Substitute For Perfectionism

I want SO badly to be perfect...to never make a mistake...to know everything...to be the best...to excel in every endeavor. This week I am reminded that perfection is not attainable...life is process.  

I am working in a 6th grade classroom for 4 more weeks as the Math teacher.  While I am enjoying the work, there are some areas of improvement in my craft that have popped up as I have undertaken this endeavor.  Last week, I had a good mindset.  I took the input of other teachers and support staff as helpful, kind advice (which it TOTALLY is).  This week, I am noticing, that I am starting to worry and obsess about my shortcomings instead of understanding that I can't "nail it" every time.  

At the end of today I was feeling pretty yucky...then I just decided..."I'm not going to do this!" I am going to own the fact that some facets of my career need a little more polish. I am honestly doing my very best to keep up with lessons, grading, make up work, and classroom management. That's all I can do.  I'M NOT PERFECT and nobody really expects me to be.  They expect a certain degree of competency...which I feel like I am giving. 

I'm doing my utmost to give 100% and my efforts are generally being met with encouragement...and a little constructive criticism.  Constructive means to build up...that is a good thing. This is my first time being a long term sub.  It's a different ball game.  I have some things to learn and I am accepting that without absorbing it into my self image.  

This is a growing experience.  When I am done with this assignment, I will have more knowledge...more practice...more tricks in my bag.  Instead of getting all melancholy and focusing on my "failures", I am making a concerted effort to frame this experience as a period of positive development as an educator.  That's honestly what it is. I will be a better teacher at the end of May than I am right now. That's the point of trying something new.  You get to see what skills need more work...where you are lacking...and strengthen them so that you are better than when you started.

 Progress...not perfection!

Fit

Since I was in college, God has taught me important spiritual concepts using the method of  the thematic unit. For the non-educators who may be reading this, a thematic unit is a when all of the lessons for each individual subject (math, science, language) are tied together by a certain topic.  So, if your topic is The Solar System, your math would be calculating light years or distances.  Science would be researching planets and other components of the Solar System. Students would write a report about a planet for the Language component and so on.  I'm not sure why God uses this method for me, but it has been effective over the years.  I don't realize we are in a thematic unit until I start to see concepts repeating themselves in different spheres of my life.

A few units we've covered are Trust, Unconditional Love, Humility, Rest, Selflessness, and Grace. My current thematic unit from God is "Fit".  This kind of Fit has less to do with, say, fitness or clothing size, and more to do with finding the right places where I am able to use my gifts, abilities, energies, and resources. What is a good Fit for me?

It started last Spring when I began to make peace with Foster Failure.  As I processed through my thoughts and feelings, I started to think that maybe I wasn't a heartless monster and fostering was just not a good Fit for me.  Then I kept finding myself wanting to transition from being a stay at home mom who worked part time to a working mom who stayed home part time.  I never really enjoyed staying home, but felt pressure to be at home from my culture and guilt because we could afford for me to do so and I just didn't want to. Then I felt a peace in my heart and began to think maybe I'm not a just a selfish, ungrateful mother...maybe staying at home full time is just not a good Fit for me.

This unit has followed me through this year.  We had to decide to move our child from a pretty good school because it was not a good Fit for him.  I've made spiritual decisions about how to pray and how to receive the Word of God that are not traditional because the traditional way is not a good Fit for me.

Today I am blogging from a 6th grade classroom (the kids are at band...I'm not neglecting them).  I accepted my first long term assignment for the last 5 weeks of school.  This was really a huge step for me because my own teaching career ended with me crashing and burning out. I came away from my last year of teaching feeling incompetent, useless, and slightly traumatized. Thinking about returning to the classroom was out of the question.

For the next month, I'm here all day, every day...instead of bopping around daily from one school/class/situation to another.  I have to take on the majority of the responsibilities of the classroom teacher and be the woman in charge of twenty-four 11-12 year olds...and I am really enjoying it and really quite good at it. And, this morning as I was walking through the halls of this elementary school, I wondered, "what if I wasn't an abysmal failure of a teacher"? What if the school/grade/district was just not a good Fit for me?

