Last month was March (I know big shocker). But what didnt dawn on me until now is that Scott and I have been together for over 2 years. Actually our anniversary is this Thursday (bigger shocker). If you had told me 2 years ago I’d be married to my friend Scott, that we would get preggo before we were married, have a baby boy, that I would no longer have my video job, but I’d be working for a church I’d only kind heard of. If you’d told me while I was preggo I would do a handful of months as a telemarketer, get a Rottweiler, and learn to actually like my mother-in-law I would have run screaming in the other direction. So here I sit at our kitchen table – a bag of goldfish to my right (my husbands), to the left a diaper bag overflowing with toys and Gerber Graduates finger foods (sweet potato and banana), and Maggie our Rotti sleeping on my feet. Its hard for me to wrap my head around everything that’s happened in such a short period of time. When Scott and I started dating I knew it was going to be something big, but it never really sunk in even when we were engaged that we were actually going to get married. I dont think I even really knew what marriage to Scott would mean. And even now watching him fill his water bottle and get ready for bed I almost cant believe we’re married and this is forever. But at the same time I can already see us old together telling stories of our first years to anyone who will listen.

Its so easy to focus all my attention and emotion on my little family. But over the last few days I’ve been struggling with taking an honest look at myself. I mean who am I now? Well, I’m Mrs. MacPherson, and I’m mom, I’m the director of video at the Green Campus for The Chapel. But that’s just my name, and my child, and my job. But if you take all that away who am I? Well I’m a person who has a few very close friends who I really love. I like crafts – you know silly stuff like crochet and scrapbooking. I love my dogs and I enjoy working with them to achieve something. But all that is exterior really isnt it. I mean my friends are great, but they are they and your friends dont define you. And being crafty is great, but its just a thing I do. And pets are nice, but they are hardly my definition. So when you strip away my title, my responsibility, my job, my friends, my hobbies, and my companions what are you left with? Well I’m tired, I’m hurt and angry, I’m self conscious, I’m afraid, I’m unsure, I’m cynical, I’m apathetic. But those are emotions arent they, just a reflection of how I feel at the moment, but they arent who I am.

See people are always telling you about themselves, describing themselves with these kinds of things. I’m a runner, or I’m a pastor, or I’m a mom, or I’m a serial killer. I mean all of those things are descriptive, but they all have to stem from something. If you strip away the emotion what are you left with?

Just a soul I guess. I’m a soul. Because when its all over its just me and my soul, which I guess are the same thing. But what is my soul then? Because I love my husband and my son, but they can only go as deep as my emotions. I’d die for either one of them, but that doesnt mean they are my soul. I love my friends but there you go emotions only again. My job certainly isnt my soul, and my hobbies and pets are really just an extra outlet for those emotion things.

So here I sit, just me and my soul. And I have to wonder, if it takes that much work to pay attention to it what kind of shape is it in? I mean the soul is the core, and if the core is in bad shape the rest of the apple aint doin so good either. But here comes the tricky part. Because I come from Christianland. And in Christianland if you’re a Christfollower your soul should be taken care of. Bought and paid for with the blood of Christ you know. Your soul is washed shiny new with that baptism water and go and sin no more. So here’s a packet with a list of serving opportunities – sign up next week after you’ve prayed over it and we’ll get you started saving all those poor sinners out there who dont have their lives together like you and I do. Because we’re Christians and our souls are in that lockbox marked for heaven, but everyone else’s still needs loving care and attention to get them on the right track so they can start being door greeters like you and me.

So about 5 seconds after drying off from my baptism I was whisked away into the video ministry where I spent the next 10 years doing hard time. Now no one made me do this mind you, it was just a natural progression of things. But my soul was left with the towel wondering where the heck I went. After I got “saved” I really never paid any more attention to my poor soul. Cause its ok for saved people to have problems you know like, wanting to love Jesus more, or forgiving a friend who hurt you (usually an “unsaved” friend), learning to love your parents more, and hurting for the poor and helpless in the world. What I wasnt able to say (or just didnt have the guts to say) was how fake I felt, and how little I understood my new faith, or how much I was starting to disdain the church. I grew up in it for heaven’s sake…. I knew what was expected of me, and everyone knew that I knew, so they figured I was covered. Christians love to hear in church the testimony of other Christians who fell off the wagon and are back on it now. They do not like to hear about how you fell off the wagon and oh by the way you’re still off the wagon a little hand here…. no, that’s not the idea. So like I said about 5 seconds after I dried off, I fell off the wagon and nobody ever noticed. You would think they would have (you know with me sinning left and right you know) but they didnt. So now 10 or so years later I’ve picked my soul back up (and I’ll tell you she was ticked that I left her standing outside that baptistery for so long) and we’re going to have a long talk about how to get her patched up again. Its the how that’s the tricky part.

