Five Minute Friday: Friendship

Posted on April 26, 2013 by vanderbiltwife

I’ve cried a lot of tears over Chattanooga. Enough that my husband has asked me periodically if I wanted him to try to find a job back in Nashville. I think he’s mostly kidding or at least expects me to say no – although I don’t doubt he would try if I truly wanted to go back.

But my heart hurts for friends. I have lists of excuses. Everyone else here has their whole extended family. Everyone else grew up here. Obviously they don’t need me. They don’t need new friends.

But deep down I always feel like it’s just me. That I’m not good enough.

It took me a lot of years to feel like I had true friends in Nashville, and I miss them. I miss the camaraderie and Chili’s girl’s night out and sharing secrets and hopes and baby wishes and babies formed and born. I miss those new-bride friends, all of us unsure in our roles and making our way in life and marriage.

Finally – FINALLY – the last few weeks I feel like I’m starting to find my place here in this Scenic City. I’ve made a very good friend, one who is broken like me and not scared to admit it, who also happens to have a 4-year-old daughter whom Libbie loves.

I’m connecting more with people – a sweet blogging friend who’s become a close, real friend; some women who also live on this crazy campus. I’m realizing maybe the closest friends won’t be found where I expected to uncover them.

My soul thirsts for friendship and it’s starting to not be quite so parched. I’m refreshed.

STOP.

This week, Lisa-Jo asked for five minutes of writing on “friend” in honor of the (in)courage in real life meet-ups taking place this weekend. I’m excited to go to our local meet-up at Robin‘s house tomorrow!

Five Minute Friday: Grasp

Posted on September 28, 2012 by vanderbiltwife

To understand this, you must know how much I detest cleaning. I am the world’s worst housewife, I’m pretty sure. Given that I have a preschooler and a toddler, I like to blame the mess on them, but really … our homes were messy before kids.

It’s just not my default.

So today, I was virtuous. I vacuumed multiple rooms in our apartment. I washed floor rugs. And I cooked my precious, lovely children lunch. And by that, I mean breaded chicken patties from a freezer bag. Which are apparently breaded with something that makes ALL THE BREADING FALL OFF IMMEDIATELY.

And since my kids eschewed the chairs they were supposed to have lunch in … and since I had a cold and am 15 weeks pregnant and was playing some stupid game online …

My newly vacuumed floor had chicken crumbs all. over. it.

Grasping for straws, people. That is what cleaning in a house with little people is like. I’m bad enough by myself (um, hello people who have seen my dorm room?).

What is that quote? That cleaning with children in the house is like shoveling during a snowstorm?

Captain Destruction: Don’t let his sweet smile fool you.

_______

Sometimes on Fridays, I write for 5 minutes along with a lot of other people at Lisa Jo’s place. This week’s theme was Grasp.

Five Minutes on Story

Posted on July 11, 2012 by vanderbiltwife

Usually, if I’m going to write for Five Minute Friday I actually do it on Friday. But this week’s topic spoke to me and this is the first time I’ve really been able to sit down and write this week! So here you go, Five Minute Wednesday Night.

It’s my story that in the last three and a half years, we’ve gone through job searches, moving three times, and a foreclosure. I’ve given birth – along with $3,000 to my midwife’s office – and at times lost my mind trying to raise two little ones.

Just in the last week, I’ve thrown out my back, had to drive back from Ohio when it almost wasn’t physically possible. I’m moving from one apartment to another with the inability to help my husband lift and a teensy sedan that sometimes won’t start. My husband’s grandfather was just moved to hospice, and we’re supposed to leave on Sunday for a week of vacation culminating in a wedding that I am in.

Today I found myself shouting to my sister on the phone, “WHY CAN’T ANYTHING BE EASY FOR US?” Even the cable hook-up today had misfortunes. There are no outlets in the bathrooms here. I can’t turn around without falling on my face.

So is that my story?

Or is it this?

The easiest part of my thus-far living has been finding my husband, a man who cherishes me beyond measure and far more than I deserve. Together, we’ve made a life (which yes, has included five different homes in under eight years). We’ve conceived and birthed two beautiful, healthy children, and not miscarried. We’ve never lacked for something we truly needed.