It just seems like God is using this time to teach me that my "failures" have been less about my worth as a human being and more about finding a place in the world where I can use the strengths that have been knit within me.  As always, I understand that there will be times when I must be stretched and grow. But, as I've already decided, I don't have to go looking for those opportunities...they'll find me.

I've spent too many years trying to stuff myself into the wrong shaped holes and then being mad at myself for failing. But God's word says, even in the church, not everyone has the same roles and gifts (1Cor 12). Some people are made to joyfully and easily do the things that cause me stress and pain.  I should let them do those things and remove from their backs the load that I was created to carry.  It's not just OK for me to find situations, methods, and philosophies that are a good Fit for me...it's necessary for my good and for the good of my fellow human beings.

Holy Week 2014: Easter Space

In my last post I kind of spun Easter in a pessimistic light.  But at the end, I resolved to take responsibility for my own worship. I decided to find a way to create some meaningful space for my soul to celebrate the Resurrection in a way that was different from previous years.  As it turns out, the solution was pretty simple.

In the morning, I carved out about 15 minutes of space.  I bundled myself in blankets, then took my coffee and my iPod out to the porch.  Outside, I took some time to breathe in Spring.  I don't think it's accidental that Easter is in Spring.  For me, it's just another way that God reveals His love as an object lesson.  Things in Spring burst to life and fill the world with beauty and fragrance and newness.  Spring causes me to worship a God who, after a cold, harsh season, makes all things new again.

After I took a minute to just be...I popped my ear buds in and shuffled through to some of my favorite worship songs on my iPod.  There are a handful of songs that always whisper truth and peace to my soul. They are lyrical and poetic...violins soar, harmonicas wail, drums lead my heartbeat, and voices sing rich, heavy theology.  This is worship that matches my "heartsong" (little Happy Feet reference for ya).

I pondered, I prayed, I cried. In the quiet, I connected to God.  I thought of Him, thanked Him, let love flow out of my heart and allowed Him to pour out love for me.  It was space.  It was worship.

While 15 short minutes wouldn't seem to make much difference, today's quarter of an hour did.  Taking time to focus my heart and mind informed the rest of my day.  I was able to have a soft, teachable heart during the sermon.  I was comfortable being as exuberant as I cared to be without feeling the weight of the "shoulds" of Easter.

Knowing myself and feeling free to change the way I do things, has today, proven to be beneficial for my soul.  I am a woman who is wrapped up in doing things "right".  Today, right was different.  Right was thinking outside the box and being intentional about interacting with God the way I was uniquely created to.

Holy Week 2014: Easter

NOTE: I was planning to write about Good Friday because it is a new tradition for me (within the last 5 years), but this year, I didn't attend the service because April Birthday-palooza happens to be the same week as Easter this year and I used my Friday evening to fit in Birthday celebration #1. Thus, I don't feel like I am in a place to write about that observance right now.  Maybe next year I can blog about Good Friday and how it affects me.

SOOOOO, Easter.

Of all of the days of Holy Week, Easter feels the least spiritual for me.  Growing up, my family did not attend church on Easter.  It was a quiet day out in the sunshine, feasting on candy from my Easter basket and hunting poorly dyed eggs (my sister and I used to mix all of the colors together...so we'd often just have a bunch of ugly camo-green eggs).  I loved our Easters.  Since becoming an adult, I have attended church every Easter, except the one when I had strep throat. To be frank, I don't really enjoy it.  Now that you are done gasping from my "blasphemy", allow me to unpack my feelings.

Easter is a sacred and beautiful day.  It commemorates a God so powerful that He could receive the worst punishment in history (dying with the sin of the world on his shoulders), conquer the consequences (eternal separation from God and death), all so we could be reconciled to our Creator. The truth is that , usually by the end of the day on Easter, I've barely thought about Jesus all day because I've been sleepwalking from one activity to another all day.  While it's a "nice" day.  It's just not very spiritual for me.  We talk a lot about creating "space" for worship at our church...but for some reason, I just can't find any space to worship The Lamb of God at Easter.