Its one of those late nights and I should be in bed but instead I’m staring at the 4 walls of our living room and combing through other “moms” blogs. Why do we as women compare ourselves to each other? Why do we rate ourselves as moms? I mean really if there was ever a job where no two are even remotely alike its the job of being a mom. My kid is completely different than yours, God knows my husband is not yours, and I should know by now that I am not you. I’m not creative like you, or thin like you, or as short as you, or as blonde as you, or as poor as you, or as wealthy. My scrapbook pages arent ever going to look like yours, It is not warm here today. My dogs will NEVER be as obedient as yours. And who is this all knowing all seeing all loving mother that I compare myself to? She’s not even one woman really! She’s the blogs I read, the pictures I comb through. She’s the one who takes those awesome day to day pics. She’s the one who creates and designs and inspires the people around her. But does she know that she’s that cool to the people who see her? Or is she sitting at home too wondering why she cant be more like that mom she reads about who does Yoga with her babies and they all love it.

When am I going to learn to stop focusing on the creativity of others and figure out my own instead. Why do I feel this need to be more like women who I envy and less like myself? Why cant I see that there is nothing wrong with being me? I bet that if I just stopped looking at what everyone else was doing and instead focusing each day on what inspires me I’d do some pretty neat stuff. And really that’s all I want to do, stuff that makes the lives of my family a little more colorful, a little cleaner, a little brighter. What do I need to do I wonder to finally stop caring about how I rate, or what people think, or whether or not I’ll ever be one of “those” moms who can seemingly do everything and who seemingly is always creative and who seemingly is always dancing to a one of a kind song only she can hear. When am I going to learn I’ll never be that if I’m singing Karaoke to someone else’s tune.

I’ve been watching Idol Gives Back and its messing me up. They just finished a segment on malaria in Africa, and there was a woman in a hospital watching her daughter lying in a coma from malaria. The girl was 8mos old. A month and a few thousand miles separates that baby girl from Connor.

A different time or place and I could have been the mother sitting at the bedside wondering if this child would die. Mothers should not watch their babies die. Our hearts were not meant to take it. 13 million orphans in Africa from AIDS. And I’m upset that I’m stuffing all of my son’s stuff into my little car. Gosh I’m so disgusting.

Its not the end of the world but you can see it from here – Robin Williams

Its a Saturday morning and I’m sitting here with my cup of coffee and Scott is working on the electrical. He’s puttering around fixing this and that and I think I love him The dogs are playing with bones and chasing each other around the house. Connor is down for a nap and there is peace.

So I’m sitting here at my computer and I throw some music on – In my stack is an old Chris Tomlin CD (Arriving) and I think “Wow I havent heard that in a while… I’ll listen to that” And just like that I’m back in the old building at First Christian in the chapel listening to Derek sing these songs for Tuesdays. I remember Adam as a grump (but not really) and Julie bringing whatever was for dinner that night.

I remember feeling so apart and at the same time so a part. I wish now that I’d gone out after the service was over, I wish that I’d met people and had a good time. I wish I’d seen how many people reached out to me. But at the same time I dont want to change a thing. Isnt it funny how a time can just rush back at you? I can see the lights and smell the room, and taste the Dr. Pepper I’m sure I was drinking at the time. I can remember exactly how it felt to walk through the sanctuary to my car. I can feel how cold it was outside and what the upholstery of my car felt like as I sat down to drive away.

Then like waking up I realize I will have the same feelings years from now about the moment I’m in right now. I’ll remember the sound of Tomlin on the stereo, the smell of my coffee, I’ll remember exactly what was on the table around me. I’ll see the toys on the floor, and hear the dogs barking and feel the affection I feel right now for Scott as he hums along with electrical wire in this hands. This is how it feels to know a moment. When God says he knows us this is what he’s talking about.