Margin: something I need, but also struggle with

Margin: it's something I've written about (e.g. https://mmuser.blogspot.com/2015/08/margin-in-life.html), but not always been good at doing. When I saw this blog post by Beth Bathelemy I was reminded again about margin. Not just how important it is, but why I struggle not just to keep it, but sometimes when I'm in that space of not-so-busy, I feel uncomfortable.

I ran into a quiet spot in my work on Friday
when I was basically waiting for other 
people to do stuff. Margin! So I rode to my
favourite local park for a couple of hours.

But first, what is margin? Beth shared this great quote by Richard Swenson:

“Margin is the space between our load and our limits. It is the amount allowed beyond that which is needed. It is something held in reserve for contingencies or unanticipated situations. Margin is the gap between rest and exhaustion, the space between breathing freely and suffocating.”

When I find myself without much margin in my days, things in our lives get compromised that shouldn't be. That can be important work matters, or it can be family, or not being able to help someone else. Without much margin my health suffers: I don't get exercise, or my eating gets sporadic and unhealthy, and because I'm the manager of our larder and maker of our evening meal, if I don't have much margin that spills over to affect everyone else in the family too. If I've overcommitted, I'm often not sleeping well and responsibilities that I have aren't being attended to. I can't pay as much attention to the people in my life if I don't have good margin and I begin to suffocate and let others down.

I thought I had plenty of margin at the start of August in Australia when I'd planned to start back at work after six weeks off. However, in that first week we had family drama as we had flights cancelled, then rebooked, and then an emotional farewell as half our family flew back to Japan. My middle son and I cleaned and moved into new accommodation, and had to adapt to living with another family. Plus we received a new diagnosis to add to the others our son already has. In the middle of all that I sat back at my editor's desk where a large amount had piled up in my absence. Then my throat and head started hurting and I started coughing . . . and it was COVID. All my margin was gone and it took weeks to get back to a place where margin was again in place. I had miscalculated, but also run into some large, unexpected things. And that's really partly what margin is for: to give room for the unexpected. It's just that, in this case, I didn't allow enough (and of course, it is not always possible to allow enough margin).

As a writer and creator I find I also need margin to think, to ponder, to reflect, and to write. The extroverted part of me struggles with that sometimes, but I'm generally happier and more balanced if I've had time alone to think.

However, I also grew up with a strong work-ethic instilled in me. So these words of Beth's also spoke pointedly, they echo some of the struggles I have when I'm not-so-busy:

Recently, however, familiar doubts crept back into my heart and mind. Am I doing enough? Will this read impressively in my newsletter? Is our ministry fruitful enough? And from this lowly place of insecurity, doubt, and discouragement, I forfeited my margin.

I think it's something that people in ministry struggle with especially. Usually we have a lot of drive, are conscientious, and feel the pressure of the overwhelming needs around us. Consider that we ourselves work in a land where less than 1% of people know Jesus and not many more than that have even heard of him. Plus, we live a little bit in a glasshouse: writing prayer letters every month, and responding regularly to a variety of other requests for information about how our ministry is going. All these things can pressure us to increase the load of what we do until we have nothing spare.

But Beth concludes with thoughts like these:

What if we were to put aside our ill-conceived, worldly perspectives on success and productivity? What if we rejected the false narratives of self-importance and worth based on accomplishment? What if we, like Christ, “self-empty” ourselves unto God?

These are good thoughts. I'm full of pride, I know. I measure my days according to how many things I've knocked off my to-do list. I like to think of myself as productive and useful, skillful and clever. What would it look like to move further away from all that?

I'm reading a short book right now by Timothy Keller called The Freedom of Self-forgetfulness.
Where I left the bookmark last night it says:

"So Paul does not look to the Corinthians for his identity. He does not go to them for the verdict that he is a 'somebody'. He does not get that sense of identity from them. But he does not get it from himself either. He knows that trying to find self-esteem by living up to a certain set of standards is a trap " (p. 28).

Paul and Keller exhort us to let go of the idea that we can get our identity from what others think of us, and even from living up to our own standards. We are loved by God. Not because of what we've done for him, but because of what he's already done for us.

