I don’t often resort to reading magazines because I've got too many books on my must-read list. But with four kids in school, all this has changed. Two words. Fund Raisers. How can I not order magazine subscriptions from my own children?! How can I be the one to prevent them from winning a prize? Well, obviously I can’t, so I've been reading magazines.
It all began innocently enough. Last week, as I read through one of my new magazines, I began to make lists. It’s embarrassing to even write this out loud. But if Brenè Brown is to be believed when she says,
“We cultivate love when we allow our most vulnerable and powerful selves to be deeply seen and known, and when we honor the spiritual connection that grows from that offering with trust, respect, kindness and affection.”
I will risk telling the truth. The truth about my lists. My first list included the many eye-wrinkle creams that promised to diminish and even remove all my wrinkles. This was followed by bullet points outlining which diet pills have been proven to work. I cataloged the many hair-coloring products that would cover up the most grey. I was on a roll. I carefully studied my face in the mirror to see what new hairstyle might look best with my face shape. Which manufacturer I could count on to erase my new lip wrinkles. Which leading brand of makeup could make me look years younger. I wish I could say that I stopped there. But it only got worse.
I continued on to the decorating section of the magazine and began making my next list. This list was full of fresh ideas about how to spruce up my home. New pillows, new throws, splashes of color. How to make it cozy. How to make it inviting. How to make it just about perfect, but in a sort of haphazard, I’m-not-really-trying-way. Next up was How to Clean Your Cozy, Inviting, Almost-Perfect House. I thought I already knew how to keep a clean house but apparently, I've been wrong all these years. Thank goodness my magazine already had a list of the best green, non-toxic, eco-friendly cleaners so I could just rip out the page and file it away.
I moved into the recipe section of the magazine and immediately began to dismiss recipes based on fat grams, number of calories and wheat content. These recipes would never work with myfitnesspal.com. Soy, nuts, dairy, nope. I mean, seriously. The few that passed my rigorous test got stuffed into the recipe box that I never use.
I was only halfway through my magazine when I reached a review of the Top 10 Workout Programs. I tried to plow through it but I was exhausted. There’s only so much information my brain can absorb. And this wasn't even fun reading. It wasn't relaxing at all. I often dream of moments when I’m sitting outside, reading a magazine, savoring a cup of coffee. The image in my head is always peaceful but this was nothing like my daydream. It felt like too much. Or not enough. I wasn't sure which.
My mind drifted back to a book I'd read over the summer called "Kisses From Katie” by Katie Davis, who is originally from Brentwood, TN. Katie went to Uganda on a missions trip when she was 18 and never came back home. She has since adopted 14 girls and started Amazima Ministries, an organization that feeds, educates, and encourages the orphaned, poor and vulnerable. Amazima means truth. Their stories, the brutal truths that Katie tells about the people there, especially the women, have settled deep into my heart. When I close my eyes, it's their faces I see.
When I imagine a Ugandan mother laying her head down at night, I don’t think she’s worried that she hasn't ordered magazine subscriptions from her children's school. Her children may not even have the opportunity to attend school. I doubt she’s ever wondered which hairstyle would suit her face shape or questioned the wrinkles on her face. Growing older is a victory to be celebrated; not something to be fought.
She's not tallying up her calorie count for the day. Carbs? Calories? Fat grams? I am quite sure that her tummy would be happy with food of any kind. Paleo? Atkins? South Beach? She's never heard these terms before. The concept of dieting would be laughable were her situation not so dire.
She's not beating herself up for not working out today, yet I'm sure her body aches. Crossfit? Pilates? Kickboxing? These words are as foreign to her as her world is to us.
If she’s lucky enough to have a home, it surely doesn't cross her mind to think of ways she could make it more aesthetically pleasing. New bedding? Curtains? Fall Decor? She is sleeping on the cold, dirty ground, swatting away the bugs that swarm her face. I don't think she’s concerned about non-toxic cleaners or how sparkly her kitchen counters are. Cleanliness is not next to godliness.
She has no phone, no computer, no iPad no television. She has no distraction from her real life. Her real life IS the horror that we see on the news, hear about on the radio and read about on social media.
I close my magazine, ashamed. I pray that nobody in Uganda ever, ever sees these pages. They paint us in such an unbecoming light. I can think a lot of adjectives to describe us but you don’t need me to write them; your own words will rise to the surface. I’m actually talking about the good ones. We are so much more than what these magazines portray.
We can’t all be Katie. We’re not all called to be Katie. But we can learn some things from her. A lot of things. We can all be present in our own lives. This will look different for each of us. When we feel that nudge to do something, anything, we can listen. We all have so much to offer the world around us. We can remember to be grateful for what we have.
The first thing I am going to do is cancel my magazine subscriptions. I don’t want to waste one more second worrying about me, my house or my stuff. Too much energy has already been spent there. I’m going to let the house go for a while and concentrate on some things that really matter. I’m going to eat without counting calories and be grateful that we have food to put on the table. I don’t ever again want to open my pantry and complain that I can’t make dinner because we’re out of food, when it’s clear that we have plenty. I don’t want to yell at my kids about crumbs on the floor because it’s evidence of plenty. Those 10 extra pounds? More evidence of plenty.
The first thing I am going to do is cancel my magazine subscriptions. I don’t want to waste one more second worrying about me, my house or my stuff. Too much energy has already been spent there. I’m going to let the house go for a while and concentrate on some things that really matter. I’m going to eat without counting calories and be grateful that we have food to put on the table. I don’t ever again want to open my pantry and complain that I can’t make dinner because we’re out of food, when it’s clear that we have plenty. I don’t want to yell at my kids about crumbs on the floor because it’s evidence of plenty. Those 10 extra pounds? More evidence of plenty.
I'm going to stop what I'm doing when my kids want to have snuggle time with me. No more telling them to wait till the dishes are done. I will ooh and ah over every single piece of artwork and not nag them about every....little....thing. I will play Uno. Again.
I may forget all of this by next month. But I hope to be more intentional about talking to my children about life; real life. I want to expose them to the poverty that exists in their own backyard and beyond. I want them to understand that poverty is everywhere; we can be impoverished in body, mind and spirit. What if we taught our children something new, something different, something better?
I'll probably still yell at my kids. I’ll always want beauty in my home. I’ll still struggle with those extra pounds. I will be dismayed by more grey hair. But I hope I can look at all of these things differently; with fresh eyes and gratitude. I think I've believed that needy people need me to save them. And I can help, for sure. But the reality is that they have saved me.
I am on a quest for less. My heart longs for simplicity. I really don’t need more. The truth is I need far less. And if losing the magazine competition is the worst thing my children experience this week, they’re doing pretty well. We are all doing really well.
To read more of Katie’s story, go here:
http://www.amazima.org/
I may forget all of this by next month. But I hope to be more intentional about talking to my children about life; real life. I want to expose them to the poverty that exists in their own backyard and beyond. I want them to understand that poverty is everywhere; we can be impoverished in body, mind and spirit. What if we taught our children something new, something different, something better?
I'll probably still yell at my kids. I’ll always want beauty in my home. I’ll still struggle with those extra pounds. I will be dismayed by more grey hair. But I hope I can look at all of these things differently; with fresh eyes and gratitude. I think I've believed that needy people need me to save them. And I can help, for sure. But the reality is that they have saved me.
I am on a quest for less. My heart longs for simplicity. I really don’t need more. The truth is I need far less. And if losing the magazine competition is the worst thing my children experience this week, they’re doing pretty well. We are all doing really well.
To read more of Katie’s story, go here:
http://www.amazima.org/
