Searching for Angela Shelton

I think a lot about "giving back" somehow to other people who are still in more pain than me due to their experiences of childhood sexual abuse. I haven't found anything that really resonates with me yet, but I do hope I'll have the opportunity at some point to help others through my journey.

Recently I came across an interesting website about a movie made by a woman named Angela Shelton (called "Searching for Angela Shelton") who has found her opportunity to help. She started out going across the country and looking up every other woman named Angela Shelton she could find. I'm kind of a sucker for documentaries like that - where you get to find out about the quiet desperation and amazing blessings in other people's lives. What she also found out along the way is that a majority of the Angela Sheltons were survivors of sexual abuse or rape. So this thing has become a movement of sorts to let survivors know they are not alone as well as make the general public aware of how prevalent this sort of thing is in our society.

The DVD is kind of expensive, but I want to see the movie. Maybe Blockbuster will get it in... or I'll manage to program TiVo correctly to catch it on Lifetime. Anyway, this was just intriguing to me and I thought I'd share it. It's an interesting idea.

Apathy vs. Superwoman

I've been struggling with a deep sense of apathy for over a year now. It's pernicious. I notice it mainly at work where it is all too easy, sadly, to let things slide. No one is going to be hurt or affected in any way if I don't get a certain record in a database by some magical deadline. So it becomes acceptable to say that today, I'm going to concentrate on doing something for my Russian class or set up Suzuki violin lessons for Emmelia instead of that work project that is piling up on my desk. I'm not the only one like this at work - I'm not sure if that's good or bad. Home life is the same way. The dishes can wait, really. They are not a priority in any way. So why am I paying good money to have my kids in daycare while I sit at my desk and play a round of Mah Jong solitaire? Oh, yeah - the mortgage.

I've felt bad about this for a long time. It's the subject of many a discussion with my friends. And yet here I am posting on my blog in the middle of a workday. But I've been slowly coming to a realization about this whole thing and it actually relates back to those pesky self-esteem issues I keep trying to put away for good. I have some inner Superwoman against which I compare myself constantly. This Superwoman would have absolutely no issues with being a full-time tandem nursing mother, a full-time employee, a student, a wife, a homemaker (not necessarily in that order). This Superwoman can do it all, have it all, be it all. And somehow there is a feeling inside me that if I fail to live up to this impossible standard, I am a failure.

Well, I can't live up to it. There - I've admitted it. I cannot be the perfect woman I've always been encouraged to be. It's not apathy or even anything bad to take a break now and then or to not be able to accomplish 110% of the tasks we set ourselves. I can still be a good person and not always be on top of it all. I need to lower my standards a bit, don't you think?

So now, back to the Mah Jong before I work on returning those water shoes I ordered for our upcoming beach vacation. And THEN - I might get to work on something work-related...

Under the Weather

I've been under the weather for the better part of the last week. Nothing hugely serious, just some bug that has made it difficult for life to progress at its usual headlong rate. I haven't had a lot of energy to think about topics of interest for the blog - sorry.

The wonder-working icon of the Mother of God known as the Sitka Mother of God has been in Denver these past two days. I toyed with the idea of picking the kids up from daycare after work yesterday, feeding them "dinner" in the car and driving into the "belly of the beast" (as we call Denver) to see and venerate the icon. The Deac was busy with fire department business so it would've been all me. I came to my senses. I guess we are just going to have to go see the icon in its native habitat of Alaska. I've always wanted to visit Alaska anyway.

The bishop visited our parish this weekend. Normally this is a high-stress event for all involved. Because I was sick, I was especially glad for the excuse of having small children so that I did not have to do anything besides show up for the services and occasionally take a screaming child outside. Oh, and enjoy some yummy Arabic food along the way. I think the visit went well, especially from my end. ;-) At any rate, it was nice to see His Grace. Maura could've done less screaming, but then again she is getting her eye teeth.

Speaking of weather (under it or not), it's been incredibly beautiful here the past few days. Bright, clear blue skies and weather in the 80s. Tomorrow is supposed to be different and the chill of fall will definitely be in the air. I'm okay with that, though - fall is my favorite time of year. Emmelia keeps talking about wanting to jump in the piles of leaves. Apparently she remembers that fondly from last year.

My 15 minutes of digiscrapping fame

A friend pointed out that my "Emmelia" layout (the top one below) was chosen as "Layout of the Day" on this site (for 9/18)! How exciting! I feel honored that they liked my work enough to showcase it.

