To Dreadlock or Not To Dreadlock

November 5th, 2011

I recently posted this question on twitter/Facebook, “I’m thinking of doing dreadlocks in my hair. Yay or nay?” I’ve been thinking about this for a long while now, really ever since Thad was born, but recently I’ve actually gotten sort of serious about it. In fact I’ve sort of started them. As you can see from the pictures its not quite dreadlocks yet, but it’s getting there. It just sort of happened. I wasn’t really planning it, but about a month ago I stopped brushing my hair. I still washed it, but I haven’t used conditioner in months and normally only wash my hair about once a week or so. Well, I’d jump out of the shower and one or the other of the kids would need me so I’d just throw my hair up and pretty soon I was noticing that it was sort of starting to dread on its own. And hence the question was born, to dreadlock or not to dreadlock?

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I can sort of see my mom’s look of horror as I write this – of course you shouldn’t do dreadlocks in your hair!!! Get a good easy to maintain hair cut and BRUSH YOUR HAIR! After all she chopped her hair short after having kids, as so may people do. But, I’m not really a fan of the short hair cut, and I’ve always secretly sort of liked dreadlocks. There’s something about them that personifies an ideal I have – a part of the person I’ve secretly wanted to be, but I’m not quite sure I really am.

To me they are characteristic of a natural, earthy, hippie. I’ve always had a little bit of a hippie bent to me and it’s only gotten stronger in recent years, but I’m not sure I’m really hippie when it comes down to it – natural, YES; earthy, a little bit; hippie, well maybe.

But, then there’s the other things that dreadlocks personify to me… Words like bold, culturally brave, and a little bit rebellious. Those are words that I would like to personify, but deep down I’m not sure they are really me either. Sure I’ve been known to make some decisions that go against the norm, like long term breastfeeding, tandem nursing, and natural home birth. But, bold, brave, and rebellious aren’t really words I’d use to describe myself. I was the kid who rarely got in trouble because my own guilt and desire to be liked kept me well within the lines. I still have problems speaking my mind (well, at least in person) and rarely stand up for myself or my ideas when face to face with an authority figure. I’m not bold, brave or rebellious, but I’d like to be a little more that way. I want to be able to hold my own in a conversation, defend my believes, fight for things I care about, and openly go against the grain when I feel necessary. Maybe there’s a part of me that wants dreadlocks because I think it would be a good practice in pushing myself to not just blend in, bend over, or get out of the way. It would be a practice in pushing myself out of the box. I even think that the fact that it would cause some people to make preconceived judgements about me might help me to be bolder. If they have already pre-judged me as a hippie, then it would free me up to let some of my more hippie tendencies out.

But, then sometimes I wonder if my wrestling with this question is, on a much deeper level, me wrestling with the self that I want to be and the self that I am. There is a big part of me that wants to be that hippie, crunchy, mama. You know, the one with four or five kids all birthed at home, who sews her own cloths, grows her own food, cooks using only organic and local ingredients, home schools or unschools her children, spends hours just playing and ramping through the woods with her kids, doesn’t have a tv, has chickens, makes her kids toys from natural materials, bans plastic, allows her kids to self-wean, is artistic, has an active yoga practice, parents gently, is in touch with nature, her own femininity, and God…and the list goes on. There’s a part of me that holds up this ideal, but there’s also a growing part of me that is starting to feel that although I may like that ideal and may even do some of those things at one point or another, it’s not really me, at least not completely. The truth is I yell at my son, I hope I’m never pregnant again, I don’t know how I’d keep sane without sesame street and other PBS shows, I occasionally warm up our food in the microwave, I have the worst brown thumb ever and kill everything I try to grow, we have plastic toys, I don’t know how to play, I’d probably be happier inside with a book than outside getting bit by bugs, I love convenience and speed, I can’t afford to buy all organic, and at least at the moment I am completely out of touch with God, nature and myself.

Maybe I want dreadlocks because I feel in some small way it would be like affirming and taking a small public step towards the self that I want to be. Or maybe I want them because I’m in denial about the self that I actually am… I don’t know. What do you think?

Rejoicing in the journey -
Bethany Stedman

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Our Year Without Church: A Change

November 3rd, 2011

The Beginning: A Relief

When we first stopped going to church I thought it would be temporary. It would just be a little breather to regroup, heal, and refocus. It felt good, refreshing. It felt like a good decision. Even most people we talked to about it (including a christian councilor we saw) said it was perfectly fine for us to have a little break from church and would be good for us. At the beginning it felt freeing to just stop pretending and stop going. For the year or so before this we hadn’t really been going consistently anyway and hadn’t given any of ourselves to that church. We said it was our church, pretended it was our church, but it wasn’t really and it was nice to finally admit that and just stop going. It was also nice to not look for something new. I didn’t want to look and just feel discouraged and disappointed in my expectations.

