offending duct. But I’m afraid there is as of yet no true resolution to my “clog” of sin issues; while I am being much more loving and present and cheerful and kind and patient for the time being, it is relatively easy to act in these ways when nothing particularly stressful or challenging is occurring. I find it troubling that I can spend so much time researching and fretting over and attempting to treat and caring for a minor physical difficulty such as a clogged milk duct, but that I so often fail to be so devoted to “treating” my innumerable – and far more serious – ongoing spiritual “clogs”. I realize I cannot truly “treat” my spiritual self; it is only by the undeserved work of Christ’s atoning work on the cross that I can have confidence of someday being fully healed and restored in the fullest sense of these words; how I need his ongoing grace and the working of the Holy Spirit in my life to sustain me day by day on the ongoing process of progressive sanctification and growth. But I think often I do not take enough responsibility for seeking to “walk by the Spirit” (Galatians 5:16) or to “work out [my] salvation” (Philippians 2:12), something especially saddening when I think about how my “clogs” of sin affect not only me but those around me, including my baby and my husband. Not because these works are salvific or because they are a “cure” that I can bring about for myself, but because if I truly am in relationship with Jesus he will have an impact on how strive to live my day to day life.

Thus while I am thankful my clogged milk duct issue is currently resolved, I am even more grateful for how this is serving as an opportunity to make more apparent my unresolved “clogs” of sin; in this I am again convicted of my need for Jesus and the restoration I look forward to one day when he returns. Until then, by his grace I will try to be an active participant in my own ongoing sanctification, seeking after the LORD as intentionally as possible by reading the Bible regularly, praying, being a part of a community of fellow believers, and seeking to live in obedience to his ways. I know I will often fall short, but I am thankful for the grace I receive from the LORD and from others to continue on, and not just for myself, but also because I want to love others – including my husband and my baby – well.

Small Presence

Posted on by Chel

My husband and I are finding that our baby’s physically small presence significantly – and disproportionately! – impacts our own desire to be present and to connect in everyday moments. Our baby is so naturally and unassumingly present and mindful, connected to others and to the world around him. When he looks at something or someone, he truly sees them; his eyes light up, he carefully studies them, if possible he uses additional senses – such as touch or taste – to learn more about them. He typically also responds with the demonstration of his own emotional experience – such as smiles or laughter or tears or vocalizations or physical movements. He devotes the same presence and attention to studying (what I would label) “exciting” new people or places on family outings as he does to observing everyday faces or toys or Cheerios on his highchair tray or our dog or leaves outside the window or pictures in a book he has already read…the list could go on and on.

As my husband and I share our days with our baby, we find great joy in learning to see the world through our baby’s eyes. Before baby, my husband and I thought of days in which we could truly be present and connect as days free of responsibility, days when we could go on dates to the city or dates out of town or dates to any number of our favorite local places. We often thought of work days as days in which we needed to focus on accomplishing what we had set out to accomplish, which often entailed rushing through certain tasks and trying to find the most efficient ways in which to do things. But slowly we are realizing that any day – in fact, right now! – is a beautiful time to truly live. As our baby is showing us, there are so many things, both big and small, in which to be present even in the everyday.

Thus my husband and I are trying to encourage one another to foster hearts of presence and gratitude while also still being faithful in our responsibilities. This is of course challenging and messy at times, as we often find parenthood and work and adult life responsibilities to be heavy and stressful. But we are trying and, I hope, growing. Practicing often looks like just sharing seemingly small moments with our baby or with one another, moments such as pushing our baby around the block on the little Radio Flyer tricycle his grandpa got him, or going to the bookstore together and looking at books and toys, or eating breakfast together, or watching baby splash in the bathtub, or playing peek-a-boo, or dancing goofily to music, or just playing on the living room floor, or soaking up baby’s newly toothy smile, or rocking baby, or kissing baby, or laughing with him. Practice looks like my husband and I trying to actually see and talk to and listen to and hopefully even laugh with one another even when we are both exhausted from a full day. Practice looks like feeling and sharing emotions honestly, large and small, from joy and excitement to sadness or fear. Each of these moments may seem small and simple, but my husband and I find that they are actually exceedingly precious and bring such a deep sense of connection as we get to share them together.