Two new scrapbook layouts

Here's the digital scrapbook layouts I had a chance to do this week. They were a lot of fun.

The one at the Children's Museum has more "white space" - a new theme in the digital scrapbooking world. The theory is that some scrappers started doing it to save ink, but then everyone kind of liked the less cluttered, clean look.

The more colorful one was done with a kit made by my friend Christine Nash, who sells over at Scrap Outside the Box. The kit is called "Ethan's Red Sucker". Kits make digital scrapping easy - you just have to choose which "papers" and elements you want (okay, making that choice can be very difficult!!), re-size as appropriate and lay everything out on the page.

In other news, I got a 105% on my first Russian exam! I'm psyched about that. I have another exam on Monday, so I'll be spending the weekend writing out the "getting acquainted" phrases we've learned, as well as the numbers from 0-20. It's still a LOT of fun.

Shades of martyrdom

Had the oddest thought process the other day. So what better to do with something like that than put it up on the ol' blog and see what you all think? Hee.

I was thinking about how easy it is as a survivor of childhood sexual abuse to fall into the trap of asking why God allowed the abuse to happen. I mean, He's GOD - He certainly has the ability and power to keep bad things from happening to innocent children. This train of thought is deadly because you begin to wonder if God just doesn't care about you or something - if He did, He surely would've kept you from being hurt, right?....

But God doesn't keep us from sinning. He CAN, certainly, because He is God - but He won't because if He stops us from sinning, we lose our free will. If we have no free will, there is no hope for our salvation. And we know that God "desires all men to be saved and to come to the knowledge of the truth" (I Timothy 2:4). Having the truth imposed upon you is a lot different than coming to a knowledge of it. This is why God did not stop the abuse from happening to me. He did not stop my grandfather from sinning because, ultimately, He desired his salvation. I guess it's easiest to think of God's response to what happened to me in the context of being a parent: A couple of years ago, we were at a church conference in Denver. We were on a patio enjoying a casual dinner and when we finished, I took the plates, etc., over to the trash can. Emmelia, a toddler at the time, came running across the patio towards me. On her way toward me, she fell and scraped her knee. As a parent, my heart went into my throat. There was nothing I could do to prevent her from falling and being hurt... all I could do was gather her into my arms while she cried and put a band-aid (good thing her Godmother had one in her diaper bag!) on her owie. We don't like to see our children hurt, but sometimes there's nothing we can do to stop it - we can only provide help and support towards their recovery.

Although God could not stop my grandfather from sinning, He protected me from some of the most devastating effects of childhood sexual abuse. He gave me people in my life to teach me about what love is really supposed to be like. He led me to Himself and His Church as a safe harbor and hospital to begin the healing process. He put a band-aid on my skinned knee and held me while I cried.

Here's my odd thought process: if I stop asking God why He allowed this to happen to me and accept that it did, I am somehow participating in my grandfather's salvation. In a way, it is a little form of martyrdom. By sacrificing the innocence of my childhood, I recognize that God was allowing my grandfather the opportunity to repent and turn towards Him. And "greater love has no man than this, that he lay down his life for his friends." (John 15:13) Forgiveness becomes not a process yet to be accomplished, but an integral part of the entire experience of being abused and rising out of the ashes. Forgiveness is ultimately the desire that my grandfather be saved and by accepting my role in his opportunity for salvation, my obligation to forgive this trespass against me is accomplished.

Okay, so that is circuitous at best and perhaps completely misguided (I never claimed to be a theologian). Still, you have to admit it's an interesting idea.

Time flies when you're having fun

Eighteen years ago today I was baptized - I can't believe it's been that long. On this anniversary I should be more of an adult, spiritually, don't you think? Able to vote and purchase tobacco products? I am actually not sure I've made that much progress in this journey, but I suppose the point is to keep trying.

I was raised in a non-churchgoing family with ostensibly strong small-town America Judeo-Christian values. Even though my parents had given up on the religion (Protestant Christianity, but different denominations) of their youth long before I was born, they sent me off to Sunday School at the Methodist church near our home. They encouraged me to sing in the children's choir and go to Vacation Bible School in the summer. One year at VBS, one of the adults asked me if I was baptized and reacted with something akin to horror to hear that I wasn't. At that point, a seed was planted in my mind - I wanted to find out what this baptism thing was all about. And I knew that someday I wanted to be baptized if only so no one would react in horror at the fact that I wasn't.