The Middle: Guilt

After a while the relief left and I started to feel guilt. Ok, taking a little break from church was fine, but now it had been long enough that it didn’t seem so much like a short break, it seemed like it was time to start going to church again. I didn’t really want to, I didn’t feel ready, but I felt like it couldn’t be right for us to go THIS long without church.

If we had been living in one stable location, the guilt would have gotten to me and this is when we would have started looking for a church and probably ended up just going somewhere because of the guilt instead of because I wanted to or because we found someplace we really fit. But, thankfully we were in a transitional stage and location, so I sat with the guilt. And something started to happen…the guilt started to lessen and another feeling started to grow…

Today: Desire

Today I miss church. There’s a growing part of me that wants to go and looks forward to finding a church home once we move up to Seattle. I miss having that weekly touch point with God and community. I don’t know what that’s going to look like right now, and honestly I don’t want to rush into anything. Maybe it just looks like going to church wherever Bryan’s family or friends go for a while, so that we can quickly get acclimated back into a church community. Or maybe it looks like taking our time (perhaps even another year) to explore churches and theologies, trying someplace new most every week so that we can really figure out what we believe and where we want to invest ourselves. Whatever we decide I think it will definitely mean showing up open to God using whatever he wants to use in the place that we are.

We didn’t plan to go a whole year without church and there have been many weeks when I’ve questioned our decision to stop. At times I’ve let the guilt win and we’ve had the occasional Sunday at a church (3 times to be exact). But, I’m glad now that we didn’t rush back into weekly attendance prematurely. I’m glad that we stopped going to church, because now for the first time in a VERY long time I really WANT to go to church.

Rejoicing in the journey -
Bethany Stedman

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Our Year Without Church: A Slap In The Face

November 2nd, 2011

It has now been a year since we stopped going to church. Well, not completely without church – we did go three times to other peoples churches. But it’s been a year since we stopped even trying to go to church, stopped looking for a church, stopped asking each other if we should go to church this week.

Just writing that causes me to feel a mix of emotions – hurt, sadness, guilt, fear, and even pride. Around this time last year I wrote a series of posts with my thoughts on church and I asked the question, “why go to church?” many people gave me wonderful responses to the question, but none of their responses were MINE. I needed to come to my own answer to the question. I needed to sit with the question for a while.

This question and I have now been stewing together for a whole year. I don’t really know if I’m closer to an answer, but I know that I’ve been through a process, a metamorphosis in my feelings toward church, over the past year. I want to share where I’ve been, what I’m coming out of and where I am right now.

Why go to church? For most of 2009 and 2010 my answer to that question when I was really honest with myself would have been “for the Stewarts”. The Stewarts are dear friends of ours and I went to church for them – To see them, to support them, to live up to the expectations I imagined they had for us. I knew it wasn’t the best reason to go to church, I mean really it was sort of like the high school boy that goes to church just because the girl he has a crush on is there. But, I figured it at least got me there, right? Looking back perhaps God taking them away from Prague was as much about him saying to me “Bethany, I want you to go to church for me, not for anyone else. I want you to seek me more than you seek community and belonging.” as it was about anything else.

Wow. Do you ever write a sentence and then realize you hadn’t thought of it before, realize that your own sentence just slapped you in the face? That just happened to me…”I want you to seek ME more than you seek community and belonging.” Ugh. I think this post is about to go in a complete different direction. I was planning on writing about the change that has happened in my feelings toward church, but I think that will have to wait till next time, this post is going somewhere different, so hang on for the ride…

Community. Belonging. Connection. The words haunt me. I search for these things, I long for these things, I always have. I’ve had moments when I’ve caught glimpses of it -moments when I felt connected and like I belonged somewhere. Most of my life I’ve felt like I wasn’t quite right, or didn’t quite fit, but there have been moments when that changed and I felt like I could be myself someplace. There have also been certain people who just always made me feel like I belonged with them, like they were part of this long lost home, this community that I was looking for. But, even when I had those moments of knowing such deep community, and that sense of belonging I longed for more of it. I wanted to hold on to it, capture it, and never let it go. I wanted it to never change, never dissolve, just grow stronger. I didn’t want boundaries, I wanted interdependence.

Having tasted those moments made it so much harder when things did change. Having seen glimpses of what I had been longing and searching for made those times when I didn’t have it completely heart breaking.

It’s why graduating high school was so hard for me – I went from a small school, being part of a super close knit community, feeling like I belonged and was connected to feeling alone, isolated and uncertain of my place in the world.

It’s part of why I still haven’t completely healed from the Springers leaving Prague and the ramifications that had for our community/church life.