Another book I've finished recently called Gentle and Lowly by Dane Ortlund says a similar thing. Christ loves us far more than we can comprehend, and our response should be to simply obey the invitation in Matthew 11:28: "Come to me."

But, on the other hand I've also realised that God has created us to both do and be. I'm still trying to balance that up, but I don't think this side of heaven I'll get it right. I can recount many times that I've been told or heard sermons or talks that said that we ought not to look at our schedules for our self-worth. But I also know that God tells us to do stuff. Yes, our primary worth is as a human being made by God, but we've been gifted with varying levels of strength and intellect, gifts and talents, wealth and opportunities. God calls us to DO stuff. Not because that's the way we earn his love, but because we love to serve him, but how easy it is to switch those two things!

So, how to live with these two things in balance? How can I be comfortable with "being", with dwelling in that space between my responsibilities and what my ultimate limit is? How can I fulfil my responsibilities without feeling that they add up to my worth, and therefore when I'm not "doing" I still have worth?

These are questions that I don't think I have an answer to yet. At the moment I'm being very careful about what I say yes to, beyond my usual responsibilities. I know that just under the surface lurk things that tap my energy, and often they are difficult to predict. Some days I just feel overwhelmingly tired by 8pm and struggle to get up in the morning, for no discernable reason. I also know, looking ahead, that we've got some big transitions next year that will take a lot of energy.

So, I'm moving ahead, walking tentatively and keeping my eyes on Jesus, rather on my own nervous, flaky self. And surrounding myself with people and habits that will correct my course when it goes astray.

How are you? How do you even answer that?

How are you? Is a difficult question. It often requires one to either gloss over anything that isn't a brief "fine". If one goes beyond that, you have to be careful about "reading the air": is this person going to have the time to hear the whole story, do they even want to know? Or is this just a greeting, not unlike "Hello"? The postman asked me this after lunch, that was an easy one. The guy who sold me the RAT test that several minutes later came back positive, also asked me how I was! 

An array of brightly coloured cut
flowers at a local supermarket
that I enjoyed when I wasn't
feeling up to doing much more
than a bit of grocery shopping.

I'm no longer in quarantine, and more than two weeks past my "positive test day". But I'm not 100% back to my usual level of energy yet. Chronic asthma means my lungs take some time to recover from respiratory illnesses, but this virus has sapped my energy in ways that have surprised me. 

At its height, the illness felt very much like a miserable cold, but the lingering fatigue is different. Twice this week I met friends for coffee or a meal and I lasted about two hours before I was struggling to breath. Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday were busy days with multiple excursions outside the house (appointments with or without my son, church, lunch/coffee) plus people at home to socialise with. These left me shaky and out of breath, or even feeling mild heart palpitations or discomfort in my throat. It's been challenging to balance all I want to or feel I need to do, with the energy I have available. It definitely reminds me of the "spoon theory" and gives me an extra appreciation for the daily struggle that people with chronic diseases or disabilities that sap their energy deal with.

It's now less than two weeks before we have tickets on a flight that will take my son and I back to Japan. This coming Sunday we make our second-last change of accommodation for this trip. We're splitting up. I'm going to stay with a friend and her family and our son will be trying out life in a share house with his brother and some other young guys. It's an experiment that we hope will help be a stepping stone towards independence for him.

Meanwhile, I'm continuing to work as I can on my varied responsibilities in Japan: I'm working on two issues of the Japan Harvest magazine as well as leading the social media team for OMF Japan. 

I'm thankful that I'm able to start most days with a video call with David, the time difference isn't a problem. We're starting each day with Bible reading and prayer, which is normal for us, so is helping to keep me balanced and to catch up quickly daily is also really helpful. He's back at work now and our youngest starts Yr 12 on Tuesday.

It's been good to have time to touch base with a few people in the last week or so and give them a longer answer to "How are you?". But also to be able to reassure them that we're planning to be back in Queensland this time next year, except then we'll be settled here for at least a year and be freed up to catch up with a lot of people. By the way, this coming year is going to be a big one: last year of having a child at school, packing up our home of 13 years, handing over our Japan ministry responsibilities, and settling into life and ministry in our fifth home assignment! 

But I'll be grateful to have August over and be back together with David in Tokyo soon. The prospect of that trip back to Japan is not appealing, it's one of those things that will be better to be in the past instead of the future. I simply can't believe Australians are busting to get back into international travel again, for fun! It really isn't that fun right now. 