First of all, the service is usually earlier than normal.  After waking up earlier than usual, getting more dressed up than usual, and leaving the house earlier than usual, I just spend most of the sermon yawning and wishing I was home taking a nap.  While I feel terrible that I can barely keep my eyes open, I'm not sure what I can do to remedy that besides what I am already doing (getting to bed early and drinking coffee).  It's not really a spiritual issue, but my body being out of it's normal Sunday rhythm.  Then, the service is usually longer than normal.  I am already tired and having trouble staying awake, now I have to try to keep my decorum for 20-30 extra minutes?!

Additionally, there seems to be this strange pressure to feel more exuberant about my faith than normal. That's weird for me. Even though I am a giant extrovert, I'm not very flashy about spiritual things. It's my bent to be quiet and reflective when I consider my Savior. I don't desire to be extra peppy for Easter.

What would I do differently?  Well, for starters, I loved the slow pace of Easter that we had when I was growing up.  No, we didn't go to church, but there was emotional space...space that, now that I am a believer, could be well spent connecting and communing with my Risen Savior.  I could spend some time in my morning thinking and being quietly in awe of the wonder of Jesus.  Then my heart could be prepared for an extra long sermon.  I could be spiritually rested and have the energy to do the Easter activities that I love with my family.

My worship is my responsibility.  Regardless of what church does or says I should do, I need to carve out time to connect with God in a way that fits for me.  I want Easter to be spiritual...not because anyone tells me to...but because I desire it. This year I am going to look for some space...it will be interesting to see where I find it.

Holy Week 2014: Passover

Princess Vespa: I am Princess Vespa, daughter of Roland, King of the Druids.

Lone Starr: Oh great. That's all we needed. A Druish princess.

Barf: Funny, she doesn't look Druish.

~Spaceballs (1987)

The Spaceballs quote above is my goofy way of broaching the awkwardness of being a Christian who celebrates a Jewish religious holiday. I have a deep respect for the Jewish faith.  Though I don't share a modern history with the Jews (I can't even pretend to understand the pain that they have gone through as a people group), we do share an ancient and Holy history. We both learn the stories of Creation, the Flood, Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Moses, Joshua, David, Esther, Ruth, and Isaiah.  The first 2/3 of the Bible is (mostly) similar to Jewish holy texts.

We differ, in that, I believe that the Messiah has already come...Jews are still waiting. Christians believe that Jesus was the final and complete sacrifice for the atonement of sin. Jesus, the Son of David, the Son of God, the Messiah, participated in Passover...and fulfilled it by being the Ultimate Sacrifice that would free us from our slavery to sin and death. By His blood on our souls, God's wrath for our wrongs is pacified and we can be adopted as sons and daughters of the Creator. He even gave us a way to understand this concept within the tradition of Passover by instituting communion with the wine as His blood and the bread as His body. So, it is my belief that Passover can have a place in the rhythm of the Christian life.

I did not attend my first Seder until after I was married (so, well into my 20s). My husband and I got together with a small group of couples from our Sunday school class and went through the Passover Seder.  It was wonderful! The beautiful symbolism, the solemn remembrance, and the sensorial elements helped me find a fresh way to connect with my faith!  I left the Seder with a rekindled connection to my Hebrew ancestors and my Hebrew God.

Last year, we attended our Jewish neighbors' big Passover Seder. But, this year, my Big Boy (who has been very interested in matters of faith recently) offhandedly asked if we could have a Passover at OUR house.  I was up for it, so we invited my mom, dad and sister to join our little family for a small, intimate Passover Seder.

