"Not Same"

Lately I’ve been feeling “not same”.

    I began teaching my daughter sign language when she was 6 months old.  One of the words she learned later on is “same”.  You stick up your pointer fingers, as if pointing with each hand, and bring them both together so that your fingers touch.  “SAME”.   She is very good at this concept.  She points to the clock in a book then the clock on her wall and says, “Mommy!  Same!”.   When we learned colors she figured out that some things are “not same”.  Yellow pipe cleaner, pink hole.  Not same.

   This week I have been feeling “not same”.  I know in life there are lots of “preferences” that aren’t worth splitting hairs over.   Our pastor eloquently described these as “things written in pencil”, not things written “in blood”.  You split hairs and nations sometimes, over things in blood.  The things that make me “me”, are sometimes blood things, sometimes ink things, and sometimes pencil things.  I feel fairly supported on the blood things and a few of the written in pen things, but it is nice to feel that you have some of these pencil things in common with others, too.

   You see, I am a sorta crunchy but not quite hippy-dippy mama.  We plan to homeschool.  I breastfeed, sometimes cloth diaper (I did say “sorta”), prefer wooden toys that don’t flash, and like vegetables.  A lot.  We’re a poor, hubby-back-in-school-and-mommy-stays-home sort of family so I don’t get to do a lot of things I would like to do; like plant a garden in my 2-5 acres of land, buy organic meats, or keep chickens.  But my heart is there.

   I also like quiet.  I like simple.  My big dreams center on my family unit and enriching our lives together.  I see bigness in small things.  I don’t need rallies, causes, or marches on anything.  I need relationships.  I need one-on-one heart to hearts.  I need the freedom that comes from passing wisdom to another in a wrapping of love and understanding that comes from knowing.  I would rather sit and talk with a scared, young, pregnant mom than march on an abortion clinic.  I would rather share what little I have with a needy friend than run a food drive.  I shy away from sweeping, all-inclusive, lack of personal details things.

   Now, don’t misunderstand.  I know that causes and drives and marches have their place.  This world needs all types, and that includes the people who do “big”.  Lord knows there is a lot of hurt out there and it takes a lot of effort to address it even just a little.  But it also takes those of us who do “small”.

   Lately in my world I seem to be surrounded by people who think big, do big.  A. Lot.  I am overwhelmed by that.  Sometimes it makes me feel foolish in my smallness.  As if I am not doing enough, or being enough.  I feel that I have to measure up, do more to matter.  And other times I feel that I need to cry out to them not to forget the small things; that they are missing their very own lives in the midst of doing all this bigness.  I am “not same”. 

   Lately I am finding it hard to get time with other hearts like mine who sympathize.  I don't quite fit in here in this college town.  I feel old-fashioned and out of date.  I hate neon, the 80’s, wide-rimmed glasses, skinny jeans on men, and pretty much a lot of things in vogue right now.  I am also too “worldly” for the "other crowd" with my occasional glasses of wine and cuss words in some of my movies.  I hate the idea of so much structure and programming we lose Jesus, and simultaneously struggle with so much "coffee-house Jesus" we lose His holiness and dangerous wildness.  I find that I often fall between two extremes.  I am neither “traditional” churchy, nor “emerging” non-churchy.  I am neither hippy-dippy vegan, nor processed everything consumer.  I do not view God as far off, observing our behavior and dealing out good and bad marks accordingly.  Nor do I view Him as only mushy, lovey and out to make me feel good about myself.  He is both too holy and completely accessible all at the same time. 

   I am a think-with-your-heart person.  I am a tea and cookies in a china cup by the window person.   I am a Bible and a candle at dawn in the quiet person.   I am a stay-at-home and nourish the hearts of my babes person.  I am a home-educator who values truth and biblical world view as much as math or the periodic table.  I believe learning happens every day all day.  I am a hymn-loving, classic music dancing-to, fine art admirer who can also kick it to a mean country banjo.  I am a traditional values, Susie-homemaker, family-centered, wine drinking, mountain climbing, “crap” saying, Bible-believing,  Song of Solomon love life enjoying woman. 

   My mother just left for a foreign country for 5 weeks, my best friend is mid-move, and my husband is an hour and a half away making money to pay the bills all week.  I am lonely.  And I am “not same”.   I guess this is just one of those times to press further in to my completely holy, whispering in my very ear Jesus.

   Anyone else feeling the “same” as my “not same” lately?