However, I have enjoyed the freedom of going out without a mask on, and talking to people without that barrier. Yes, I probably got COVID because of that, but I also may have gotten it anyway. I see the importance of the strategy of masks, but that doesn't mean that I'm really comfortable with wearing one.

Summarising all the above as an answer to "How are you?" is pretty hard...but perhaps the short answer is "I'm doing okay." I'm breathing, my heart is beating, I'm loved, I've got food and a roof over my head. And most of all, I have hope. I was reminded of this encouraging passage again at church last Sunday:

But this I call to mind,

    and therefore I have hope:

The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases;

    his mercies never come to an end;

 they are new every morning;

    great is your faithfulness.

“The Lord is my portion,” says my soul,

    “therefore I will hope in him.”

 The Lord is good to those who wait for him,

    to the soul who seeks him.

 It is good that one should wait quietly

    for the salvation of the Lord. (Lamentations 3:21–26 ESV)

Fighting frustration

I'm trying to sort through what's going on in my head. Most days this week I've felt lethargic and unmotivated. I'm not sure if that's been my body fighting a bug off, or if it's emotional. Possibly both. But I've been trying to write this blog post for days, and I'm not getting much clarity. If anything, I'm more frustrated today than when I began.

Earlier this week we had student-led conferences. I presume other schools have things like this, but I'd never heard of it before I came here. It is a time at the start of second semester, where they get the students to look at how first semester went and make goals for second semester. The goals can be anything from academic to more general self-care (like exercise and sleep). Then the parents are called in to hear what the students have to say (with no teacher intervention). I find it's even more frustrating than being asked to set my own goals. At least then I have some control over whether I work to meet those or not. Alas, looking at your teenager make goals is a very different affair. First it raises your hopes, then, if they don't make an effort towards that goal, your hopes are dashed. And you're left, not just wondering What's the point? but What role should I play here? How much should I get involved?

So, I'm frustrated. And not just in parenting, also with myself.

Some days I feel like I'm plodding along. Just putting one foot in front of the other, hoping I'll get something done, but also beating back the frustration at not being able to work faster or with more enthusiasm.

And then my ADHD tendencies pop up. There's so much that I want to do, yet there's seemingly not enough time, nor enough energy.

Looking up: that's what I need to do. But not at a light!

But that fire that wants to do too many things still burns quietly. This week:

I want to race through my work.
I want to read the riveting book I've just gotten into.
I want to play Scrabble (and watch crime shows, and generally hang-out) with my husband.
I want to sleep!
I want to have a deep, texting conversation with a friend.
I want to get more exercise.
I want to understand more Japanese.
I want to bone up on my understanding of writing and editing (I am in the middle of both a book and an online course).

[And that's just keeping it small. Never mind about the millions dying because they can't get access to clean water—I'm not being trite here, this fact was in my prayer material this morning and I just felt an overwhelming frustration at how little difference I can actually make in this world.]

These are all fine desires, but keeping them in balance is challenging and sometimes I find myself dashing from one thing to another, not really completing anything. Or even wasting time on things that are definitely optional and not on my list above.

It's an ongoing battle, one, I suspect, that I'm not going to win in this world. I will never get enough books read, spend enough time with loved ones, or have enough rest. I will never learn Japanese well enough to be satisfied, or be as fit or as thin as I could be.

However, in the midst of what's becoming a long missionary career, I'm learning (ever so slowly) to be content with plodding. To deliberately take regular breaks—big and small. In my job, that especially has come to mean communication breaks. It means that I rarely look at email after dinner and weekends are also mostly email-free. I've tried to increase that pace, on occasion, and it usually ends badly.

So I'm torn. I plod, yet parts of me want to soar. Why all the dissatisfaction? Is it just personality defects? Or is this a deeper spiritual problem? Or is it just a fact of life, living in a broken world as a broken person?

I'm not sure. I actually suspect it's a combination of all of that. God made me with a wide range of interests and a lively mind, so I tend to jump from thing to thing (makes for challenging conversation, sometimes). God made me with a caring heart and a sensitive soul that tax my limits to help others. But like most people, he's also given me various responsibilities, and physical limitations (the need to take time to rest and recuperate, plus a few more individual limits). I should be longing for heaven: where none of that will limit me.

