Recovery

The first week of January is traditionally my least favorite week of the entire year. Christmas festivities are over and we have to shift gears back to the daily grind. This year I did a good job of transitioning myself gently from Christmas decorations so I didn't get the usual empty hole in my heart when I took down the tree and garlands. In spite of my best efforts, however, I still had a rough week. It wasn't the usual January emptiness; just a lot of pesky little things combined to make this week feel extra hard. My week was full of the everyday type of barriers and burdens, like trying to learn hard new piano music for church, letting Jeff huddle in post-flu-recovery solitude, the joyful female cycle, running for my life from terrifying dogs, and adjusting to the school day routine after Christmas break.

Piano practice was tough this week, but when I shared my photo-d'eloquent-despair, so many dear kind friends responded with encouragement.

My tough week caused a certain scripture story to catch my eye:

For the past few days I have been studying Mosiah chapter 24 and burdens. We can choose either to pridefully shoulder a burden alone or humbly ask (pray) for help. As far as I can tell, the Lord has 4 possible responses: 

1. Give me space to figure out how to bear my burden on my own.
2. Comfort me while I bear my burden.
3. "Make my burden light" while I carry it.
4. Lift my burden--take it away.

God knows which response I need most in every situation, even if his response is different from the one I want or expect. 

When I was considering what God's possible responses are to a "burdened child," I wasn't sure if #1 on my list was accurate. Does the Lord ever leave us alone? To help myself understand this better, I thought about my own parenting: do I ever leave my kids alone to figure things out? My answer taught me about God:

Applicable personal story time! Jay used his Christmas Amazon gift card to buy some modeling clay. He has been building fleets of Greek ships and mythological animals. He proudly shows me each creation and describes all of its features in detail. Two nights ago, Jay left his bedroom door open and Amber crumpled all of Jay's soft clay creations into one messy ball. Jay was devastated when he discovered the mess. He came to me in tears, mourning the loss of all his hard work. I hugged him, said I was sorry it happened, and reminded him gently to keep his door closed in the future (we have a childproof doorknob cover on it). Still crying, Jay went back to his room, and for the next 20 minutes, I heard him struggling to come to terms with his loss and rebuild his fleet. He kept crying out in frustration and I could hear his distress. I almost went to him, but then I paused. He had already come to me for comfort. Now he needed to figure the rest of this out on his own. I listened to his struggles and eventually, he came back out and proudly announced, "I fixed all of my clay things!" I was proud of him for overcoming the injustice of the situation and doing what he could to make it right. That is a tiny example of parenting, but that memory came to my mind when I was pondering God's responses to our burdens.

Does God ever leave us alone to figure something out on our own? My short answer is yes--sort of. In the right situations I let my kids try their own strength and work through a problem on their own, and I think God does too. BUT in that situation, the whole time I am thinking about my child and listening for him and watching over him as best I can from afar so I can provide guidance and comfort as needed through the process. I can see our loving God doing the same thing for us. So in a way I guess that still means that we are never truly alone. The key is that every response God gives is for our benefit, and sometimes he knows that we need space to try our own strength.

This week was a "have some space to try your own strength" type of week for me. I don't really feel that I handled myself exceptionally gracefully through my various little personal burdens. I don't even know how I would  handle a similar week again in  the future, but now on the other side of my tough tiring week, I do feel stronger, braced with a little more knowledge and experience to help me continue onward.

Photos from an hour long winter ramble with Amby on Thursday:

 Skating past the frozen grape vines. I have no clue how Amber didn't slip and fall--it was so icy!

 Forward motion is Amber's specialty.

 Stressing me out, walking on the edge of the frozen canal cliff.

 She didn't want to go home.

 STICKS. Always sticks.

After my yucky week, I decided that Saturday was MINE. Pure, Shaina-rific therapy, all day long.

Ingredients for a Day of Shaina Recovery:

• Quiet
• Alone
• Run
• Nature
• Beauty
• No errands
• No rushing
• Books

Saturday morning after breakfast and a leisurely (surprisingly uninterrupted) scripture study, I put on my running clothes and drove 45 minutes to Badger Mountain in the tri cities. It was a bit of a risk to run up there after this week’s freezing rain and lingering snow, but I’m glad I went. The sun came out almost immediately and by the time I was done running, it was a toasty 36 degrees outside. It was so refreshing not to be shivering by the end of my run! Most of the trail was sunny and squishy with melty snow mud, but the sections in shadow were still treacherously slick—I sat and slid down one part like a slide! Mother Nature’s playground. The entire 90 minutes I was on Badger Mountain was balm to my battered soul. When I descended the mountain I was still Shaina, but a refreshed, invigorated version of her. There’s nothing like a good old fashioned runner’s high! A trail, a view, and vitamin D worked their restorative magic on me.

Mother Nature's slide

After Badger Mountain, I did a wee bit of shopping, picking up some warm gloves to replace my threadbare ten year old pair. I ate a Five Guys burger in the peace and quiet of my car, then indulged in a brief visit to Target, where I browsed my favorite section: the scarves. I love scarves. They are my favorite accessory, the only item of clothing that truly is a one size fits all. I have a satisfyingly sizable soft collection of scarves in a basket in my closet. In the spirit of the Shaina-day, I selected a happy yellow scarf from the clearance section and bought it. Then I headed home.

I did not stress about how long I was gone. I did not even tell Jeff when to expect me home because I wanted TIME to be free and unscheduled. (the blessed man didn't ask) It worked. I felt free as a bird! I did not cut my run short due to time constraints. I was not stressed about getting a pile of groceries and making it home by a certain time. I ambled around and lingered at will. On the 45 minute drive, I cranked up the volume and basked in Vivaldi, Mozart, and Handel. I did not have a million heavy bags to unload when I got home at 3pm.  It was a lovely outing.

Once I had greeted my family, I took a hot shower and put on pajamas (it was nearly 4pm after all) and then snuggled up on the couch upstairs to read and relax. Jeff made pancakes for dinner.

I was at one with the universe.

Saturday was restorative. Much-needed. I viewed each activity as deliberate, necessary self-care. As a mother I spend most of my time taking care of everyone else, and sometimes I guess I neglect to put as much effort into my own wants and needs. It felt good to take care of only myself for a day!

I may not know how I could have done better at hoisting last week's burdens, but I do know that I am recharged, recovered, and rarin' to have a go at whatever this next week has in store!


More pictures from my Badger Mountain run:

[out of practice at the mid-run-selfie game]

Sunshine and smooth trails are on the other side of the shadows.