It’s why I long for traditions and hold on to family heirlooms, because I feel that they give me a small sense of belonging and place.

It’s why the Stewarts having to leave Prague was so difficult for me to accept. Our sense of belonging and community was so closely tied with them…and then they were gone.

And I think it’s also part of why I’ve struggled so much with becoming a mom. Motherhood can be lonely and isolating and I hadn’t expected that. I thought that becoming a mother would be like entering a new community of belonging. At a time when I most expected, longed for and needed to feel connected, I instead felt isolated and alone.

I want deep, authentic, real, community and belonging. I long for it with my whole being. I search for it. For some reason I keep expecting to find it in the church, and wanting to find it there, believing that is where I should find it, but being disappointed and heartbroken each time that expectation fails. I do believe that the church should be a family, that we should find community and a safe place with our brothers and sisters in Christ. I do believe that my longing for community is right, and good, and from God. BUT…perhaps I have allowed it to grow too large. When I seek the all elusive “community” I so often end up empty. When I look back at those times when I did experience community, I realize it showed up most when I wasn’t looking for it. It showed up when I wasn’t trying to conger it up but was instead focusing on other things.

I realized as I wrote that sentence “I want you to seek me more than you seek community and belonging” that I’ve allowed my good desire for community to become an idol of sorts. I’ve expected church to meet my longing for deep authentic community and been disappointed. Instead of allowing God to use it in my life as he sees fit, I’ve placed expectations and a box around how I think God should use church in my life. If God doesn’t use church to meet my inflated need for belonging I blame the church instead of more humbly opening up my expectations and allowing God to do as he sees fit, belonging or no belonging.

Rejoicing in the journey-
Bethany Stedman

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Liturgy of Blessing for Sage Eleanor

October 29th, 2011

When my son was born my husband and I wrote a liturgy capturing things we hoped and prayed for him. It was our way of blessing him and claiming certain qualities that we wanted for his life. We have prayed it with him on each of his birthdays, each time making minor adjustments to it to capture our prayers for that current year. It has been a really beautiful and powerful experience. As soon as I found out I was pregnant with Sage I knew I wanted to do the same for her. So, we started talking, praying, dreaming and, of course, writing. And we again ended up with a liturgy of blessing that captures so much of our heart for this child.

Last weekend we prayed through this liturgy with a small group of people and today I wanted to share it with all of you.

Blessing for Sage Eleanor Stedman

Celebrant:
“The blessing of Christ comes to you in this child.
His blessing is mercy and kindness and joy.
Blessing comes to home and to family.”

Celebrants together:
Joy come to you through this child.

Mother and father together:
Joy come to all through this gift.

Mother:
Begotten through love she is birthed into loving arms.
Shaped in darkness she comes forth in light.
Formed in secret she is fully known.

Celebrant:
May She smile with the light of the sun.

Celebrant:
May She dance to the song of the stars.

Celebrant:
May She move with the grace of the moon.

Father:
She is light, joy, and wisdom.

Celebrant:
Light shines on the righteous
and joy on the upright in heart. Psalm 97:11

Grandmother:
God’s light shine on you, child.

Father and Mother:
We bless you, sweet daughter.

Father:
I bless you, my daughter, may you laugh joyfully with the sun.
As the warmth of the sun Brings health, growth, energy, and delight to all those who bath in it’s rays,
may you bring healing to the hurting,
inspire growth in the floundering,
lend energy to the weak,
and bring delight to all those who meet you.

Mother:
May your judgement be unclouded, your intuition vivid, your contemplations enlightened.

Celebrant:
Joy of salvation be upon you.

Celebrant:
With joy you will draw water
from the wells of salvation. Isaiah 12:3

Father and mother:
We bless you, loved child.

Mother:
I bless you, my daughter, May you dance lightly with the stars.
As a stars light only reaches it’s full potential when combined with the light of others,
may you always surround yourself with others who shine of light and love and equality.

Father:
May you be open and inviting towards all you meet, welcoming all into your heart with a gentle and contagious joy.

Celebrant:
The light of Gods presence be upon you.

Celebrant:
Blessed are those who have learned to acclaim you,
who walk in the light of your presence, LORD.
They rejoice in your name all day long;
they celebrate your righteousness. Psalm 89:15-16

Father and mother:
We bless you, precious gift.

Father:
I bless you, my daughter, may you sing wisely with the moon.
As the light of the full moon is luminous, reflective, and far seeing,
may you be luminous with a subtle yet radiant beauty,
insightful and keen to pick up on things that are missed by others,
and far seeing in your ability to comprehend and understand that which is beyond comprehension.

Mother:
May you be wise beyond your years and joyful beyond your circumstances.

Celebrant:
Wisdom of heaven be upon you.