When I was in 4th grade, I decided I wanted to be Jewish. There were no synagogues in my small town - as far as I knew, I didn't know any Jewish people. But it seemed like such an orderly religion. I was drawn to the rules and rituals that could help bring order to the chaos of my life. But even then, at age 10, I remember thinking: "I can't be Jewish because I can't give up Jesus Christ."

Four years later, the wife of the local Episcopal priest asked if I'd be interested in a babysitting gig - watching the children in the church nursery on Sunday mornings. I accepted and thoroughly enjoyed my new assignment. Over the next 2 years, I was exposed to something I didn't know existed - liturgical Christianity. My heart soared - this is what I had been searching for all along (I thought) - I could have ritual AND Christ. In the summer of 1987, with the reluctant permission of my parents, I took catechism classes and was baptized and confirmed by the bishop during his parochial visit on Septmber 7th. I became very active in youth ministries in the Diocese and was the youngest person to be named a lay reader/chalice bearer in the state.

Since those days I've realized that the liturgy and ritual of the Episcopal/Anglican tradition were only shades of the depth for which my heart yearned. My husband and I met in an Episcopal Church when I was in college, so I can see God's plan in the path I've travelled, but soon after we were married we realized that we were disenchanted with the direction the Episcopal Church was going spiritually. We floundered, unchurched, for a while until we decided to try out a local Orthodox church that worshipped using a form familiar to us - the Liturgy of St. Tikhon. This liturgy was based on the traditional Anglican worship found in the 1928 (and earlier) Book of Common Prayer. The Western Rite was accessible to us and fully Orthodox at the same time. We had found the depth our hearts longed for and felt like we had truly "come home." We were chrismated in December of 1995 - a sacrament joining us to the Orthodox Church and usually considered to be the "completion" of Holy Baptism. Hmmm... maybe I should count from that date and give myself a little more time to become a spiritual "adult."

Our Jibber-Jabbering girl

My baby is 17 months old today. Where has the time gone? She is such an integral part of our lives, I can barely remember what life was like with only one child. Maura has surprised us by being even more verbal than her sister was at this age and I just completed this scrapbook layout earlier in the week with the collection of words Maura uses consistently. She understands even more words than she can speak and we have not stressed sign language as much as we did with Em because Maura can usually speak words before/when she learns the sign.

Technically, since tandem nursing begins when you get pregnant while still nursing, I've now been tandem nursing for 26 months! Over two years of the most sacrificial and demanding thing I've ever done - but it's been worth it. I know even though some days it seems like way too much, I will look back on this time and be grateful to have had the opportunity to give them both the best start possible in life.

Note: The blog experienced a small amount of comment spam and I've made a couple of changes. Feel free to leave non-spammy comments, though! It may turn out to be naive to allow people to post comments anonymously, but we'll cross that bridge when we come to it.

Hurricane Katrina

It's hard to sort out my thoughts with regard to the news stories and images coming out of the gulf coast region the past day or two. I'm not sure of what to say, but wanted to post *something* about it. I feel kind of overwhelmed and numbed by the devastation - a lot like I felt in the aftermath of 9/11 four years ago. It's a feeling of having to sit back and watch others struggle for their very lives while not being able to do anything to help.

I gave blood today. Chances are it will not be used to help those directly affected by the hurricane, but it will surely help *someone* and that is what matters. I wish I could reach through the television screen and help each person I see - especially the young mothers holding onto their babies and toddlers in the flooded streets of New Orleans. There but for the grace of God go I.

Here's a good list of charities coordinating efforts in the affected region if you are looking for somewhere to send a donation: http://www.networkforgood.org/topics/animal_environ/hurricanes/

Really, I suppose the best thing we have to offer in times like this is our prayers - even though it's hard to find words. One nice thing about the Orthodox Church is that there are always prayers available for our use if we can't come up with our own. Our Bishop sent out this supplication to be added to the litanies in the churches of our Diocese during upcoming services. For now it is my frequent prayer as well:

Again we pray for the victims of storms, floods, and catastrphe; for the relief of those afflicted, weary, and homeless; for the healing of those injured and in infirmity; that they may be granted Thy great and rich mercy.

Let not stormy waters drown Thy people, O Lord, and let it not ravage the earth utterly. But as Thou art good, do Thou direct the rushing of the water, and, as Thou art mighty, do Thou command that it become a moderate course with healthful air, O Thou Who art rich in mercies and boundless compassions, with contrite and humble hearts we pray Thee: Hearken and have mercy.