Sometimes we don’t want to be right here.
While that is perhaps the most obvious statement of the century, it’s true that one of the greatest hindrances to being right where we are is that sometimes, for seemingly small or large reasons, right here is not a place we want to be.
Over the next two days, two stories about the fight to stay right here and the grace found in staying put.
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I’ve known some whining in my day, and I can outright tell you it is one of the most trying parts of motherhood for me.
I have one daughter who doesn’t major in the whine. She’s more a drive hard with your opinions and lawyerly arguments kinda gal. And another who whined hard for years, though we never could figure out the pay-off. And a third who doesn’t often whine, but when she does, look out because she’s got stamina, people.
In the grand scheme of things whining is minor. Life is filled with hardships that put whining to shame, but sometimes it’s the daily nits, ticks and irritants that make it most difficult for me to stay right here.
Big pains and losses will likely cause me to lean hard upon God because I am so aware of my inability to navigate and endure alone. But the small irritants of life that seem so petty — those are the situations I’m more likely to try plowing right through.
So on an average Thursday morning, when hardcore whining commences, growing in intensity with the hours, I put on my just-keep-it-in-perspective hat, give myself an internal pep talk: This is no big deal. It will pass. Go to your happy place. Ignore it. Focus on something else.
I employ my strategies — pretend I don’t hear it, give alone time, redirect to gratitude. Nada.
The grating moans and long suffering baby voice do not ever stop for long and continue pummeling me like an unrelenting rust storm.
Perhaps largely due to my highly sensitive, difficult to block anything out nature, I cannot ignore the whine, so I try to endure the slow moving corrosive force it is. Check my phone for distractions. Eat chocolate. Hide.
Sometime in the midst of enduring, the words right here pop into my awareness, and I think it might be a good time for an experiment, as I’m telling you all about right here every single day (and at some point, I might run out of things to write about).
First, it becomes clear that we need to get out of the house, and so even when it starts raining hard, I am not deterred, walk to the back of the yard to the stroller’s shelter while telling myself, It’s ok. Be where you are. You’re alright. It hurts, but you’re doing what you need to be doing.
I tell Lala to get her coat and boots on, and I wonder how I am going to endure more complaints about the weather and the stroller that is borrowed and “not even ours.”
And then I remember something I’ve been forgetting — namely God. Hello.
How’d I miss the Power and Grace that extends from grandest canyon to smallest creature?
Well, I had.
I pray:
Thank you, God, that I’m not alone.
Help me, God.
Help me find beauty in this.
On the return walk to the house to get Lala and lock up, I spy the raspberries I’d walked right past before. These jewels always surprise me when they hang from the branches so late in the year, but here they are again.
Deep, ripe, huge berries uneaten by bugs or mildew.
I stop in the pelting rain. Pluck them one at a time and savor slowly — receive the simple goodness of the moment. This provision that sees me right here as juices pop in my mouth.
I eat one after another.
The whining does not stop, but so extravagantly am I fed that nothing could taste better.
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Stay tuned for Part II tomorrow. Another epic whine (but not such an epic-ly long story). Let’s just say it’s possible that whining doesn’t belong exclusively in the realm of children.
Linking today with Emily and Jennifer.
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This is Day 8 of Right Here. Throughout October, I’m joining with a community of other bloggers (over 1,500 strong! with The Nester), who are writing for 31 days about the same topic. To find all posts in 31 Days of Right Here, click here, or see the listing below.
To continue receiving these daily words, subscribe to this blog on the sidebar at left, click here to Like Draw Near on Facebook or follow me on Twitter @AshleyMLarkin. I’m immensely grateful to have you on the journey with me.