Celebrant:
The law of the LORD is perfect,
refreshing the soul.
The statutes of the LORD are trustworthy,
making wise the simple.
The precepts of the LORD are right,
giving joy to the heart.
The commands of the LORD are radiant,
giving light to the eyes. Psalm 19:7-8

Father and mother:
We ask that Gods blessing be upon this child and His loving arms always around her.

Grandfather:
How priceless is your unfailing love, O God!
People take refuge in the shadow of your wings.
They feast on the abundance of your house;
you give them drink from your river of delights.
For with you is the fountain of life;
in your light we see light.
Continue your love to those who know you,
your righteousness to the upright in heart.
May the foot of the proud not come against [this little one],
nor the hand of the wicked drive [her] away. Psalm 36:7-11

Father and Mother together:
We lift up this child to you, Lord.
We recognize that she is your gift to us and that we are only stewards of her.

Grandparents:
“The blessing of Christ comes to you in this child.
His blessing is mercy and kindness and joy.
Blessing comes to home and to family.”

Father and mother:
We lift up this child to you, Lord.
And give her the name Sage Eleanor Stedman
And pray that she would live up to the meanings and significances of her name.

Father:
Sage means wise, prophet, and aromatic herb. We ask that God fill this child with wisdom. That she would be prophetic, and insightful. We also ask that she would be a sweet fragrance going up to the throne of grace. That she would be an aromatic blessing of joy and comfort for all who come in contact with her.

Mother:
Eleanor means light, or one who is bright, or God is my light. We ask That Gods light would fill and radiate out of this beautiful little girl. May she be a shining beacon of light amidst a world that can at times seem dark and disheartening. Eleanor also has another meaning. In Greek it can mean pity. You are not a pity, my daughter, and it is not a pity that you have entered our family. But, we do claim this as part of your name in a very specific manor. We pray that you would take pity, compassion, on all those who live in the darkness of hurt, anger, and discouragement, and that you would bring light and joy into their pain.

Celebrants together:
Welcome, Sage Eleanor Stedman,
child of love.
We welcome you with open arms and hearts of love.

(Open prayers for baby – whoever wants to can pray as they feel led)

Father:
Gods favor be upon you, daughter.

Celebrants together:
Gods favor be upon us all.
Amen.

Rejoicing in the journey -
Bethany Stedman

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A Reset Button

October 22nd, 2011

When I was younger so much younger than today, I never needed anybody’s help in anyway. But, now these days are gone I’m not so self assured…

Its nap time. Thad’s asleep and Sage is is also drifting in and out of consciousness. As I sit here with images from the morning dancing around in my head I’m wishing I had a reset button. I wish i could change this morning, I wish I could change almost all of the ways I’ve interacted with my son in the past twenty four hours. But, I can’t.

…But, every now and then I feel so insecure, I know that I just need you like I’ve never done before…

As I sit here I kept thinking about these two prayers I wrote when Thad was little. I just read them again and this sentence jumped out and almost screamed at me, “I need you to show me what is really required of me so that I don’t heap unneeded guilt upon my own shoulders or the shoulders of those around me.” I realized as I read these prayers how desperately I need God to infiltrate my parenting, especially in this area of guilt and the expectations I place upon myself.

Help me if you can I’m feeling down, and I do appreciate you being round.

This morning there was a moment when I hid in the bed room and cried for a minute, when I thought to myself, “I need someone to talk me off a cliff…” I almost called a friend, but it was six thirty in the morning and even though my day had started two hours earlier I knew not everyone else’s had, and besides the courage it would take to make that phone call and admit I needed help – not I had needED help, but I need help, right then and there, before sunrise kind of help…well… that’s not the kind of thing you’re really suppose to ask someone for. So, I sent up a desperate prayer, “Lord, help me.”

Help me get my feet back off the ground, won’t you please, please help me.

And slowly, quietly help came, not in the way I’d wanted but in a gentle shifting, it came.

Something sunk in for me in a new way today – the power of the present moment. I was sitting here regretting my actions of the morning, a little upset with myself that I hadn’t worked up the courage to call for help, and I realized afresh that what I was dwelling on was futile and emotionally detrimental to my health. I can’t push a reset button. I can’t change the parent I was in the past…but, I don’t have to let that influence, and even dictate, the rest of the day or the parent I’ll be in the future. I can choose to dwell on my feelings of guilt, to hold up an image of myself as “the worse mom ever”, or I can choose to reset my attitude and focus. I can’t start over, but I can start anew from this moment.

Most days I’m not who I want to be or where I want to be, but I’m realizing (slowly) that I don’t need to be. I am me, here and now, the best me I have ever been, and I am becoming.

…But, now I find I’ve changed my mind and opened up the doors.

Rejoicing in the journey -
Bethany Stedman

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