Trying to conclude this blog post has drawn me back to the book Awe by Paul Tripp again. It's hard to find something succinct to quote here, but I'll take this portion from a chapter that starts by quoting the whole of Isaiah 40 (which is also worth a slow-read, for perspective adjustment):

So pray right now that God would grace you with the desire and strength to get yourself up out of that dark basement and into the comforting and encouraging light of his existence and glory, and believe that you can fly. Not because you understand, are appreciated, or are in control, but because God controls all things, because he is glorious, and because by grace he is all that he is for you. (p144)

Getting back to "normal" gradually

Looking back at the last several days, I can see that we’re gradually getting back into a rhythm of life that is familiar. Indeed, Friday and Saturday were hectic, but full of “normal” stuff like errands on my bike, grocery shopping, cooking, helping out at a wrestling tournament, and interacting with various people in the international community. Sunday was slower, but again “normal” for us in Japan: church in the morning, our usual Sunday noodle lunch, and relaxing in the afternoon and evening.

Friday morning I went to another CAJ prayer meeting, it was an encouragement to pray with other parents for the school and surrounding community. Then I headed off on, what turned out to be, a whole morning of bike-riding as I did various errands and grocery shopping. 

I ran out of energy mid-morning on
Friday, so bought this iced coffee.
Not as nice as a hot coffee when it's
under 10C outside, but it helped when
I needed it.

After lunch I took an hour to rest on the bed, knowing the next day and a half would be very full. After that I put together Japanese curry rice in the slow cooker for the refs and coaches’ hospitality room the next day at the wrestling meet CAJ was hosting. Then I took our youngest to the doctor with a suspected case of the flu. We sat at the doctor’s for 2 ½ hours (it’s a show-up-and-you’ll-get-seen-eventually clinic). He was given a flu diagnosis on symptoms as his temperature had been rising quickly through the afternoon.

Saturday I spent about 10 hours at the CAJ gym. It was great to be there, but I felt fragmented in many ways as there were several things I was involved in: 

• Helping with the hospitality room—bringing food, checking the room periodically, helping solve any problems that emerged, then cleaning up at the end.
• Helping with the administration of the high school event—there’s a lot of writing involved as wrestlers are listed in their weight classes, inserted in a draw, results recorded, bout-sheets written up, etc. All by hand! I didn’t do a lot, but just bits and pieces.

I also tried to meet the parents of new wrestlers as well as cheer for the CAJ wrestlers when they were out on the mat. I had a number of great conversations (as far as the fragmented wrestling-day conversation goes), and met two new families (new to the team as well as to the school). It was especially great just “hanging” with some of our longer-term wrestling-parent friends and also talking with a mum who’s been around at the school ever since I’ve been there, but with whom I’ve struggled in the past to connect to. On top of that I had my own kids to stay in touch with. One with the flu and the other feeling his way around just being on campus at CAJ again. 

It was a satisfying, but tiring day. But it did feel so normal. I had couple of people do a double take as they saw me for the first time in six months, but momentarily forgot that I’d been gone. Obviously we’re such fixtures that it seemed normal to folk to see us!

I’m gradually gaining in stamina. Last week I found myself going too hard at times and then petering out before the end of the day. My emotions are gradually settling down, but I’m still a bit all over the shop on that front. I keep reminding myself that we’re in the midst of transition and that’s going to continue for a while yet, though gradually tapering towards a more steady normal. That’s a good thought.

Today our 10th grade son started back at school. That was another big marker towards getting everyone more established in a normal routine. Our youngest is still out with the flu, but this morning I’ve had downstairs to myself as he slept in and, I presume, has been reading in bed. It’s very pleasant to sit at my desk with no teenagers around at all.

Now I have to get motivated to ride out for some more groceries. It’s a lovely blue sky out there, though I know it is under 10 degrees, I also know that I will be adequately dressed to cope with it. 

