On Thanksgiving Day, my parents took the older two kids out for a couple of hours so I could have some quiet. Finley was asleep when they left, and after I shut the door as they left, I found a quiet house. I knew I had some cleaning to do, a table to set, and some remaining cooking to do. Instead, I sat on the sofa. I spent a few minutes just breathing, in and out. Then I did some reading and praying. In the process of sitting calmly, I found myself thankful for being able to choose “calm in the calm.”
This is something I’ve been considering lately. Quiet is a choice. It’s not so much about “finding a quiet moment.” Quiet is there, and I have to choose it, and plan for it. In some cases, like last Thursday, I’ learning to choose calm when the house is quiet. In other instances, I have to plan for quiet.
We live in a society of constant stimulation. I often find this to be a distractor to me, and to my ability to parent my kids. They live in a world with so much to see, hear, experience. Have you noticed how even children’s choirs ask kids to sing louder and louder? My kids think you have to BELT OUT the words of a song. They have a hard time sitting still. They want to be in motion and talking ALL THE TIME.
I long for the quiet moments. And I’m working on cultivating that discipline in the context of my family; not just for myself, but for the children, too. It takes creativity to get there. My attempt to mandate calmness (tell them to be quiet, etc.) just doesn’t work. So I’m looking for something different. Currently, “seeking quiet as a family” takes the form of advent celebration. I bought an advent wreath to put on our table. At dinner time, I designate someone to light the candle and dim the lights. Something about dimming the lights, reminding the children about “advent,” Jesus’ coming to us, changes the mood. We pray at the beginning of the meal that Jesus will be with us, and fill our hearts with His love, and that we will share it. Then as we eat we discuss our Jesse tree devotion. At the end of the meal, the other child is responsible for selecting a Christmas hymn for us to sing together and extinguishing the candle. I always hope for more Jesus at Christmas, less consumerism, and a heart that embraces the humble birth of our Lord. This seizing of calm, planning for quiet, is helping me experience that.
A few days ago, as I was thinking about my growth in being able to “choose calm in the calm,” I was reflecting on the next steps towards a fuller embracing of calm. At first I thought “calm in the chaos” was next. First, master calm in the calm, then move to calm in the chaos. But after some thought, I realized that I generally do choose calm in the chaos, at least on the surface. Sure, there are times when I lose my temper (and moreso in times like this year of deployment than under other circumstances). But I am used to operating in chaos. I am pretty comfortable with having a lot going on. Actually, I prefer lots going on and find it hard to be satisfied with less activity. I remember feeling somewhat depressed in summers as a child; without the busy pressure of school to keep me occupied, I didn’t know what to do. So, for me “Calm in the chaos” was Calm 101, and “Calm in the calm” is Calm 102. The next item, then, on my “syllabus” is “Cheerful in the chaos.” Not just calm. Not mechanical. Alive and cheerful, even when surrounded by whatever the chaos may be. Yet still looking for moments to slow down and enjoy life at a slower pace.
I’ve had several moments this weekend to practice this. As a side note, I’ve been feeling quite burned out. We hit 11 months of deployment this week, and it’s wearing on me. So, I decided yesterday to take a break from cooking. I took the kids out for lunch AND dinner! We picked up lunch to bring to a park (and had to return to the drive through window TWICE because items were missing from the bag!) Then, as soon as we got to the park and had the food on the table, Jamey wet his pants. This never happens, and I did not have a change of clothes. So, we ate and left. I promised to take them back after Fin’s nap. Through all of this “chaos,” I found myself calm. God’s blessing to me in the context of crazy circumstances in the past few days (alongside little sleep) has been a spirit of cooperation between the kids.
I’ve realized I do much better with circumstantial chaos than I do with relational chaos. Relational chaos makes me feel much more angry and out of control. That is, a messed up drive through order is not likely to irritate me. Sibling rivalry, breaches of communication, words that hurt, etc. are much more likely to get to me. I digress.
Tonight we were supposed to attend our Community Group Christmas party. About 10 minutes prior to time to leave, I decided it was unwise to take the kids back out. One child (a non-napper) woke up at 4:45 (!!!) this morning and was exhausted. And the other was indicating she had reached the end of her daily rope. So, I called a friend to see if she would pick up our contribution to the party food, and we planned a calm, home party (dinner with the advent wreath, puzzles, UNO, and book reading). I did this because I knew that I had not been very calm today, and I sensed that the kids needed me to be calm with them in order to settle them down. So, here is an example of planning for calm.
There is something about this phase of deployment (nearing the end) that is causing me to think about a lot of things. I know this has been a long post, but writing it has helped me think through my reactions to life and my need to both plan for and learn to choose calm.
“Be still and know that I am God.” Psalm 46:10
