Today, when I got a clothing magazine in the mail and drooled over all the wonderful, hip looking outfits there are to be bought, I realized I am also fasting from buying new clothes. This fast is mostly a practical fast. With only one income, there isn't a lot left over to play with and so new wardrobes are out of the question. Plus with a toddler, nice clothes do not stay nice very long. Everyday I discover new stains I missed the chance to spot. Now I realize that I am stuck with these clothes and should just deal with it until E is in kindergarten. I am a mom; my uniformed of wrinkled, stained clothing is really a badge of honor. It shouldn't matter what I wear.
But that is so hard to do. We live in age, or may be it has been true in every age, where appearance matters. It's your business card. It's the store front on which we judge worthiness, coolness, likability. I am not sure what role fashion ever played in the bible, except for the fact it talks about how beautiful and what refined clothes we will wear in heaven. So even in the afterlife, clothes and appearance tell us we've arrived at... um, what does beauty and nice clothes represent, perfection? What does our obsession with fashion and appearance represent? Is it really beauty? I think maybe it is beauty mixed with mammon, hence why we should allow ourselves to be dressed like lilies of the field: by God's provision. Whatever that means. I am not being sarcastic, but rather trying saying that I don't know what God's provision is with regards to clothes, except that I shouldn't blow the budget on ones I don't particularly need or can afford. Oh! To be working and to have play money! Just kidding, I don't really want to be working, that would bring so many headaches in other areas, I'm not sure play money is worth it.
And that brings me to my next thought that relates to marriage. Not linearly, but somehow through the weaving of one person working, the other not, and the decisions that follow, you get to some thoughts on a functioning partnership that when sacramented is marriage. By not drinking coffee since the beginning of December, my relationship with my husband has improved. Maybe coffee is the scapegoat unto which I can cast my angst. Or maybe because I miss coffee so much it lessens the pangs of separation I have when Daniel works incredibly long hours or travels. Or maybe it was just we both needed the holidays for a vacation to get away and reset. Whatever it is, one expected gift that is carrying over into the new year, is I am more at peace with Daniel working and working late hours and all the time than I was before. And that has been a huge blessing. It is a huge blessing for him that I am at home with the baby and able to keep some order at home. Not much order as I've never been much of a housekeeper, but I can cook. What matters to him is that home is a calm, restful place for him (when I'm happy at least), that his daughter is cared for well and that is the balance he needs to do what he needs to do at work. And I have struggled, struggled, struggled with that, until now. We had a great holiday that allowed us to reconnect and recharge to start the new year with on a new footing and a better understanding. And for that I am grateful. It ain't easy submitting and staying at home and feeling like good professional years of work are passing me by. Yet, I know, that God is in control and has a plan and using this time in my life to reveal things that need to be revealed. Even if it's such a slow dolganged process!
Maybe later I'll get to other thoughts on marriage-like the one that daniel married me because he thought i'd be a good mom. My feminist sensibilities were sorefully affronted. My awesome female independent going to rock the world attraction wasn't what drew him? Just my mom potential?? How completely ironic. My feminist fore bearers are so proud. ... As they should be! I married my best friend because of, well, mostly God, if I think about it. But we can talk about choices and self actualization and equal partnership later. It's late and mommy duties start early. And. without. coffee.
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