Mary vs. Martha (for discussion)

A bit of Bible background: Jesus went to visit some gals- Mary and Martha.  Mary "got it", and spent time sitting at the feet of Jesus and enjoying being with Him.  Martha, however, was more pre-occupied with making sure "stuff" was ready for Jesus' visit.  She wasted time she could have spent in the presence of God by cooking and cleaning.  More info?  Check the story out here or here.

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I live with a schizophrenic view of neatness.  I was raised in a home that was BEYOND clean and organized.  I tend to think that my cluttered-ness is a form of childhood rebellion.

On the flip side, I can't stand clutter.  (See above: raised in a home that was BEYOND clean and organized.)  I feel like I handle life better when everything is in it's place.  I have a love affair with my label maker and Rubbermaid bins that is often unhealthy.  No shopping experience brings me greater joy than stores like "The Container Store" or "Hold Your Own"... and when Oprah gave away new closet systems?  Sigh... a dream.

But in reality, I am a cluttered girl.  I am a hoarder of memories... I have boxes and boxes of pictures, old letters, and things from days gone by.  I have realized recently how silly some of my hoarding is and have purged loads- purses I won't use again, things I was saving for projects I honestly know I won't complete (that topic alone is a post for another day), shoes that aren't going to be worn, magazines I thought I would re-read... stuff like that.  But honestly?  I have a LOT of stuff.  As my heart has realigned in the last few years, my love of "things" has shifted- but I've still got a lot of them.

Herein lies the problem...  I have a lot of junk in my house... but I hate the junk.  I also let it pile up, but can't stand that it piles up, and I go on a bender cleaning.  And such benders put me in horrible moods in the moment (sometimes), but leave me with great moods when I'm done cleaning.  My friend Krista said today (while we were talking about this whole phenomenon) that maybe it's possible to have a Mary-Heart while I'm doing Martha-Activities... and honestly, y'all, I don't.  Sometimes in the moment of the routine (dishes, laundry) I can be in that zone... but when I tend to clutter that has gotten overwhelming, the Mary-Heart is gone.

So here is my question to you- how do you deal with mess?  How is your heart in the midst of it?  Do you like it?  Loathe it?

Fill me in people... I need your wisdom.

Gifts

*No worries... this is not a blog post about how people should or should not "do" Christmas gifts.  There are loads of you who are likely still unwrapping the piles of gifts at your home.  There are also some of you have chosen to forgo traditional gifts and instead spent today making homemade soap and weaving baskets for the needy.  I am equally jealous of both traditions.*

Merry Christmas, Bloggitty Blog World.

Today has been for us, well, near perfect.  Many of you have felt the same way.  (Thanks to FB, I feel like I celebrated Christmas with many of you, too.)  The snow in NC set the stage for some magical Christmas moments.

This year, the Johnston family took a new spin on Christmas gifts.  Because of my love of all things gift-giving (like, seriously, I lurve giving and receiving gifts), we decided it was time to reign things in before they got out of control with Miss E.  While I am not disciplined enough to subscribe to the soap-making bent, I whole-heartedly understood my need to reel things in a bit.  We stole borrowed this idea from someone else, and it fit our family perfectly.  Each of us (E, Dan, and myself) received 4 gifts: Something you want, Something you need, Something to wear, and Something to read.  Glory.  Shopping with a purpose?  A theme?  Bring it on.

The majority of gifts for E and Dan centered around our upcoming Disney trip (or their mutual love of all things Disney).  My gifts were, quite honestly, some of the most special- and thoughtful- that I've gotten.  The surprise gift (Dan and E both totally had me fooled on this!) was my first (and second, and third) piece(s) of art from Sam, The Dot Man.  Super.  Tears.  Perfect.

So, given that there were only 12 gifts to open amongst us (and Santa brought the 2 things E'd asked for), the frenzy of present opening in our house was over rather quickly.  It's amazing to me that when the last gift is opened my heart immediately reverts to how it did when I was E's age and realized the last gift had been opened... in full disclosure, I have a moment of sadness.

We inventoried our "loot", ate breakfast with my mom, then sadly told her goodbye as she headed west in hopes of beating the snow.  Before I even had a chance to feel sad with our quiet house... it happened.  My Christmas Gift began:

Peace.

Rest.

Joy.