Our God has made our paths straight. He has shown us His face. He has picked me up so many times and told me that His yoke is light. Stop putting world-burdens on my shoulders.

I get to choose: dark clouds or sunrise. And I think there’s great power in claiming the positive.

Five Minutes on Identity

Posted on May 11, 2012 by vanderbiltwife

It seems that I’ve spent a lot of time lately typing words into this box and feeling like they’ve turned up nonsense.

More than ever in the past few months I’ve felt that I’ve labeled myself a writer. I have a fairly established freelance career, at least with my former employer. I write for magazines; I write here and on ParentLife; I’m pretty sure that makes me a writer. Not to mention, in my deepest core I know that writing is my passion that intersects with God’s work.

It’s my sacrifice of praise.

But lately, it’s all garbled. I’ve tried to write about blogging. I’ve tried to write about His Word. I’ve tried to write about my kids. And it all comes out confusing and confused.

I write so little that I don’t publish, you might be surprised to discover. I am not a write and edit for hours person. I write; I proofread; I publish. Generally this takes me an hour or so, maybe. Maybe 20 minutes.

Thus what you get here is my natural writing voice, not something carefully constructed with diction and proper punctuation. And when my voice fails to be clear?

I don’t know what to do. I feel a little lost. I will try and edit … but if it didn’t work the first time, it’s rare that I can form it into something that makes sense.

I, of course, have some deep concerns what this might be telling me. Ones I don’t really want to face.

_____________

Well. Always interesting to see what comes out in five minutes. I don’t think it’s a mistake that the song playing on my random Spotify “radio channel” right now is “Let Go” by Matt Hammitt (from an album I am obsessed with currently).

Five Minute Friday: Real

Posted on May 4, 2012 by vanderbiltwife

I’ve thought about turning 30 entirely too much. Enough that it’s become more of a milestone than it is. I have two children, a nearly 8-year-old marriage, a writing career. It makes sense that I would be well into adulthood.

But it still feels strange.

I feel a little worn. More and more OK with the fact that I’ll probably never wear a size 2 or even a size 8, maybe. OK with my frizzy hair and overgrown eyebrows and even OK with my crazy back and its healing process.

I am Beloved–by my sweetheart, by my kids, by my dear friends, by my mom and dad and sister and scores of relatives, and most of all, by my Maker.

At almost-30, I am finally getting the Whole of the Gospel, that it’s so little about me and so much about God and His love and His work. I am vapor. And that’s OK.

Rubbed a little raw inside. Belly stretched from two babies’ growth inside. Freckles. Gray hairs.

Maybe, like the Velveteen Rabbit, I am Real now.

_______________

Sometimes on Fridays I write along with others for just five minutes, letting all the words spill out and refusing to edit them. This week’s topic was “Real.”

New-City Friendships

Posted on April 27, 2012 by vanderbiltwife

Because it seems that five minutes is all I’ve had this week, despite my mom being there for most of it … I’m joining in with Five Minute Friday at The Gypsy Mama this week and writing on COMMUNITY.

My sweet Nashville friend Amelia – and our baby boys in utero

START.

It took me at least three years to feel any sense of true community in Nashville. To make some friends whom I could call at a minute’s notice. When I found out we were moving to Chattanooga, I couldn’t help but feel sick to my stomach. Would I ever make friends again? When it took so long in this, my first post-college experience?

[Just a side note to say no, my kids cannot leave me to write for even 5 minutes today. Or 5 seconds. Libbie is sitting on my feet.]

I’ve made scattered acquaintances here and there in Chattanooga. Church friends, MOPS friends, Moms Club, and – strangely? or not? – blog friends.

It’s amazing, in this life called blogging, that we feel more connected to women across a computer screen than we do to people in “real life” sometimes. Sara came over last week with her 4-year-old and baby, and we talked for hours. Tiffany has become probably my best friend here in this city, foreign to us both. Someone to share 3-year-old perils, pregnancy woes, outing ideas.

When Tiffany was put on bed rest a few weeks ago, she sent me an email and asked if I could bring her some dinners. She knew her limits and her husband’s. As feeding people is my spiritual gift, I of course said yes.

And then, reflecting, thought … that is friendship. And I am glad about it.

STOP.