Actually that has been a big surprise. I thought that I’d struggle with the significant change from mid-Brisbane summer (around 30˚C) to a mid-Tokyo winter (single digits), but I’ve actually been quite warm. I’ve got no idea what that’s all about, perhaps God’s special grace to me at this time. The other surprise is that three of the four members of our household have come down with colds/flu and I have not. It’s generally me who gets all the colds and the others rarely, but not this time. Of course I might still get it, but I’m thankful that thus far I’ve remained well.

Well, it’s off to put my jacket, scarf, gloves, and ear muffs on.

Limiting our focus

Whoops, looks like I accidentally published this as a very spare draft last week (note to self—change the settings on my phone-to-Blogger interface). I'm back now to pay it some serious writing attention.
____________________

A view from the weekend when we went for a stroll.

I've realized there's some things I don't have energy for right now. Both mental and physical. In order to stay afloat we're very focused. Focused on our family's needs, and the demands of our various jobs. Focused on extended family and key friends. Focused on getting done what needs to be done these six months. A lot doesn't fit these categories.

For example:

• Finding all the deals, at the moment I'm lucky if I get a sale or a good financial deal, but it's not something that I have the energy to wholeheartedly spend time on finding.
• Staying on top of what's going on in both Japan and Australia (though I've been able to drop into see headlines about the dramas in Australian politics today, I'm not particularly interested in finding out much more because I don't have the mental energy).

Probably lots is falling by the wayside. I know that there are people I'm not going to be able to see. We've already had to painfully express this to some who don't live in south-east Queensland. Next weekend is a complex one that I'll explain in another post, but it involves a fair bit of interstate travel and we will scoot past people who we would love to see...but won't.

Another way to look at it is the Spoon Theory that I wrote about several years ago here. At the moment, due to a number of factors, I simply don't have as many spoons as I usually have.

I'm fine juggling lots of things. It's actually my preferred way to operate, otherwise I have a tendency to get bored. But I'm juggling a bit more diversely than usual just now. Here's an idea of what's going on in my weeks:

• preparing for various public speaking opportunities (both the close ones, i.e. in two days, and further away)
• sorting out practical details of such events, such as transport, food, where all the family members will be etc. This includes emails to and from contacts at the various churches/groups
• actually doing the events
• taking care of my family: the usual physical stuff of driving to and from school, groceries, cooking, cleaning (though minimal that it may be), washing, and medical appointments (another blog post, really). The usual psychological aspects of parenting teens. And some less usual psychological aspects of parenting that I've written here about as well as some things I can't tell you on this public platform.
• taking care of myself: including exercise, medical appointments, time with friends, and squeezing in rest time
• Japanese study (yes, I'm still studying)
• editing work from Japan: managing the Japan Harvest magazine and editing for the OMF Japan blog.

Does that cover it all? Mostly. Really, at the moment I'm fighting the urge to curl up on the bed and read my book (or play an addictive game on my phone). But like most of you, there's other stuff that needs doing...it's just hard sometimes to know when to draw the line.

People do wonder what we do when we're on home assignment. It's hard to say what fills up our days. At times I feel like we work part-time. We aren't being paid by the hour and have no idea how many hours per week we work. I have no idea, sometimes, what to call "work" and what to call "rest". 

Yesterday I had an early medical appointment for a routine checkup. The technician asked what I was going to be doing the rest of the day and I was at a bit of a loss for words (seems to be happening a lot recently). I said I had a couple of other medical appointments (which was true), and she countered with, "So, a day off work." I just agreed with her, though for a missionary, getting medical stuff done while on home assignment has a tinge of "work" to it, because without ticking those boxes we cannot go back to our work overseas. So it is work, or is it not work?

I did spend time wandering around a shopping centre in-between appointments yesterday, so I guess that was time-off. Some of it was "work" (e.g. Besides the medical appointments, I sat in a coffee shop and did Japanese study, as well as brainstormed with David and someone else via Messenger about a speaking opportunity next week). So our work looks very different to most of our peers.

But I think I've wandered off topic here. Good thing I don't have an editor looking over my shoulder. 

Focus. During transition (and I think we will be in transition this whole year and a few months into next year) our focus needs to be quite narrow, which means that we pretty much march to a different drum to most of those around us. On the edge of ordinary . . . as usual.

Sprinting long-term

Saying "no" and admitting I need to rest: these things are sometimes easy for me, but sometimes I really struggle to tell them to others. 