Moments such as these make me think that presence and connection are deeply linked: being mindful and aware of the world around me opens me up more deeply to connection with others, for as I both physically and emotionally show up, I can actually truly see those around me. And when two or more people are truly in the same place, genuine relationship and knowing can occur. My dear, sweet baby is naturally so genuine and open as he pursues both presence and connection, as is developmentally appropriate, but as an adult I am aware I have plenty of barriers – life responsibilities and pressures, anxiety, fear of vulnerability, past hurts; the list could go on. In spite of the challenges, I hope and pray that even the small moments in which I am able to be present and connected, strung together day by day, will grow in length and significance.

When I am with my baby, I want to truly be with him, not just sharing the same space. And the same is true of how I want to be with my husband, or my other family members, or my friends, or my clients, or with Jesus.

Family Adventures in Amateur Birding, Nature, and Worship

Posted on by Chel

We recently started birding as a family, and toward this end purchased the “Peterson Field Guide to Birds” and some binoculars. My husband and I were discussing ideas about new hobbies we could try to develop as a family that would foster connection as well as learning and curiosity. Birding – very amateurly – was an idea my husband and I both found we were excited about, and which we also hope our little baby will find it to be fun as he grows bigger. It also meets various interests that both of us have, including sharing time together, collecting, and generally observing the world around us, to name a few. As we are not too serious in our birding ambitions, we also enjoy the idea of talking as we walk, generally sharing enjoyment, and learning, as well as practicing the art of being present and mindful.

This past weekend we went out as a little family to a local forest preserve, and were delighted that in our short, baby-attention-span-length hike we glimpsed a number of feathered friends. My husband and I were both struck by how, when we are present and actually looking, the world is full of wonder that we may otherwise miss or take for granted. One especially wonderful moment was when a red-tailed hawk unexpectedly swooped across the trail a mere 10 feet or so away from us; it was so much larger and regal and complex and sleek than we ever realized when observing hawks either from afar or in captivity as had been the case in our previous encounters.

We also spied – and hopefully identified? – several other types of birds. It is hard to say what was most enjoyable out of this process – noticing and hearing birds, using the binoculars and trying to focus them before a bird flitted away, trying to remember notable features to reference as we quickly thumbed through our bird guide, logging what we thought we found, or just generally enjoying one another, nature, and laughter.

As we meandered about with eyes that were actually looking, my husband and I started to reflect a bit on the wonder and mystery of the world. It was one of those summer mornings that was warm but not hot, and surrounded with the sounds, sights, and smell of vibrant life that only a midwestern summer can hold – green trees thick with leaves and trailed by vines arching alongside and even above the gravel trail, various colors and textures of grasses gently swaying and rustling, light and darkness playing hide and seek among the breeze blown leaves of the tree groves, splashes of blue and yellow and purple and white flowers breaking up the shades of green, the sticky humidity making even the air feel alive and weighty, the hum of various bugs, the songs and calls of yet (to us) un-identified birds.

I find opening my eyes to the physical world also seems to encourage my soul to be more reflective and mindful. Being in nature leaves me feeling appreciative and awe-struck by its beauty and complexity, yet I sense my own finitude as I notice the mystery, wildness, and even danger of the forest and all that may be found within it. For all of humankind’s intelligence, ingenuity, and propensity to organize and control, even a small patch of nature reminds me that I myself am so small and my ability to control and to know is so limited. Which makes me think about how creation points to its Creator – imperfectly of course, especially in a world marked by the effects of the Fall – and yet in such a tangible way. God is unfathomably beautiful, good, loving, and faithful, yet he also is glorious, omnipotent, and righteous such that apart from the grace offered us in Christ his very perfection and holiness would leave us all, including me, undone. If even the greatness of a tiny corner of God’s creation humbles me, how great is God himself? One of my favorite psalms, which I think beautifully expresses God’s sovereignty over creation as well as how creation points to his glory and moves us to worship, is Psalm 104. Notice that even birds are mentioned, which seems especially apropos for a post that begins with birding!

