The God of Love and Fear

I just finished watching "Then She Found Me", which is a wonderful movie.  It's rated "R" for language.  It's got Helen Hunt, Colin Firth, Bette Midler, and Matthew Broderick in it.  A main theme in this movie is adoption, from every angle.  Another theme is infertility.  And another theme is divorce and relationships, every kind of relationship, between families, lovers, etc.  Another theme that surfaces is God and religion.  It is a beautiful movie.

I haven't been religiously active for years now.  There was a brief moment last year that I went to church consistently.  It lasted 5 weeks.  This blog post is not about what issues I may or may not have with religion, because quite frankly I haven't figured it out yet.  I support my family and friends who are active in their religion.  I am excited when my nieces and nephews participate in religious ordinances because it is important to them and I love them, so I support them.

There is this part in the movie where one of the main characters experiences a miscarriage after great difficulty getting pregnant in the first place and then begins the process of going through fertility treatments because of her difficulty in getting pregnant.  Her birth-mother is at the appointment with her and the doctor wants to get started with the treatment and her birth-mother says to her daughter, "Do you want to pray?" and then at the doctor, "That's what she does, she prays a lot."  Her daughter says she doesn't want to pray and this surprises her birth-mother who then asks the doctor if she could have a minute with her daughter.  The doctor and assistant leave the room to give the patient a minute with her mother.

The birth-mother then starts asking her daughter why she doesn't feel like praying.  The daughter gets defensive and gets up to leave the room to get the doctor but the birth-mother won't let her by.  Holding her daughters hands she asks her for the fifth time, or so, why she won't pray at the most important moment of her life?  Her daughter responds by saying something like, "Why would I trust this moment with someone I thought was..." and she stops.  With tears in her eyes, crying a heart broken cry that we've all experienced at some point in our life, she says, "I thought God was loving and good... I had faith."  At this point, I'm crying because watching this movie and seeing all that this character has been through, a lot of it relate-able, it was hard not to cry.

Her birth-mother responds, "What if God is difficult?  What is He is awful?  Even complicated?"  Her daughter looks into her eyes and whispers, "like me."  And the connection is made.  This hit me hard.  I know I've discussed religion on here before.  The topic of religion is delicate and complex.  It's a delicate place to be in when you know you've sinned, but from your sin comes your life's greatest accomplishment.  How do you justify those feelings?  It's also scary to consider trusting to someone else, anything else that could be remotely as important to you as your life's greatest lesson.  And so, you just kind of go through life trusting yourself with yourself.  I'm talking about being a birth-mother right now.

I could sit here and say that the reason I don't go to church is because the bishop I spoke to after I placed Baby Boy for adoption didn't handle it very well and punished me further after I had just made it through 9 months of spiritually self-refining fire.  I could.  Religious figures always make for a great scapegoat.  I could think up a dozen issues I have and place the blame elsewhere instead of owning them as my own insecurities about religion.  But really what it comes down to is that I once had faith.  I once trusted that God was loving and good.  Maybe that's ridiculously cliche for me to say.  I mean, of all the scapegoats there ever were in the history of mankind, of course I'd be angry at God.  There is no originality in that one.  I get it.  And maybe it's selfish of me to feel like I deserve a break.  But, we've all been there.  So, clearly there is enough judgment to go around in a situation such as this.

I had a dream about a baby girl the other night.  I was holding this baby girl and she had raven-black hair.  She was tiny.  And I loved her.  I could feel my love for her and it was radiating and I knew she could feel it too, even though she didn't know what it was, except that it felt safe.  My entire dream consisted of me looking down into the eyes of my baby girl and being so proud of her.  She was tiny and she was mine.  Do you know how badly I want that?  It hurts bad.

The main character of the movie ends up praying.  She is Jewish and so her prayer was sung.  She translates it for her birth-mother afterward because her birth-mother is not Jewish.  Translated, the prayer meant: "Listen, O Israel, the Lord our God, the Lord is one.  Listen, O Israel, the God of love and the God of fear are one."