In the weeks before the Seder, I Googled a Christian Haggadah (order of service).  I found a really great one that not only gives the "script" for the Passover, but also gave good back-story about the traditions for those of us who did not grow up with this festival.  The Christian Seder we used basically follows the traditions of the Jewish Seder, except for the observation of the Place for Elijah. Instead of awaiting Elijah, we remove his place setting and announce that Elijah has already come and so has the Messiah.  (I think that the Haggadah we used was also shorter than a Jewish Seder because, apparently, Christians can't handle a lengthy religious exercise) ;) Besides finding the Haggadah, I had to plan out what materials I needed for the Seder, what we would eat at the meal, and various logistical things. It took hours and hours just to plan out this two hour dinner.

The day before I had TONS of tasks to tend to.  Preparing the home for Passover is a great deal work (particularly for the woman of the house). There was lots of food to cook, bones to boil, a house to clean, candlesticks to find, and elements such as charoset, karpas, and moror to prepare (and SOOOOO many dishes to wash!).  Even so, I found myself working joyfully...anticipating this sacred celebration.  My heart had a song in it and that made the work easy and fulfilling.

When my family arrived, they were seated at one of the fanciest tables I've ever set (frankly, the bar wasn't all that high, we're kinda casual around here).  But, I thought that Passover was an appropriate occasion to use a table cloth, real dishes, and crystal candlesticks (which I received from my wedding and have not used once in nearly nine years).  Each adult was given a 14 page order of service.  The man of the house, woman of the house, the children, and the attendees all have roles in the service.  Since we are Passover newbies, I thought it would be easiest for everyone if they had a "script" to follow. Mostly, since it was our first time hosting, my husband and I awkwardly bumbled through it! (It helps that there's wine.  It makes me a lot less uptight about getting it "right"!)

My family seemed to enjoy the Seder. The kids did not do well, so we just allowed them to go upstairs and play.  Big Boy stayed through the 4 Questions, which are supposed to be read by a child.  He can read now, so it was cool to see him use his new big kid skills to participate in the Seder.  At the conclusion of the meal, we agreed to hold a Passover Seder again next year.  It will be interesting to see how the meaning of the ceremony evolves as we get more comfortable with the rhythm of the Haggadah.

So, Passover 2014 is now on the books in our home.  Next year in Jerusalem!


NOTE: My heart goes out to the families of the victims of the Jewish Community Center shootings in Kansas yesterday.  I am grieved that this year's Passover festival had to be held in the shadow of senseless violence.  I'm so sorry for your loss. 

Holy Week 2014: Palm Sunday

NOTE: Even though it clearly says "faith" in the description of my blog, I get a little skittish when it comes to writing about matters of faith. I don't want to offend anyone and I want you to like me.  That statement is fraught with dysfunction.  However, part of healing from depression and anxiety is accepting myself the way I am...and I am a Christian...a fact that effects all facets of my life.  So, I am going to blog about Holy Week and it's implications for my life and faith...and you can read it...or not.

PALM SUNDAY:

Until I started attending my current church, I never really celebrated Palm Sunday.  I mean, the pastor might have SAID it was Palm Sunday, but that just meant that is was a week until Easter.  At our current church, they appreciate a little clumsy theatrical exercise.

Usually, attenders trickle into the sanctuary as they arrive at church. Before service, on this day, the congregation is all corralled in the gallery/foyer and not allowed to enter the sanctuary.  The worship leader begins a song and leads everyone into the sanctuary all together. As the people enter, they must walk through a crowd of people waving palm branches and shouting the words from the New Testament Triumphal Entry accounts..."Hosanna!" "Blessed is He who comes in the Name of the Lord!".

Though it seems cheesy and strange at first bash, if I allow myself to "go there", this little drama can create an interesting and emotional space to learn and connect with God. I have now had the opportunity to both be part of the shouting crowd and the congregation walking through it.  Both positions have left an impression on me that brings me closer to Jesus.

