And now for something completely different:

I'm not generally an introspective person. I'm not very comfortable with myself, so I tend to fill up my mind with tasks, to-do lists, projects - always planning the next five minutes, the next day, the next week. I'm comfortable analyzing myself. I'm an ESFJ, I'm a lion (a task-oriented quick-decider), I know my strengths. But actually spending time with myself, examining who I am and what I want, freaks me out sometimes.

I never realized how much a job joyfully distracted me from such heart-wrenching self-reckoning. Talking to other people, driving to work, and doing my job filled up the minutes of my days almost entirely, leaving me no time alone with my thoughts. While introverts rue their lack of contemplative time, I consider it a delightful bonus; I can glide through my days on to-do lists, never considering my place in the universe.

While I'm certainly not gaining any free time while staying home, I am gaining significant self-time. Not alone-time, when I don't have a baby in my arms/crib/house and I can do what I really want/need to do in order to recharge. But time by myself, alone with my thoughts and a baby who won't be capable of distracting me from them until he's at least ten, and by then he'll have more important people to talk to.* I feel almost as if I've been put in time-out with my feelings. "Just sit there and think about who you are." And who I am is frightening.

When I'm really left alone with myself, I'm plagued by fear. Considering my blessings and my joys only seizes me with the fear of losing them. I live a comfortable life in a beautiful home, but I've read too much dystopian fiction (and historical fact); I know that nations that are rich and powerful can lose it all in a disaster, an uprising, a new emerging power. I have a beautiful baby boy, but I hear reports on the news; children die everyday of hunger, illness, and sheer absent-mindedness, which I've certainly been guilty of.**


I grieve that these tragedies occur and for the people they affect. But mostly I am afraid. I am afraid these things will happen to me. It's an entirely selfish fear; it springs less from wanting to protect Gus and more from wanting to spare myself hurt. I know this because when I examine my fear, when I imagine the worst, the worst is this:

Something terrible will happen, and it will be my fault. I will make some kind of epic mistake, and all my earthly joys will disappear and be replaced by guilt and grief for the rest of my life.***

I try to do damage control. I pray for the victims of tragedy. I donate money and time. I cry. But nothing alleviates my fear and guilt. Confronted with my own brokenness, I can't turn anywhere but to God. I need Him so much more than I ever have, just to get through the day. I need to cling to Him as the source of life and meaning, because He can never be stolen from me (or rather, I cannot be stolen from Him!).


The title of this blog, "A Nice Little Life," comes from John Eldredge's Walking With God:

I want two things that are mutually opposed—I want to live a nice little life, and I want to play an important role in God’s kingdom. And it’s in those times that I am trying to live a nice little life that I make decisions and choices that cause me in small and subtle ways to live outside of Jesus. The shepherd is headed one direction, and I am headed another. Not some flagrant sin—that’s too easy to recognize. Instead, I’m simply wandering off looking for the pasture I deem best. I don’t even think to ask God about it. A very dangerous way of thinking. As Christians we don’t get to live a ‘normal’ life, and accepting that fact in all the details of our lives is what allows us to remain in Jesus. 

In the same book, he writes:


And so God must, from time to time, and sometimes very insistently, disrupt our lives so that we release our grasping of life here and now.  Usually through pain.  God is asking us to let go of the things we love and have given our hearts over to, so that we can give our hearts more fully to him.  He thwarts us in our attempts to make life work so that our efforts fail, and we must face the fact that we don’t really look to God for life.  Our first reaction is usually to get angry with him, which only serves to make the point.

I created this blog to talk about the small things: the to-do lists, the books I read, the places I go. By choosing this title, I was making a deliberate choice to talk about only safe things. Obviously, that's no longer the case. But I felt like this was the only thing I could say without ignoring a huge part of my life for the last two months. (Which is also why you haven't gotten any progress on the to-do list, btw.)

Perhaps I should rename it. I'm open to suggestions.

But even if I do rename it, you can't expect me to think this deeply all the time. It makes my head hurt. Plus it doesn't feel nearly as safe as a cute kitten video.

Love,

Katie

*Gus-Gus is great at distracting me from simple thoughts, such as, "I am going to fold the laundry now," or, "The bathtub is running." As these thoughts are the ones that distract me from deep thoughts, this only complicates the problem.

**The News-Leader reported today that a toddler in KC died after his mother left him in a car. She thought she had dropped him at daycare, and she accidentally left him in her car as she worked an eight hour shift. I can't even imagine the pain she and her family are experiencing - rather, I can imagine, and it's terrifying. See above.

***In my moments of despair, I can attribute nearly anything to a mistake on my part. Terrorist nuclear attack? That's what I get for enjoying American prosperity for too long. Zombie apocalypse? Should have learned how to use a shotgun and stockpiled canned food.

****That and my limited success in accomplishing it. Note to self: stop posting to-do lists, because then people actually expect you to complete them.