POSTS IN THE SERIES
An introduction: Welcome to 31 Days of Right Here
Day 1: For You, Too
Day 2: Fear’s Invitation
Day 3: My Portion
Day 4: Five Minute Friday – Write
Day 5: Rise and Shine
Day 6: My Joys Mount As Do the Birds
Day 7: A Mother’s Fierce Love
Day 8: When Life’s A Mad Rush – How To Slow Time
Day 9: The Fight For Right Here Told Through Two Tales of Epic Whining (Part I)
Connecting through the power of stories written, spoken and lived
![Sometimes nothing says it quite like the way of a child. Before the rest of the house wakes, I read the account of Easter morning in the Jesus Storybook Bible: "And it seemed to [Mary Magdalene] that morning, as she ran, almost as if the whole world was singing for joy-- the trees, tiny sounds in the grass, the birds...her heart." The tomb is empty. Jesus is alive, and so are we. And it is new. Once again. Yes, it is always new...He is risen indeed!](https://scontent.cdninstagram.com/t51.2885-15/s320x320/e35/17934124_1877271335863004_8139172358331039744_n.jpg "Sometimes nothing says it quite like the way of a child. Before the rest of the house wakes, I read the account of Easter morning in the Jesus Storybook Bible: \"And it seemed to [Mary Magdalene] that morning, as she ran, almost as if the whole world was singing for joy-- the trees, tiny sounds in the grass, the birds...her heart.\" The tomb is empty. Jesus is alive, and so are we. And it is new. Once again. Yes, it is always new...He is risen indeed!")
Awe.some!!! You make me laugh, girl. You always have. I know this is “serious” stuff, but you have a way of sharing the right here woes, the so-called petty things that can loom so large at times as to completely obscure the ever-present beauty (and this is quickly entering the land of the run-on sentence that Miss Scholastica Murty warned us about!) but anyway, you just tickle me! I loved this post, Ashley, and I can barely hold my horses til tomorrow’s! :) xoxo Your happy mama, whose only complaint (whine!!!) is that she hasn’t a raspberry in the world!
Warning: You are about to read something that will sound trite and corny.
On the serious side of your post, there is something so “miraculous” happening in every single moment of our lives. You’re so right Ashley that we tend to muscle through the ordinary yucky challenging moments in a day, not calling on help. (hello!) But as soon as you did (and you’ve illustrated the point so well!) ripe, juicy, perfect berries “appeared”. Though they’d been there for days, they didn’t “appear” until you asked the miracle-maker into your “right here.” At that moment you became “present” to the miracle that was.
I LOVED THIS, Mama! Thank you for crystallizing what it is that I experienced. You know how good it feels to have one you love echo back to what they hear. :) Gift to me today.
loving reading this post about whining…
can’t imagine what it might be like to endure the whines of children…
this isn’t advice….but I am just wondering
do you ever just join in??? see if you can out-do their whining?
i relish just indulging in the whine, to the extreme and then i always end up laughing at myself…it feels so good….
i can imagine you and your girls have a “whine-fest” and ending in a pile of laughter…
You are such an amazing mama!
I agree, Angela! Yes, long ago I tried that whining with, and it was so satisfying! Felt so good to give voice to it and then yeah, we did dissolve into laughter. How have I forgotten? I’ll need to bring back the whining party!
love this post Ashley (loving your whole series, actually…)!! I have 2 whiners with stamina and to be honest- I can be a whiner.
thank you for making me feel normal. =)
So glad you’re here, Lori. Oh, I am with you, sister. Working on my whine…it can be intense (and a hard habit to break)!
Loving this example of God’s goodness in the middle of our mess!
So many examples of this, aren’t there, Elizabeth?
Can’t wait for tomorrow’s tale, too. You’ve name it for me… the thing that makes me feel crazy and shamed all at the same time- some days, I just don’t want to be RIGHT HERE. And, yet, right here in this present moment is where I find Jesus, the I AM. If only I have eyes to see. Love this series, friend. Keep writing.
Thank you, Alicia. Oh, how I get this struggle…every day. Soul sisters we are. Thanks for all the encouragement to keep the words coming. (I’m pooped!)
You’re inspiring me to find beauty in my own right here. Sick mama and kids means lots of extra cuddles, jammies all day long, some time to just BE and not DO, loving care from my four year old’s tickles and rubs to relieve my headache, and hearing my daughter say, “my pit is being sick but my cherry is being with you today.” Taking time to recount my blessings this morning. Thank you!
I especially loved the “check my phone, eat chocolate, hide” sequence—you made me laugh out loud!!
Sis, that E is the sweetest girl! And how you need some time to just BE once in a while. You relate to that phone, chocolate, hide sequence, do you? :-)