Through the drama and the fun of the last few weeks, God knew I needed some rest.  And today, of all days, He gave me the gift of it.  We laid on the couch.  We watched movies.  We organized our purses... okay, that was just me.  We bathed our dogs.  We listened to a Snow White CD in E's room... multiple times.  We snacked.  We ate.  We laughed.  We kissed.  We hugged.

And that, my friends, was a gift.

I have always longed for a big family.... a house full at the holidays.  And, yes, over a period of time, we've had that full-house.  But today- on the day of my Lord's birth- He gave me what I needed rather than what I thought I wanted.  He gave me peace.  And with it I got rest.  And with that, I got joy.

My delightful daughter was the perfect picture of a child on Christmas today.  She wore her PJs all day and played with her toys 'til she could hardly play anymore.  My Christmas gift to you is to share with you some of her loveliness... butt crack and all.  In this scene, she was taking her new "Tangled" doll outside to play with her.  Well, that's what I thought was happening, which is why I asked her if she needed a coat.

After the shot ended, she told me that was all she wanted to do... she just needed to take her doll outside because (she thought) it sings "now I see the sun"... and she wanted God to hear it.  (Hence, the raising to doll toward heaven.)

Joy to the world.  Merry Christmas to all.

Exam Time

In college, my roommate and I had a GREAT diversion tactic.  When it was exam time, that was obviously the best time of the semester to rearrange our dorm furniture.  By the end of the Reading Day(s), our room was newly arranged and fairly clean.  Completely logical.  Who cares that instead of said-arranging and cleaning we should have been studying, right?

The last week of my life has felt that same "crunch" as exam time.  I hosted Book Club last week, prepared for a large Christmas Party, had the College Students over on Sunday night, spent a super fun day playing with my child yesterday, not to mention shopping and wrapping presents in the mix.  We are fortunate enough to host both sides of our family in the next 2 weeks for Christmas, so the house is in the midst of getting ready.  Oh, and that party we had?  When things weren't quite ready for guests to arrive, we did the appropriate Martha Stewart cleaning method of shoving stuff in the guest bedroom.  Now, we have the dilemma that people will be staying in that cluttered room in 48 hours.

This past week I've been fairly diligent with my time.  I've cleaned when I needed to, not because I'm that "on the ball", but because there was no other option.  I've stayed on top of food prep, keeping our main level clean, and kept up with what was important.

Today, it's a different story.

In two hours, I will head to Asheville for Mary's Celebration of Life.  Both she and my Daddy had decided they didn't want traditional funerals, nor did they want to do any sort of "visitation" at the funeral home.  Having participated in too many in their past where families were forced to publicly grieve with people they may or may not have been close to... well... it just wasn't "for them".  Now, six weeks later, there are those of us who have felt like "something" needed to be done.  There is no intention to go against Mary's wishes- yet we all need to celebrate her life in a way she would love... with a party.

As I've sorted through the pictures we'll share in a slide show, my heart hurts and is full all at the same time.  And while I now sit here blogging in my pajamas rather than getting ready to go, I feel a little like it's exam time.  I *should* be cleaning my house.  I *should* be putting away laundry.  I *should* be doing lots of things... according to my to-do list.

Looking back on college, maybe rearranging our dorm room wasn't as important as, oh, I don't know, studying for my exams.  But today, I've learned enough to realize that my to-do list is not as important as looking at those pictures... remembering those moments... enjoying looking at Mary's sweet smile.

For those of you who will be there today, you'll see all of the gems that we "borrowed" from her computer and photo stash.  But for the rest of you, here are some of the moments I'm enjoying this morning.

my Step-sister, Leigh, with her daughter Charlotte ("Charlie"), Mary's Mom, and Mary

Mary's Red Hat ladies... who also are some of Candler Elementary's best ladies

Mary in co-pilot status on her way to Hilton Head... 

not many of us are lucky enough to be flown to vacation!

in March of this year, giving "Bibby" a late Christmas present...

her very own Coach purse!  

