Author: Michele Minehart (Page 171 of 311)

do you suffer from RLS?

According to whatever manual doctors consult (HB, help me here), RLS is now a diagnosable affliction. Which is astounding. Not once have I verbally communicated to my primary care physician about the fact that I’m bored in life. However, I believe myself to be a sufferer of Restless Life Syndrome. 

You know what I mean (I mentioned it the other day), when you start scouring the interwebs for the Next Great Thing, be it a job, a Ph.D. or a craft project. Or even a new haircut. Or outfit. Though my Lent restrictions have kept this pretty non-material. 
Part of the solution might be to STOP READING. I just picked up Radical and frequently play the fool’s part when I raise my hand in steady Amens. This, coming right off the tails of 7. If I were allowed to make the purchase, Barefoot Church would be waiting in the wings (can you believe the library doesn’t have a version for loan? Jen, what can we do about this? And did you notice how I just referred to Jen as if we’re on a first name basis? Well, we ARE facebook friends). 
Most remarkable is how my readings continue to widen the gap between where I am and where I want to be living. We finally have a house fit to host guests, steady jobs, well-behaved kids and the student loans paid off (private schools, may you have a private place in purgatory). Just when I should feel most settled, I’m ready to jump out of my seat at night. Much like the diagnosable RLS, it’s like an itch you can’t scratch, but it’s somewhere in your soul. 
The problem, my friends, isn’t diagnoses. It’s treatment. What do I do about it? I have an impending sense that it has something to do with being a good neighbor and living amid this new neighborhood and all that jazz. But not in a smile and wave kind of way. I believe God wants us to dig in. But as I say in about 84% of situations nowadays: What does that look like? And how do I squeeze that in between naptimes? 
The other looming conundrum: I need a people. A tribe. A support system. Folk who know I’m funny and don’t think I’m weird. That will push me when I need pushed and hold me when I need held. People who remind me I’m not always right and that everyone need not be just like me (oh, can you imagine even if there were more than 5 of me? Implosion. The world would implode due to noise and arm waggling). 
A quick Google Maps search of churches in town yields 39 results. And that doesn’t even branch to the nearby towns, like where the Big Church is. So why is it that I can’t seem to find other bodies of people who suffer RLS tendencies? OR, if they do, why aren’t we talking about what it means to live on a mission, even when it counters the American Dream? 
I’m not giving up on the current Sunday morning situation. But I’m not satisfied. And I know that I need to be, as KLR likes to chide, “part of the solution, not part of the problem” but I’m not sure how to jump in the pool and 3 months later start making waves. I’m pretty sure that it’s clear in the Church Finding Manual that making waves is frowned upon. 

here, try this: you’ll loooooooove this (all for $19.99)

While taking a hiatus from buying, I’m more prone to notice how often someone wants to sell me something. Every morning my inbox fills with at least 15 offers to save money by making a purchase. This is not a new trend for Lent; I’ve received them for some time. However, they have a different feel when you automatically delete without finding out what Zulily has on special that day – you might be missing an amazing deal on snow boots or swimsuits, you know. 

Another place that I’m more aware of being seen as a customer is in the bloggy world. I subscribe to a large number of blogs about everything from education to moms in LA (because my life is SO similar) to food and, especially now, grain-free recipes. I even follow one that tends to be an end-of-the-world-er, but he’s got so much great information on gardening, composting and living self-sufficiently. 
However, most of these bloggers are hopeful to make a buck while they put their time into it, so they have conferences to promote, ebooks to discount, even product giveaways to earn loyalty. Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for these writers and small business owners making their living doing what they do; however, I’m aware I’m not just a reader anymore. I’m in the pool of consumers. 
One blog in particular (that I love) is geared toward getting more organized. She provides a lot of helpful information on organizing and gaining control over your life. Yes, she even has an ebook to walk you through it (a new task every week). The reason I really appreciate her, though, is because rarely when she gives direction in an organizational goal does she require that you run out and purchase something. Instead she gives many options of looking at what you currently have and repurposing it to meet another goal. Much of what she suggests has more to do with rearranging habits in your life as opposed to where you put the electric bill. This is in direct opposition of what I find in the home-party sphere. So many of these wonderful companies want the same end goal for customers (a more organized life) but rather than focusing on the skill, they focus on the product. We begin to believe, “if i just buy this, I’ll be better at….”
And we’re quite wired to believe these patterns work. That by owning, shopping, buying, consuming X, our life will change dramatically. This is how commerce in our society keeps moving. And the more I see it, the less I trust it. Right now, the surest way to loose my confidence is to offer to sell me something. You might be right – a change in my life might be needed. But a product is not going to fix it. 
This morning I read God’s words through the prophet Joel: Change your life, not just your clothes. Come back to God, your God.” (2:13, I have no idea whose emphasis – either the Hebrew or Peterson’s). I thought to myself, “if this were written for the younger context it would say, ‘change your life, not just your music’ because so often we place a marker on the shift from secular to Christian music, especially in the life of young people. 
But though music is good, it doesn’t change your life. God’s not selling a new product to try to make life better; he’s looking for a different pattern of life, one that is consumed with the presence of Christ. God doesn’t want the same, slightly improved version of yourself in a gaudy Christianese tshirt. He wants to know that the seed that was planted is growing into a tree that bears the fruit of love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, faithfulness and self-control. 

jump around, jump around

Once every, oh, 2 months I begin to get a bit restless in my life situation. Some people rearrange furniture or paint a room or take up a new workout routine. I tend to daydream about projects that generally involve people around me and large amounts of capital. Exhibit A: so far this weekend, I’ve wanted to start a school and plant a church. 

God give grace and patience to my husband. 
On the one hand, those dreamy notions come as a reaction to the status quo. I’m just not loving what I’m seeing and experiencing. And I’ve heard about places where it’s better. Where people thrive at work and play and service and learning. So I think to myself, “Self, why don’t you just start one like that?”
And I answer myself (as only crazy people do), “because you have no education background, save your BLOG READING, and you have zero desire or the required skill set to pastor a church.” 
Oh,  yes. THAT. 
But yet I really want these things to exist, so it leaves me sitting in a seat of antsy discomfort, like a pair of jeans from your senior year in high school, that though technically you can fit in them, it’s obvious to everyone that perhaps they should seek retirement. 
When my husband’s restlessness kicks in, he seeks out houses or businesses to buy (he clearly married into the right family). Once, cousin E explained that when the boys get these itches,  the good wife learns the art of when to squelch and when to let dream because he clearly won’t follow through anyway. It seems it’s good to let the dreaming happen, but more wise to stomp on things once the checkbook comes out and if he can make a good case, then maybe a check can be written. (In the case of B & E, she’s quite obviously been very wise in her stomping and allowing discernment). 
I would hope that JJ would employ some of this wisdom, allowing me to keep dreaming until I’m leasing large open spaces. This would be most optimal. 
Instead, he sends me links on “how to start a Waldorf school.” 
Fortunately, RAB told me they were selling the space I’ve always had my eye on for my endeavors, so I can hold on to hope that I won’t get too out of control. Which is a thankful thing for nearly every person reading, because all of my schemes generally involve the skills and involvement of people I know and really like. As KLR can attest, a brilliant idea generally involves labor on her part. 
So here we are, greeting Monday. I wonder what genius the next 5 days will bring. 
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