As a person walking through the branches to find my seat, I had to fight back tears.  It is humbling and uncomfortable to walk through people shouting adulation..  I can't help but think of the pain that was in Jesus' heart as He heard people clamoring exuberantly for His kingship...He knew they didn't mean what they were saying...at least not the way the Father had planned for it to happen. He had to humbly ride through this mass of fans...when He knew that in order to be King, He would have to die a violent, shameful death ...and the people in this crowd would DEMAND it.

As a person waving branches and shouting Hosanna!, I had to fight back tears. As a 21st century American I have very little context for that level of worship. Celebrity obsession is the closest I can come to drawing a parallel to the spectacle that occurred when Jesus rode His donkey into Jerusalem. Even though I am a believer, I can't imagine having such a strong belief in a flesh and blood person that I ran into the streets to cheer him on.  Participating in a reenactment helps me put myself in the shoes of the people in the crowd.  I wonder what they were thinking...feeling.  Did they really believe or were they caught up in a frenzy?  What would I have done?  Why would I have done it?

I love that my church is comfortable with the awkwardness of simulating the Triumphal Entry.  They are aware of the weirdness and the tension and discomfort that it creates in the hearts of people. Sometimes we have to let go of our grown up "dignity" and get a little caught up in the moment to find a new way to relate to God.  Palm Sunday provides that opportunity.

Walking The Walk

Spring has sprung here in the good ole Heartland.   All of my friends and neighbors are coming out of hibernation, birds are singing, trees are blossoming, and I am riding the high that comes with this change in seasons!  Woooo!  I want to do ALL the things!  As the past has taught me, however, I SHOULD NOT try to do ALL the things.  I need to choose carefully how I spend my energy.

One thing I AM adding in is more meaningful movement.  As a proponent of healthy fat people, I am (believe it or not) a fan of "exercise".  Now, I put that in quotes because in my life, there is a caveat for what I decide IS exercise.  First and foremost, my brain and body hate straining and striving for no reason. The goal of getting fit is not good enough to motivate my brain to get excited about moving my body.  It needs a "why?".

Of course, gardening takes a front seat in my life from here until Fall.  Gardening provides a why for the hours of twisting, pulling, bending, and lifting that I do.  I can literally garden all day without wanting to quit.  I can push myself to finish one more row or to dig one more hole. I've already created a small prairie in my front yard.  All of  the various weeds and grasses that grow wild in my yard were sectioned off into a "bed". Then, my prairie was seeded with chamomile, lavender, spearmint, and baby's breath. I have a connection to this form of nature and it will calm me just to see this wild patch of land that I am allowing to just grow crazy!  Also, this year I only planted A Blood type produce in my vegetable garden.  Arugula, lettuce, basil, green beans, carrots, beets, chard, and corn are all on the homegrown menu for summer!  It takes blood, sweat, and time to garden, but it's certainly worth it to me.  I love, love, love the practice of gardening.

Another form of exercise that seems meaningful to me this time of year is hiking/walking. Hiking is an activity that my mind enjoys...here is the beginning, there is the end, the path between is natural, wonderful, and captivating for my senses.  Nature calms me, even when I am trekking through it.  I have vivid, happy memories of walking miles and miles along trails in Germany as a child.  There was one trail that connected two Army bases that went through a big forest.  It smelled damp and earthy and felt cool and green. Another favorite German hiking trail was in the tiny village we lived in near Heilbronn.  This trail was open and wound through various farms and orchards.  Giant green cabbages and sugary over-ripe apples lined my path as a wondered around for hours at a time.  I never got too tired or wanted to quit.  I still truly love this form of movement.

Alas, there is not always a trail to explore.  So, I have to find other meaningful ways to move my body. There must be a reason or a destination though, otherwise, it is drudgery to me.  Simply walking around the neighborhood is boring and meaningless to my brain.  I don't wanna do it and I get tired and whiny when I try. The little trick of parking farther away from stores or parking in a central location to an area where I need to run multiple errands DOES work well in my little brain's motivation sector. So, I do that.