To be human is to be a paradox.  If it is human nature to be a paradox; to be awful and wonderful, to be complicated and simple, to be difficult and effortless and if we are to believe that we are creations of God, then wouldn't it make sense to believe that God is infinitely more complicated than we are?  This is a huge thing for me because I have felt so much guilt about my anger towards God.  And the fact that I feel guilt makes me even angrier.  But, God created emotion and emotion is confusing.  We know joy because we've felt sorrow.  We know love because we know anger.  And He created it all, so knowing that, I know he can handle my anger and desire to shut Him out right now.  It's complicated.  And this post could offer great offense to some of you out there; I realize this.  But, if I am being honest, I don't feel safe in religion right now.  And I don't trust God right now.  And that's okay because God is merciful and He can handle my anger towards Him.  Not many beings can handle this kind of anger, but He can.  He can handle it because he is the God of love and fear.  He knows the delicate difference between the two.

Dear Sweetheart,

Dear sweet little-man, baby boy.  Today you are 3 years old.  I can't believe it.  I still remember everything about you.  I had the wonderful opportunity to see you recently and you are spectacular!  There are no words to express effectively how mesmerized I am by you.  From the moment I met you to know, you have my heart completely.

You can be shy, but you are always a show-off, and in me, you have the most captive audience and you pick up on that very quickly.  Even though you missed out on a complete nap the day we saw each other, and you were clingy to your dad, it didn't take too long for you to warm up to me.  You were running all over the place and I loved watching your independence.  You are not afraid of the big slides.  I think you might be an adrenaline junky, and that makes me so happy because that means that you aren't phased by the idea of not being able to do "something", you'll try it and, from what I can tell, you excel at whatever "it" is.

It was fun playing with you.  I love your fist-pump when you are about to do something you want everyone to know about.  I love your victory dance when you know you've done a good job.  And I absolutely love your upbeat attitude at thinking you always win the game... even if that's not the case.  Your laughter is music.  Your voice is music.  The little way you talk melts my heart.  I'm the luckiest birth-mother in the world to know your light.  I love you with all my heart, baby boy.  I always will.  You are the child of my heart.

Sincerely,
Your birth mother

"Strive to be Happy"

Something is brewing in me that I've wanted to write about the last few weeks, but I need to let it steep for a little longer so I know how to express it.  Let me start off by saying that my heart is so full right now.  I am in such a great place right now, emotionally speaking.  That's not to say that things aren't difficult right now, just I'm at a place where I've never been before; a place where I am learning how to separate myself in a good way from the stress.  I still experience the stress, but it doesn't become me.  


I have this friend named Chris.  I've known him since I was in middle-school.  He's a chill dude.  He's the one who got me curious about looking into Buddhism, which I've only dabbled in the research really.  Today, out of the blue- I haven't talked to him for a long while- Chris sent me an e-mail on my Facebook.  He said, "One of my favorite poems... thought I'd share."  The poem that he sent me is below.  


As I read the poem, my eyes began to water and my heart began to pound in the way when you are inspired.  And it's made me think about where I am right now... this place that I'm in now where I am starting to recognize myself, this girl who is no longer a girl-child, but a woman, and someone I've been wanting to meet for a while now.  In this woman there are glimpses of me and who I used to be and there are glimpses of the woman I want to be and am becoming... and it's awesome.  It's amazing how you can find yourself when you are no longer hiding from everyone.  It's amazing how you become who you are naturally to become when you set the boundaries in your life that need to be set so that you have a chance to live and live in a way that is your creation and not just what makes everyone around you feel comfortable. That life- living for other's- it's not a life, it creates insanity.  


For a long time I've been in a haze... since before Baby Boy was conceived... I was floundering and trying to find that balance between who I felt/feel I was/am and the person that other people wanted me to be.  I can't even describe to you the kind of crazy that living that way built up in me.  I can't begin to describe to you the kind of distrust that living that way nurtured in me.  I can't begin to explain to you how lost I've been... and now, the haze is clearing... and I don't feel crazy anymore and that's... joyous.  It's scary when you feel like you are slowly going insane, only you have to hide it.  And now, I'm seeing life more clearly and it's beautiful.  And I'm calm for the first time in so many years... I'm talking more than a decade here in terms of the years I'm talking about.  