I can't believe that just this morning I struggled to admit in an email to colleagues that I needed schedule some rest time on the weekend (our usual time-off as we don't work in a church). It was in relation to drawing boundaries about how much time I could interact with one of them in my house.

I also struggled with the pull on Saturday, on the way home from the athletics meet, to socialise vs not socialise. The trains I took home from the track meet also held friends who I could have travelled with, but I deliberately rode on my own. I wasn't snubbing them, but I was so tired I just didn't feel up to talking for 1 ½ hrs on the trains. However I couldn't tell them to their faces that I didn't want to travel with them, instead I deviously avoided them and hid in the crowds.

All these things are hard for me, at times:

• first recognising that I need to pull back,
• deciding what to say no to,
• actually doing it,

and, when necessary,

• telling people that I have to do it.

Perhaps I'm better than some at this, but I still don't find it easy. I'm someone who has a pretty high capacity for work or at least can get a lot done in less time than other people. But because I live life pretty intensely, I need to schedule in a fair bit of down-time. Or at least it feels like a lot. I often question if it is too much, but then when I ignore my inner voice and push too hard, I find myself really worn out or even sick and unable to fulfil my responsibilities to my family.

I'm much more of a sprinter in this life, and I'm married to a long-distance "runner" who frequently has much more endurance than me, but moves at a slower pace. My lifelong challenge is, how can I sprint, yet stay the long course?

From Saturday, the next fortnight is very full and I know I'll be exhausted, come the 30th of April. Add to that the knowledge that during those two weeks I'll be almost unable to get to my computer for any length of time, so before Saturday I'm trying to get ahead on my editing and other desk-work. Yes, I'm feeling the pressure. Thankfully this week is very light on outside commitments, so I'm working hard and and intensely.

But if you see me, do ask me if I'm taking time to relax!

On this day seven years ago

One of the things I like to check in the morning is the "On this day" on Facebook. It brings up a lot of interesting things that I've posted in past years: events, photos, etc. Because I've posted links to my blog on Facebook pretty much since the beginning, it also shows me those and they can be fun to read also. 

Today I came up with this, a glimpse of what my life in was like when I had 11, 8, and 5 year olds. Sometimes I'm asked about when my kids were younger and even now I can't remember a lot of it. Having written about one particular day on my blog, we can go back and have a peek into life in 2010. Indeed quite different to my life now.

Here are some extracts (for context, we were at a fun sports day for home schoolers, held at CAJ):

Parks were a big part of our family's recreation when
the boys were younger. So much energy!

At lunch-time my kids ate and ran - typical. They really don't eat much at school usually, because there is too much play to be done. However I lingered longer in the bright autumn sun. Eventually I realised that the girls on the next table over were dressed the same, had the same drink bottles, their hair was done in the same fashion etc. Yes, they were twins. 5 y.o. twins. The more amazing thing was that they sat for the entire lunch-hour. Just sat, and ate, slowly. My boys never sit and eat. They squirm, they shove it in and they leave. Getting them to linger over a meal is like extracting a tooth without anaesthetic. Very painful. I can only imagine what it must be like to have children who just sit quietly. . . 

Very soon my eldest was trying to entertain the others by putting the road cone on his head, by playing with water and blindfolding himself and others with the bandanna that awaited us at our relay-station.
My middle son was intense at the games. Competitive to the last. Determined that we obey the rules, even if it wasn't clear what they were!
My youngest was the victim of the other two as well as his youth. He quickly tired of the competitiveness, of the intensity and the pressure. He folded and assumed that it was all too hard. . .

I cannot say that I was having a fun time. Trying to wrestle a balloon off two intense brothers rolling in the dirt. Trying to placate the youngest and stop him being victimised by his brothers. Trying to explain to the middle son that it was okay that the neighbouring team didn't exactly follow the rules. Trying to make sure everyone had a chance to participate. It wasn't fun. . . 

Some people consoled me with the presumption that my boys would go home and collapse. They don't know my boys. My kids are like energiser bunnies and go and go and go. After sports day the younger two went across the road to their usual 1 hour swimming lesson. When they got home from that they wanted to play soccer outside or balloon volleyball in the lounge. It was only when I said that I needed help putting sheets back on beds that they feigned tiredness!
However I was tired, mentally if not physically. We parked them in front of a video for an hour before tea (dinner), just to give us a break and help their active bodies to slow down. Soon they'd rush through another meal and we'd push them to bed (energiser bunnies don't appreciate being made to slow down, they click). Then we could have some peace.