Additionally, I just purchased an inexpensive (but good quality) pedometer.  Without intentionally trying to exercise, I have managed to walk 3000 steps on the weekend and 6500 steps when I work.  That's not really a LOT, but it's not nothing. According to one website, I burn nearly 300 calories when I clock a mere 3,000 steps.  It's a start.  It's doable and enjoyable for me to "exercise" in this way. I am a goal meeting kind of gal, so knowing that the recommended number of steps is 10,000/day, I find myself thinking of ways that I could get more steps in.

Spring has sprung.  I've made intentional choices about my protecting and strengthening my physical and mental health by focusing on the goal of meaningful movement.  I'm excited to get out there and enjoy the renewed planet!

Swigart Speaks Out

When I was in Junior High, we had a little "Most Likely" page in the yearbook. Now, this was the time of Ricky Lake, Sally Jesse, Montel, and Jerry Springer (I'm most certainly dating myself here).  So because of my commitment to argue, debate, and challenge others, a jury of my preteen peers voted me "Most Likely" to have my own talk show, called Swigart Speaks Out.  I really WAS a very argumentative and opinionated teenager. Not the kind that whines about unfair curfews and too much homework, but rather the kind who challenged my Biology teacher's lesson on evolution or hotly debated with a classmate as to whether or not the Gulf War could really be classified as a war.

When I was 15 I became a Christian and for some reason I quickly equated faith with culture.  Almost as soon as the ink dried on my new soul, I had adopted the socio-political stance of the Christian Right.  I had always been on the conservative side of things, so it was easy to slip into this new ideology.  My love for debate and argument followed me into my Christian walk.  Whenever the opportunity presented itself, I would be game for a lively discourse on the topics of abortion, evolution, welfare, and abstinence.  There were always a few issues that my heart wasn't in like gay rights, women's roles, and courtship, but I just thought I was a bad Christian and kept striving to beat the drum of my culture.

A funny thing happened when I went to college.  Though I still desperately clung to my conservative culture, there began to be a shift in my heart. I met openly gay people...and liked them.  I met women who practiced sex outside of marriage...and cared about them.  I met young alcoholics...and hurt for them. I met people who had infinitely more information than me about the topic of evolution...and I found my own arguments juvenile.  I had a professor who challenged us to challenge our beliefs...he was one of the only people who cared enough to speak into my first dark depressive season.

During that time, what used to be harmless contention about abstract topics became mean, uncaring, unresearched jabs at my fellow human beings. I began to realize that people are not issues.  They are complicated, complex, contradictory beings...just like me.  It was then I decided to keep my mouth shut more often...to listen more.  I began to value relationships over my desire for dispute.

This shift in values has strengthened and solidified itself as I've lived more of life.  Over time, many of the culturally Christian stances I had so passionately accepted became unrealistic to me (mostly in the sphere of politics and social justice). Though I still hold a great many Biblical views on socio-political topics, I'm not generally inclined to shout them from the rooftops.  If I am not your friend...if I do not love you the way you are...who am I to speak my faith into your life?  If I haven't heard your story...haven't listened to your explanations and honest questions...who am I to despise your thoughts? If I haven't laughed and cried with you...had deep, heartfelt discussions with you...who am I to look into your life and point out sin?

I want those I love to know what a relationship with Jesus is like.  I want them to understand the depth of His love for them.  I want them to understand what honors Him and what grieves Him.  But, I can't speak this kind of intimate love to a person by contending in a debate with them. I can't honestly compel them to look to Jesus by smacking them in the head with a thick list of sins and Westernized social rules.  If I try to talk with them about matters of faith without first seeking to actively LOVE them, I am just making a bunch of discordant noise.

1Corinthians 13 

1. If I speak in the tongues of men or of angels, but do not have love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. 2 If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing. 3 If I give all I possess to the poor and give over my body to hardship that I may boast but do not have love, I gain nothing.

4 Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. 5 It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. 6 Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. 7 It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

8 Love never fails.