(she needed a treat to be a big girl since Mommy was going to have surgery the next week)

E and Dadaw at their pond

Mary's FB perfect profile pic

Mrs. Morgan and Mrs. Piercy

(Mary and her teaching partner, Sandy... we found LOADS of great shots of these two)

Stan's new girlfriend with the roses he sent to school

Mary's last trip to Charleston, Sept 2010

It's funny to think that a two and a half hour segment of time will be "enough" time to celebrate this lady's life.  We could gather for days and days and still think of more stories to share.  But, just like exams, the rest of the world continues to move at a pace that the rest of us are expected to keep up with.  My house will need to be cleaned and laundry will need to be put away.  But for today, it's all about Mary.

Tears, laughter, and all.

How I miss that lady.

Wait... was that about me?

I have laughed lots over this season of blogging at comments many of you have made to me-
"I better answer my phone or you'll blog about me being a bad friend."
"I was going to tell you that, but I was worried you'd blog about me."
"If I tell you this, swear it won't go on your blog."

People... puh-lease.

This magical space on the interwebs is for me to get out my junk.  Not for me to rat you out for your junk, criticize you, or make fun of you publicly.  (Unless you are Wes, then it's fair to mock you in any forum possible.)  Yes, some of you spark the responses I give... when I'm hurt by your words or actions, though, it doesn't make me want to talk bad about you, it makes me want to figure out why I responded the way the I did.  I have said on multiple occasions this year that people's lack of attention to my needy self has caused me to realize I am just that- needy.  It's not always about you, people... it's about me.

One of the things I am learning is to not be passive aggressive in life.  This has been my language of choice (or by default) for seasons of my life: you wrong me, I'll sit and wait for you to figure out what you did wrong before I talk to you again.  You don't include me, fine... I won't include you either.  You hurt my feelings, I'll pout or ignore it completely rather than not confront it.

That, my friends, is crap.

It's wrong, it's juvenile, and it's wholly not holy.

While I am still working out the kinks in this, I am here to tell you this is not what this site is for.  I may choose to be passive in moments when it is appropriate... but my days of being passive aggressive are done.

So when you read something I wrote and wonder "is that about me?"... it may be.  But in all honesty and total disclosure... it's way more likely about me.

Carry on with your life, friends... and, again... Jenny?  Answer your phone or I'll write a full piece about you.  It will be titled "Why Jenny continues to hurt my feelings" or "Why am I still friends with Jenny?"  (I said I would be less passive aggressive... I never promised to be less sarcastic.)

This I know...

In college, my roommate pointed out that I broke my day down into segments.  When she asked "How was your day?", a 'normal' person would say "good" or "bad".  Not me.  I'd say "well, my morning kinda sucked, but lunch was fun, then the afternoon I was super sad, but I went to Franklin Street and ran into Eric Farmer, and that made is wonderful!"  Yep.  Not normal.  But it's kinda always been how I've seen things... in segments.

I'm feeling now like that was part of God's plan for getting me through this season in life.  While I'm generally a "glass half full" kind of girl, today I've been living in the "half empty" part.  I'm well aware that His mercy and grace is still abundant in my life.  But to be completely candid, this has been a hard day.

It's hard for me to grasp that Mary's only been gone one month... but yet this is the first of a lifetime of months without her.

It's hard for me to hear my Dad cry on the phone.

It's hard for me to clean my house when all I want to do is sit and smell one of the sweaters I brought home from her closet.

It's hard for me to want to talk about anything but... well... her.

This is not a cry for help.  This is not a cry for sympathy.  This is not a cry for anything other than... a cry.  While my heart hurts, I'm still surrounded with joy, love, and friendship.  My Birthday Bubble continues this week.  My Christmas Bubble started this past week and I'm super excited about all the events that are upcoming.  Seeing family and friends... having parties... wrapping presents?  Those are all segments I look forward to and long for.  Yet my heart hurts for my Dad, my family, for me.

On a good note, my sweet E has returned.  After a week of pure hell for her (and me), she's back.  Today was near perfect.  We started our day with the discovery of Fisbee- our Elf on a Shelf- which made her laugh hysterically before school.  He was sitting on top of our kitchen cabinets in a feed box from my grandparent's barn along with another one of our good buddies.

Her laughter is infectious.

E wanted to have a "sleep over" tonight on the floor in front of the fireplace.  From the looks of my sleepy eyes, you'll not be surprised that I fell asleep just after we laid down.  She then proceeded to cover me up with every blanket she could find and pretend to give me oxygen so that I could have a baby (Cinderella doll.)  (We just looked at all of her hospital pictures- complete with the boob picture- and she's all about having a baby.)