Psalm 104 New International Version (NIV)

1 Praise the LORD, my soul.
LORD my God, you are very great;
you are clothed with splendor and majesty.

2 The LORD wraps himself in light as with a garment;
he stretches out the heavens like a tent
3 and lays the beams of his upper chambers on their waters.
He makes the clouds his chariot
and rides on the wings of the wind.
4 He makes winds his messengers,
flames of fire his servants.

5 He set the earth on its foundations;
it can never be moved.
6 You covered it with the watery depths as with a garment;
the waters stood above the mountains.
7 But at your rebuke the waters fled,
at the sound of your thunder they took to flight;
8 they flowed over the mountains,
they went down into the valleys,
to the place you assigned for them.
9 You set a boundary they cannot cross;
never again will they cover the earth.

10 He makes springs pour water into the ravines;
it flows between the mountains.
11 They give water to all the beasts of the field;
the wild donkeys quench their thirst.
12 The birds of the sky nest by the waters;
they sing among the branches.
13 He waters the mountains from his upper chambers;
the land is satisfied by the fruit of his work.
14 He makes grass grow for the cattle,
and plants for people to cultivate—
bringing forth food from the earth:
15 wine that gladdens human hearts,
oil to make their faces shine,
and bread that sustains their hearts.
16 The trees of the LORD are well watered,
the cedars of Lebanon that he planted.
17 There the birds make their nests;
the stork has its home in the junipers.
18 The high mountains belong to the wild goats;
the crags are a refuge for the hyrax.

19 He made the moon to mark the seasons,
and the sun knows when to go down.
20 You bring darkness, it becomes night,
and all the beasts of the forest prowl.
21 The lions roar for their prey
and seek their food from God.
22 The sun rises, and they steal away;
they return and lie down in their dens.
23 Then people go out to their work,
to their labor until evening.

24 How many are your works, LORD!
In wisdom you made them all;
the earth is full of your creatures.
25 There is the sea, vast and spacious,
teeming with creatures beyond number—
living things both large and small.
26 There the ships go to and fro,
and Leviathan, which you formed to frolic there.

27 All creatures look to you
to give them their food at the proper time.
28 When you give it to them,
they gather it up;
when you open your hand,
they are satisfied with good things.
29 When you hide your face,
they are terrified;
when you take away their breath,
they die and return to the dust.
30 When you send your Spirit,
they are created,
and you renew the face of the ground.

31 May the glory of the LORD endure forever;
may the LORD rejoice in his works—
32 he who looks at the earth, and it trembles,
who touches the mountains, and they smoke.

33 I will sing to the LORD all my life;
I will sing praise to my God as long as I live.
34 May my meditation be pleasing to him,
as I rejoice in the LORD…

35b Praise the LORD, my soul.
Praise the LORD.

I join the psalmist in saying “Praise the LORD, my soul. LORD my God, you are very great; you are clothed with splendor and majesty.” Yes, praise the LORD, oh my soul. Praise the LORD.

Motherhood – I’m Finding Myself Indelibly Changed

Posted on by Chel

I have been finding motherhood to be an experience that defies the capture of words, although I have spent a significant amount of time “tracking” this experience since I became a mother nearly a year ago. That being said, here are some of my feeble attempts to express the essence of motherhood that I have found to be so life altering and essentially other. However, before I do so, let me note that I believe that any true relationship entailing knowing and being known is life altering in some way. I do not believe that one needs to be a mother or parent in order to grow in depth or meaning, as there are innumerable ways that each of us experiences growth in our own unique life journeys. Following are merely some of my personal reflections on how my life has been changing since I became a momma.