The poem below expresses this calm that I'm talking about.  The poem below expresses the quiet truth that is building in me and replacing the distrust.  It describes the soft pride and honor that I feel is replacing the crazy that scared me for so long.  The poem below describes the connection with the earth that I feel... the sense of grounding I feel now, where in it's place I was once a gypsy just floating from place to place, both emotionally and physically, all the while looking for my heart and that place where I hoped to feel whole.  I am "a child of the universe, no less than the trees and the stars" and I "have a right to be here.
And whether or not it is clear to [me], no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should."  The power in that acceptance is unreal and yet so completely real and honest in it's truth.  And that truth leads to a delicately secure trust that I can let things happen as they will and make my choices based upon my truth and in that peace, all the sorrow and let-downs of the world remain quieter than they have in years; they are no longer the focus, rather the background noise to the aspirations of my soul which will not lead me astray because they are good and honest and in that is joy.  What I've learned?  Our hearts are not found in other places, they are found within our self acceptance.  That's not to say you won't come across people and places that you feel so completely soul-compatible with because our nature as human beings is to connect and love and allow ourselves to be loved.  What I'm saying and what I finally understand is that... you and I won't find that until we find ourselves and our love and acceptance for ourselves.  I finally get it.  Better yet, for the first time in my life, accomplishing that feels totally doable.  Enjoy the poem.  I did.



Desiderata
by Max Ehrmann


Go placidly amid the noise and haste,
and remember what peace there may be in silence.
As far as possible without surrender
be on good terms with all persons.
Speak your truth quietly and clearly;
and listen to others,
even the dull and the ignorant;
they too have their story.
Avoid loud and aggressive persons,
they are vexations to the spirit.
If you compare yourself with others,
you may become vain and bitter;
for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.
Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.
Keep interested in your own career, however humble;
it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.
Exercise caution in your business affairs;
for the world is full of trickery.
But let this not blind you to what virtue there is;
many persons strive for high ideals;
and everywhere life is full of heroism.
Be yourself.
Especially, do not feign affection.
Neither be cynical about love;
for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment
it is as perennial as the grass.
Take kindly the counsel of the years,
gracefully surrendering the things of youth.
Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune.
But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings.
Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.
Beyond a wholesome discipline,
be gentle with yourself.
You are a child of the universe,
no less than the trees and the stars;
you have a right to be here.
And whether or not it is clear to you,
no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.
Therefore be at peace with God,
whatever you conceive Him to be,
and whatever your labors and aspirations,
in the noisy confusion of life keep peace with your soul.
With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams,
it is still a beautiful world.
Be cheerful.
Strive to be happy.

Semester Final Grades

This semester was a difficult one.  I promise you that you will hear me say that probably every semester.  Besides the difficulty of upper level literature classes, I've also experienced a lot of changes in my personal life and it's just been a heck of long and difficult semester.

I think I've probably written about finals already, so I won't bore you with the details again.  But, final grades were issued yesterday and I wanted to let you know how it all turned out.  I ended up with a 3.60 GPA this semester, it's not a 4.0 like last semester, but I'll keep it all the same.  I ended up with a final grade of an "A" for my Romantic British Literature class and my Contemporary American Literature class.  And (drum roll please), I pulled off a "B" for my final grade in math!  Heck yes I did!

Seriously, my literature classes this semester demanded majority of my study time and I bombed my last chapter test in math and I wasn't able to dedicate much time to studying for my math final because all my time was wrapped up in researching for my final papers for both literature classes.  So, I am proud of that math grade.  I left that final feeling comfortably confident but nervous because I was confident, if that makes any sense at all, haha.  But it's done.

I've decided not to take any classes this summer and to focus on myself and some things I want to work on for me and a future I'm pursuing.  This first year back to school after about a 6 year absence was intense but I've learned so much and I've loved it, even when I didn't love it.  I'm looking forward to progressing more and more into the English major and relating to the literature that will be exposed to me.  I'm proud of myself.  With all the personal stuff that's gone on since I enrolled in Fall 2011, I've still managed to maintain a great GPA.

Going back to school has taught me how strong I am and how smart I am.  I've always known I was a quick witted person, but I would never have ventured to call myself smart... that's horrible to say, but it's something inside of me that I need to resolve and it's the truth.  I've learned this semester especially that I have a lot that needs to be said and people want to hear it and the things that I have inside me are worthwhile and relate-able and that I have a special way in which to communicate them.  I learned this semester that people want to hear my input.  My literature classes were discussion classes.  That's all we did was discuss the texts.  We would have an occasional pop-quiz, but primarily we heavily discussed the texts we read.  And a lot of the British Lit. was above and beyond easy comprehension, and the American Lit. texts were all from a Latin-American perspective and so these texts required a lot of me to relate and attempt a vague understanding of them.  What I'm trying to say is that they were intimidating texts to discuss and I was scared at first to offer input, but the more I did, the more people would tell me that they appreciate my perspective and the view-points I brought to class, and that my comments helped them relate to the texts in a deeper way having heard my perspective of the text.  That meant a lot to me; to be heard and recognized for what I had to say and wanted to say.