People now say to me, "You're lucky to have such active boys." But I don't know. I definitely feel like it's been a long, challenging 18½ years of parenting so far. I love to see them compete in sports now: I love that all that energy now has a positive outlet (and I don't need to organise or facilitate it). Also, then when they come home now, they are generally tired and don't bounce around like they used to!

Sometimes I'm asked if I miss the times when they were younger and the truth is that I don't. As you've just read, it was an exhausting period of my life. I had pre-schoolers for 10 years and that was long enough for me.

It's also good to remind myself that life is a little physically easier now than it was then, it is easy to forget. What I've forgotten a little, is that it wasn't mentally or emotionally easy back then either. The battles have changed, the boys have gotten bigger and stronger (but not more strong-willed, that's been steadily difficult, I think). It is harder now, though, to make them do things they don't want to do. They are definitely more opinionated and don't hesitate to let us know those opinions.

Enough reminiscing. Back to now. Tonight we have the first wrestling meet of the season (actually just a dual, should be less than an hour). The team is much smaller than last year and it's discouraging to see that. We don't have any of our family wrestling tonight, but I do have friends whose kids are, and I'm keen to sit with them and cheer for their kids. No disguising it—I'm excited to see live wrestling again, though I know it won't be as special as last year, but it won't be as stressful either!

Another messy evening: as I'll make dinner early and people will eat it when they're free (wrestling starts at 6, but two of our family won't be home from school till after it's over and another family member will be home before 6, but out until late as he goes straight to youth group from there, we're not sure if the fifth family member will even leave the house...).

The Spoon Theory

I ran across The Spoon Theory recently, it is a way one lady used to describe what it was like to live with chronic illness, especially invisible illness. It is a wonderful way to look at it. In fact I heard someone recently use "Back points" as a similar analogy to how much she could "budget" in a day for her chronic back injury.

Not wanting to diminish the terrible challenges of chronic illness, I think it is a useful metaphor for being a parent too, or even for life in general.

The truth of the matter is, everyone has different levels of energy, or, we start each day with a different "numbers of spoons". I just read a magazine article about Bec Hewlitt who admits that she has a lot of energy and often doesn't sleep much. She obviously has been gifted with "a lot of spoons". I have friends like that.

When we're young we tend to believe that we have unlimited numbers of spoons. As you get older you realise that isn't the case. For example, if you overdo it one day, you often pay for it the next day, as if you've "borrowed on the next day's spoons". So I guess you could say that as we age we "start the day with fewer spoons".

In my case, when I got married at 24, my husband perceived that I had a lot of energy, "ran rings around me", is the way he puts it. Once I had children that seriously diminished. You can visualise that with the spoon analogy.

Parenting kids "takes a lot of spoons" for me. In my experience, different children cost us different amounts of energy. I have one, for example, who has loads of perseverance. That was particularly difficult as a 2, 3, 4, and 5 year old, especially because he often chose "negative perseverance" i.e. "NOOOOO." He costs me fewer spoons now most of the time, because for example, he'll persevere at his homework or anything he sets his mind to (which is more often becoming positive, helpful things). As the boys grow and mature they're requiring less of my spoons, so I have more energy to devote to other things. I'm really happy about that!

Dealing with an emotional situation also uses up lots of spoons for me. For example, a serious disagreement with my kids, or worse, with another adult, costs me many spoons and zaps me of my energy.

Anything can be factored in here: illness, pain, stress, socialising, language barrier, cross-cultural living, conflict, change, relationships, hormones, roles, activities of daily living (Occupational Therapy talk for stuff that you need to do to take care of yourself and others in your life) etc.

Don't you think it is a useful way to think about things? I can wish I had as many spoons as others, or that what costs me spoons was different. And then there are others who would like my handful of spoons. But in the end I am who God made me to be, with all my weakness and strengths. Somehow I need to come to terms with how many spoons I have and what uses them up. Not forgetting that God indeed is our strength (read: "our source of spoons"). Sometimes it feels like I've run out of spoons altogether and how could I possibly do any more. But you never know when God's going to give you another spoon!