I put her to bed, came back downstairs, and she came down just a second later to tell me I'd forgotten to put lotion on her.  (She recently re-discovered the Johnson & Johnson Calming Baby Lotion and is a wee bit obsessed with it.)  She told me that I really needed to put lotion on her so she could be calm.  Anything for you, Baby Girl... especially when you have accessorized your pajamas.

Even during the last week when she was a pain, she had some precious moments.  One day she told me she wished she lived in Asheville so that she would have known Nanny as long as I'd had a chance to.  Me too, Baby Girl, me too.

I don't imagine the days will get easier for a while.  Things like Elizabeth Edward's death set me back in ways I can't even describe.  And I don't expect them to get easier.  Shoot, I don't even know that I want them to completely... the hurt in my heart causes me to remember Mary's laugh and to continue to fall into the arms of Jesus.  So in moments like this, I will cry when I cry and laugh when I laugh.  I will continue to break my days and weeks up into segments.  In the good, God is there.  In the bad, He's there with even fiercer love.

And in moments like these when I don't know what emotion is next, this I know:

It is well with my soul.

Best Dinner Conversation Ever

Tonight we enjoyed a fully logical conversation with our four year old about which college she should attend---

Me: Well... it depends on what you want to do when you grow up, really.
E: I want to be a Mommy.
Dan: Then go to Carolina.  They make the best Mommies there.

I'm going to throw up now.

Warning... this post is not for the faint at heart.

I have vivid memories of embarrassing moments in life.  6th grade, tripping in front of the boy who would later be my first kiss.  7th grade, falling in front of the entire 7th grade UP a set of bleachers.  College, well, just college.  (Seriously... were group dates a good idea?  And why did I cut my own bangs that time?)

Then tonight... the mother (ha) of all embarrassing moments.

Earlier tonight I was going through some CDs looking for some Christmas music for a friend.  In my attempt to be all things organized in 2011, I found some photo CDs in the midst of music CDs.  Not only did I have to move them, I had to look at them, right?

I got sucked into over an hour of old memories... baby showers, E's first days, tailgates from long ago, old college retreats.  So, the logical thing to do was share these old memories with Facebook... and tag people.

Thanks to FB's new photo loading deal, several would load at a time, then magically on my end, they would be there.  Who knows how it looks in FB Land during the upload.  And, you know, given how I was searching through CDs as they were uploading... well... it took me a while to go back and forth between the CDs and Facebook.

On one of these "brief" moments... I saw it.

Seriously.

My boob.

Seriously.

On Facebook.

Seriously.

In a moment that would make Jesus and my Momma blush, I hit delete on that picture then immediately IM'd my BFF "bleep! bleep! bleep! my boob was just on Facebook!!!!"

Yep.

Apparently, when I thought I was uploading picture number 246 of my Dad meeting Elizabeth, I was actually uploading 146 of... me... nursing for the first time... in the hospital.

(I just threw up a little in my mouth reliving the moment when I discovered this had hit the mainstream.)

Obviously, the first question would LOGICALLY be, why would one have a picture of said-boob when no one EVER should see such a thing.  Best I can remember, Dan took non-stop pictures that first 24 hours.  Later, when my screen saver would randomly show things I didn't remember ever being taken and I questioned him on it, I *think* he said some bull-crap along the lines of "It's natural" or "One day Elizabeth will enjoy seeing this."

What he did not say was "Someday you'll accidentally upload this to Facebook and will relive every moment of horror in your life all rolled into one as you realize that someone, somewhere saw your boob.  On Facebook."

While I agree with him that it's natural and all that junk... it was NOT. MEANT. TO. EVER. BE. SEEN.

So, to the unknowing person(s) who saw more of me than was bargained for, I recommend going to your living room, picking up your Christmas tree, putting just the tip of it in your fireplace, then taking that flaming tree and shoving it straight in your eye.  Gouge out that image... just as I try to burn this day out of my memory, too.

Let it be known that there is NO irony in this happening on the day that I professed love for Facebook.

Let it be known that there is NO irony in this happening after I mocked a college student last summer for accidentally showing her goods to us on the river.

Let it be known that my life is officially over.

It was so much easier falling up the bleachers.