This has been an insanely intense year at University, but I did it and I did it successfully.  So much inner strength comes for that statement.  I didn't just survive these semesters, I thrived, and I found a voice that has been quiet inside of me for my entire life and I found a way to communicate it.  That is so... liberating.  I am grateful for all that I learned in these last 2 semesters, specifically the one that just ended.  I'm looking forward to returning to school in the Fall.  I thank you all for taking interest in what I have to say and for sharing your thoughts with me.  Thank you.

Babies on my Mind

It's interesting. I am so baby hungry. Truth be told, I've been baby hungry since Baby Boy was four or five months old. Motherhood is a complicated thing... beyond that "birth-motherhood" is an even more complicated thing. As a birthmother, you take joy and pride in your creation... the most beautiful creation you've ever accomplished... but you observe from a distance. My eyes are watering right now. I can't describe in words what my heart feels. My son is beautiful and perfect, but he is no longer mine. To be honest, I'm surprised by these feelings. And, I think... I know I've mentioned it in previous posts that... when these feelings hit is anyone's guess. And these feelings are hitting me again and they've come out of nowhere.

This time isn't like the last time these feelings struck. The last time they hit, the emotion was easy to recognize because it was pure sorrow mixed with quiet reflection. This time... it's confusing. I want a baby really bad. But, not just to have a baby. I'm not taking on, or promoting, the ideology that if I had a baby my life would be perfect and no longer filled with "the stuff of life" that makes life sometimes difficult to swallow. A baby is not a fix all. I want a baby because I want to start my family. There are children that are meant to be with me and I want to get them here. Just as Baby Boy was not meant to be with me... there are children who are meant to be with me and I am so excited to meet them and be with them. It's just a matter of timing. I've never been good with my life's timing and I've learned that a lot of it is based on patience... and I'm more patient now than I used to be. But patience is still hard to digest when you know the beauty that is to come.

I am in love with an amazing man and he is in love with me and we often talk about our future family and how excited we are to meet our children. He is wonderful. This is the same Mango I've always talked about. I am a lucky girl to know his love. Together, he and I are going to create a beautiful family... but, it's going to take some time and patience to get there. We are both working on our individual stuff with a united front for a common goal. That common goal is marriage to each other and it's going to take some time and that is fine. I've got time. I don't know what the common thread of this post is. I've just been sitting in my office at work today and the only thing I can think about is my future family.

I stood at the window and let the warmth of the sun flood in upon me and it was wonderful; it was the first solid stream of sun Utah's had for weeks now and it was greatly appreciated. And as I stood there, I imagined this little girl with long hair and she is shy and her presence is like the warmth of a ray of sun... peaceful, enveloping, and quiet. And... it sounds crazy, but that little girl is mine. She's mine. I can't describe how I know this, but I do and I can't wait to meet her. It's going to take some time and that is fine. I can be patient when I know that the outcome is as beautiful as the sun. I am baby hungry, but this time I'm going to do it right.

Rubix Cube Human

The following is a poem I found while looking through some old papers. It's a poem I wrote while I was dating Baby Daddy and it's extremely revealing into who I was at that time. A lot has changed since then and I'm glad for the change. I'm not proud of the woman I used to be, but I'm proud of the woman I'm becoming.

Chameleon

The many sides of me
Aren't so easy to see, but
I can be whatever
You need. A chameleon
Posing as a civilian- I'm
The one
And the million.
Heavenly irreverent,
I draw you in because
I'm your sin.
I'm charmingly disarming,
But it's not a game and
You are not my toy,
Boy. I do
not deceive-
So, believe me-
All the different parts of me are
My reality.
Fold and re-mold me,
You can even tear me
As long as you repair me.
I would bleed just to be
What it is you'd like.

Copyright: Other Mother