Hmmm, somehow I don't think that would pass as the best theology: The Spoon Theory, but it does helps me in thinking about daily life.

There are times when I can freely offer to do things, because I know that I have a lot of spoons in hand. There are other times when I know that a lot of my spoons are already accounted for and I need to be more careful in how I use them.

At this time of the year my spoons are used up faster than usual, because the boys are on holidays. I have to factor that into my life. So right now, it's just after lunch, I think I'll go and take a short time to chill out on my bed with a book.

Hyperactive, me?

Meredith wrote this great post over here. She's called it "Getting Kids to Multitask". I think of it more as using little physical (but rather mindless tasks) to help them to focus their minds on what was being said.

I've mentioned before, I think, that I'm a rather hyperactive person. When I say that to people who know me a bit, but not very well, they are surprised. I don't jump around, I don't appear to have trouble concentrating. But the truth is, that I do jump around a lot, especially in my head. I flit from one thing to another. It is a pest when I'm doing computer work because I'm easily distracted from what I'm doing by a whole variety of things (while I've typed this post, I've printed out a couple of different documents, read an email, and opened another tag on my internet browser).

And I'm also quite a fast thinker and I get bored easily, that means that I finish people's sentences for them (in my head, if not aloud), that I often grasp the meaning of things pretty quickly and jump ahead too fast in a conversation.I think that this either impressed or drove my Sunday School teachers mad. It can be a big advantage, but it also can be a drag when I'm supposed to be quietly listening to someone. "Be still and know that I am God" is a real challenge for me.

My husband will tell you that when we got
married, I "ran circles" around him. I had a
lot of energy. Kids have slowed me down
a lot, though recently he's wondering if I'm
starting to return to my pre-kids level of
energy. I don't think so yet, they still
drain me lot!

I also have trouble sitting still. It isn't so noticeable anymore, because I've grown up. But if you watched me carefully, I change position quite frequently. Especially if I'm in a less-than-comfortable chair. I used to get in trouble for this in church. Mum hated it. In fact she's told me that if ADD was "invented" when I was a kid, I may have gotten that diagnosis. Probably incorrectly, because, although I have those tendencies, I'm able to manage successfully to overcome them. I had a look here at a webpage on adult ADD/ADHD and it doesn't actually describe me very well. I have tendencies in these directions, yet manage to be fairly organised and self-controlled.

However, back to what Meredith wrote. She talked about giving kids something small to do while they listened to a Bible message or some other lengthy verbal address (like in a classroom). It is a strategy that I've employed for myself quite a lot, and I also apply it to my kids, especially my squirmy, intelligent eldest.

As a teenager I used to colour in the church bulletin to help with sitting through a long sermon. As an adult I take cross-stitch to long meetings. It both helps me to sit still and to keep my mouth shut until an appropriate moment comes for me to speak (yes, that is a problem for me). And I'm not the only one who does this. A leader in our mission knits during long meetings, according to his wife he doesn't knit anything particularly, but just knits for the therapeutic value.

While I'm reading at night time after dinner, if our book happens to be a little bit slow, it can get rowdy and I refuse to read over noise. So often I encourage the boys to do origami while I read. Or some other quiet thing to fiddle with while I read. It keeps them quiet, and yet busy in a non-disruptive (or destructive) way. I really don't like other people reading at that time, I have trouble myself listening to the story without rushing off to do something, so I really do understand how my son feels.

How about you? Do you find you need to do something with your hands to keep your body still and mind focused at times like these? What strategies have you found works for you, or for your kids?

Energy deficit

We're praying for babysitters. With less than 10 weeks until we fly to Australia, we still have so much to do. Weekends are our free-est times, yet we're limping into them and barely coping with getting rest and looking after our children. This last weekend we found no energy left over for packing. There is not much we can cut from our schedule. My husband is required to work and I have children to look after and teach everyday. I have to still feed my family and keep the place reasonably clean (which is not very, compared to some standards). The only thing we can think of doing (aside from praying for energy that matches the task) is asking people to look after our children while we get some packing done. That is all I have energy for at present...now we're off to CAJ for much of the day and several errands too.