I first started thinking about how to put words to motherhood when I and my husband were still in the hospital with our then-newborn baby; I was trying to make sense of hitherto unimagined experiences ushered in by the arrival of our tiny, precious little man. The word I found then, and continue to find today, that comes even a tiny bit close to capturing my experience of motherhood thus far is “profound”. Profound in that it has such a weight to it, both literally and figuratively. Profound in that there is such an ocean of emotion, such a strength of relationship (not only with my baby, but also with my husband), such a pushing of physical and emotional boundaries. Profound in that it has such depth to it. Profound in that it is serving as such a catalyst for a growing and extending of myself in ways I previously never experienced or even imagined. Motherhood is profound in that it is indelibly changing me.

When thinking of my experiences in motherhood, I sometimes think of a metaphor involving a jar/vessel that holds experiences. Before becoming a mother, I experienced life from within the parameters of a certain sized jar, and had rich relationships and emotions and ongoing areas of growth within this space. Yet somehow through motherhood so far, my jar has been growing; the parameters of my jar have changed and, it feels, deepened in certain ways such that there is more space and thus more room to hold and experience: my joy is more joyful, my love is more reckless, my sadness is darker, my anxiety is more chest crushing, my exhaustion is more perpetual, my sacrifice is greater, my vulnerability more apparent, my finitude more humbling, my need for grace is more obvious… It is as though I am myself in a new way that is not incongruent with who I was before, but is nonetheless other – as I am called to love and sacrifice in ways that previously did not even exist for me, because no one needed me to love or even to be in the innumerable unique ways my baby now needs me.

I recognize myself, but I do not fully recognize myself. In this, labor seems to foreshadow parenthood – in labor I literally “pushed” to the utter limit of my physical, mental, and emotional capacities to usher my baby into the world, and in doing so saw a “me” that in many ways surprised me and seemed rather foreign. Now, in the ongoing journey of motherhood I find the relentless “pushing” of a metaphorical labor to include many instances that call me to come to the end of myself and yet to still love more and give more of myself to now usher my baby through childhood to adulthood; in the process I find I am becoming someone who I was not before. And I think that overall this is a positive change, or at least I hope it is. As I find myself imperfectly striving to love and disciple and cherish and raise my baby alongside my husband, I am deeply humbled as I realize day by day that I am paradoxically far more capable and far less capable than I previously believed. I can love in ways that I could not have imagined before, but my finitude and selfishness and sin and desperate need for grace are also all the more obvious. How I need grace from my husband, from my baby, from my family and friends. Ultimately, how I need grace from Jesus. I pray that seeking to walk the journey of motherhood drives me closer to the cross, and that in the end this new me will be a more sanctified me who can love others more truly.

I feel that before I close I want to mention my beloved husband, as he and I are forever linked as we journey through life – including our new adventures of parenthood – together. Seeing him love both me and our baby so gently, strongly, unwaveringly, graciously, and self-sacrificially has filled me with such deep joy and appreciation that I find myself daily falling even more in love with him. Perhaps someday I will write more about my labor experience, but for now I will say that while it was unspeakably hard, the tender moments I shared with my husband as he loved me – even the previously unseen parts (literal and metaphorical) of me – and stayed present with me and encouraged me and cried with me and hoped with me and celebrated with me and sacrificed with me will forever be cherished in my heart. In that moment, I witnessed his metaphorical jar/vessel growing too, as he was loving me in ways that were not incongruent with who he was before but that were new and incredible nonetheless. And I continue to witness his jar growing as he continues to love me and our baby every day of our new lives. Neither of us are the same as we were when we first met, or were married, or even before we had our baby, but how could we be? If parenthood – both motherhood and fatherhood – is indeed profound, how could it not leave permanent marks of love?