Showing posts with label serving. Show all posts
Showing posts with label serving. Show all posts

Monday, April 15, 2013

Poop


I've never been one to do things in order.

I can distinctively remember being in one of my favourite places in the world, Whole Foods grocery store in Arlington, Texas, perusing the aisles, when they caught my eye.

Steve and I had been married little over a year when I came home declaring that I had found "it." The items that we did not need at all, but I tried in vain to tell him we needed to buy in advance:

The nappies we were going to use with our baby.



Previous to that fateful store trip, I had never been particularly interested in cloth nappies. I'd always thought of them as old fashioned, bulky, stinky...but you know me: put something in bright colours and make them sleek and fashionable, and I'm all up in its grill.

Roll on three years, lots of convincing of a husband, immense researching of the site, testing out at The Baby Show, and one gorgeous princess later, and we are avid users of gNappies: gParents, cloth nappy people, the hippies who buy disposable inserts to go in them that we then add to our compost heap for extra roughage.

Feel free to come over in the summer to sample veggies fertilised by Zella.
It will be better than when we served salad to a guest last year, and we discovered we served her an earwig.

Rather than the simple throwing away of disposables, after each change, time must be spent in a more labourious cleaning up job.

As I leant over the bath last night, showering off the mess, the colours swirled amidst the waters, revealing more of my very self.

Cloth humbles me.

I take the soiled, wet, stained garments, and with bare hands scrub, rub, and make new.

Regardless of how I feel, how the day goes, I have to put the effort in; laying aside my self to provide for my child's most intimate need.

This mess is none of my doing, but it is mine to sort out.

My pride must consistently and constantly be pushed to the edge, as I endeavour in the dirtiest job in my house (besides the bins).

And I needed this.

I need to be humbled.
I need to be put in my place.
I need to know there are others needs beyond my own.
I need to know that I'm not above anything.
I need to be reminded that there is more than "me" in this world.
I need that quiet time of pondering to evaluate who I really am throughout the day.

Do I think that everyone should use cloth nappies?
Yes, because landfill sites are filling up, nappies create a lot of waste, it can save you lots of money, they are great with sensitive skin babes, and there are some really awesome options out there.

Will everyone?
No, and that's ok because each family needs to make the choices that works best for them, and that's the way it should be.

Do I think everyone needs to be humbled?
Definitely.

Consumerism rages.
The customer is always right.
We push and fight and wrestle to be top dog.
Not realising the importance of the worker bees.

We all need a place of self-reflection.
A place to serve others.
A time when we aren't first, second or even tenth.

By the nappy bucket
with soap suds and poop
is mine.

Where is yours?

Wednesday, January 2, 2013

Losing


My babes are sleeping, but I cannot

I feel as if I live in this place of constant frustration
Of constant wrestling between two polar opposites
Of constant emotional battle where I never win

I know the unconditional love of Father God, his forgiveness and blessings
Yet my Bible remains so often unread, its life-giving words shut off to my heart

I stare at my beautiful baby girl, eyes bright with wonder and joy, loving my time with her
But haunted repeatedly by news stories, fears and worries, that any moment the enemy could snatch her away from me

Enjoying the freedom of staying at home with my princess, wondering about serving in the community, training so I my photos would pay
Yet wondering if it is mere whimsy, an idyllic life far from my reach, and I need to grasp the financial stability of returning to the formal grind of my previous work

Having the low-key, no worries option of renting, and knowing that my home doesn’t define me
But plagued by seeing more and more friends on property ladder, and wondering if we will ever climb its rungs

My heart cries out to write and write, and dreams of a future, a career, inspiring with pen, bringing life with words
Yet it seems just that, a dream so far away, a joy that can’t rise to the surface on long busy days.

Buts and Yets stutter my growth
As an adult
As a wife
As a mother
They stop me from enjoying where I am
And the future looms its dark cloud over me

I remain restless
I feel exhausted
I wonder if it will change at all
Or am I resigned to a life that just feels this torn
In the losing middle of tug-of-war

Why can’t I be satisfied and just enjoy where I am, who I am?

When will I fully understand,
It is what it is?

When will I rest?

When will I win?