Finding Beauty

The itch to write has been growing, and so tonight after I finally sat down after hosting a baby shower I decided to do just that. The intended post was all about the baby shower, of course. All about the decorations and recipes for the roll-ups that turned out good, despite my fears. I sat down to feed my own sweet baby, picked up my phone to start a post, and found myself a couple sentences later immersed in my "fall back occupation". It happens whenever I'm so exhausted my brain doesn't stay on top of anything: looking at pretty kitchens on Instagram.

I wish I could tell you how many times "day dreaming" appeared on my report cards from school (it's literally everywhere). I was one of the children who was not allowed to sit by a window in public school, and I can honestly say I never outgrew that tendency to get lost in my own mind, in a world that was prettier than the one I was in.

I virtually stumbled on a blog post by a jewelry designer I follow. I'm not sure what made me stop to read it. Usually I scroll on past those posts from people I don't know, but the title must've caught my eye. I always wonder later if the unexplainable urge to stop and read was God trying to tell me something. You guys, I've had an epiphany tonight. A veil has been lifted.

With this particular post, immediately I felt empathy with the author. I too have spent an incredible amount of my life trying to cling tightly to beauty. Not my own, of course, but the beauty I can see. My soul craves beauty.

I was that little girl drooling over sparkly shoes in the store, the pink-canopied four poster bed. Details mattered to me even back then, and I had a strong desire for things to be "perfect". I would cut rings out of the JC Penny catalog and tape them to my fingers because I knew I'd never own them.

As an adult I find myself clinging to things I think are pretty, and surrounding myself with them. Today a dear aunt of mine commented that my house looked like a craft store. It was such a sweet compliment...and true. My home has become a craft store. The more I say it, the more it sounds like commercialism, like materialism, which I do not love. (I know this is in no way what my aunt meant, by the way, and she'd be surprised at the conclusion I came to by it.)

Yet I've realized more and more recently when I'm running errands that I sneak in a pretty thing or more to bring home. Nothing I need, and there are plenty of things we are much more in need of. I'm going to be brutally honest, and tell you all that I've been struggling lately. And the more I struggle, the more I crave beauty. This is the basic underlying truth to my "epiphany". Like a slap-in-the-face realization, the veil has shifted and revealed the ugly naked truth. The more miserable I feel the more I shop for pretty things to fill the house. The more I look for validation in human relationships. The more I seek satisfaction from food. As if the right earthly thing could fill the cracks of my heart.

It's an incredible task raising decent human beings, and I feel so very inadequate most days. I pray desperately not only for the graces to do my job well, but also for cooperation with those graces. But the struggle is always there, and I'm fatigued. I'm often playing the role of single parent while my husband works 12 hour shifts days and nights. Tomorrow starts shut-down for him (a.k.a. "hell week"). I struggle with my desire to be honest and find commiseration, because what mother has never felt overwhelmed? Is it better to limp ahead quietly and preserve the facade for those who wonder what it's like raising five kids? They are blessings from God, and I couldn't imagine life without them. Yet, I am overwhelmed. It is hard.

My exhaustion and frustration has overflowed into every part of my life. It's hard to say how it has multiplied like it has...most likely from failure to do something about it sooner, and also lack of sleep. It's been a long time since I've been able to get through Mass without crying, I'm ashamed to say. I'm at the end of my rope and realize I've forgotten to tie a knot to hang on. What little store of social graces I had has been bled dry. I have no idea what to say to anyone anymore as small talk, so I smile and nod like a fool. My overall tone of voice with the boys has again turned to drill sergeant. I keep pushing, keep reaching for that level of perfection in things that can never be this side of eternity.

I talk to St. Francis de Sales because he has given me such great advice. "St. Francis! It's me again! Look, I know you said to go read a book or take a walk or something when I feel my sanity slipping, but there's milk dripping off the table, and he's crying because he fell off the chair I told him not to climb, and she's hungry, and if I leave the kitchen now supper will be burned to a crisp. Sooo.... HELP!!!!

I crave the soul-sharing of a friend who gets it, who's been here, who has felt incredibly alone, outnumbered by little people, some who have illnesses or personalities that you feel lost in navigating. The mistake I keep making is relying so heavily on human beings and things, which only too often fail you. God never fails. Every time plans fall through, I get told no or someone says something rude, I get overlooked or someone else is chosen over me, a child disappoints, or my favorite book-cup-trinket-decoration gets destroyed, God is there whispering Not there. Me.

“The many troubles in your household will tend to your edification, if you strive to bear them all in gentleness, patience, and kindness. Keep this ever before you, and remember constantly that God's loving eyes are upon you amid all these little worries and vexations, watching whether you take them as He would desire. Offer up all such occasions to Him, and if sometimes you are put out, and give way to impatience, do not be discouraged, but make haste to regain your lost composure.” -St. Francis de Sales

What do you do when you want to hide in a quiet place, but can't leave? You fashion a little nest in your heart for Beauty and Goodness to reside. If all else is lost, there will remain a place of rest. Job prevailed because he had an entire castle in his heart, where his King reigned.

Basic theology tells us that God is beauty. He is love. He is everything we long for, everything we hope for. Everything we miss. "If I find in myself desires which nothing in this world can satisfy, the only logical explanation is that I was made for another world," says C.S. Lewis. I'm longing for God but searching for Him in all the wrong places.

And so I will share with you the part of the post that had tears streaming down my face, and me thinking Yes! Why do I always forget? Why do I keep having to be reminded? Why am I so slow to realize?

From www.lisaleonard.com :

"There is beauty in a hot cup of coffee.
There is beauty in sitting with a friend and sharing our hearts.
There is beauty in sunlight coming through the window.
There is beauty in slowing down to rest.
There is beauty in an impromptu dinner with friends.
There is beauty when my arms are tired from holding my boys.
There is beauty in the emptiness of loss, because loss means I have loved.
There is beauty in the dark places--where we least expect to find it. I have found on the hardest days, beauty shows up in real and miraculous ways.
The tighter I try to hold onto beauty, the more it slips through my fingers.
When I look to my outward beauty, my home and material things to fill me I become frustrated.
Beauty cannot be owned or possessed.
Beauty comes to me when I stop trying to control things and let them be what they are--messy and amazing.
There is nothing wrong with green shoes or four poster beds with the ruffle canopy. There is nothing wrong with a new couch or the perfect shade of lipstick. These things are beautiful gifts--ours to enjoy for a little while. But the little things; a smile, a tiny giggle, an anonymous gift, a small hand in mine, the ocean waves, the sun warming my shoulders, these are the most beautiful gifts of all."

In all these things we see a fraction of the beauty and goodness that God is.

I will add, there is beauty in the second of quiet in my soul before my King comes for a visit. There I will find strength to continue.