"ardently anti-facebook" (part one)

Catie left a comment after the last post asking me to elaborate on why I am "ardently anti-Facebook". Catie is one of my dearest friends in the world, a sincere and gentle soul. Yet I refuse to be Facebook friends with her. Why is it that when my sweet friend Catie wonders about how old Kelly is doing, why - why - must I put her through all the bother of having to call or email? Why I can't I make her life - everyone's life - so much easier and just GET ON FACEBOOK?????

(**** disclaimer: Catie would never ask this demanding question or even think it ******)

Well, firstly, when I say that I am ardently anti-Facebook, it is not a blanket condemnation of the act of using Facebook. It means that I have come to realize that Facebook is very much not for me. However, I fully believe that Facebook is the primary place that the culture wars are being played out amongst those in their tweens, teens, twenties and even beyond. As Pope John Paul II so brilliantly stated, "If the Church holds back from the culture, the Gospel itself will fall silent." Christians must be on Facebook, giving the Gospel a voice and standing up for truth on these front lines of the culture war. But not every Christian is called to this front - there are plenty of other fronts in the war - too many - and we are each gifted uniquely and given different marching orders from the Commander-in-Chief. More on this in a moment.

I first discerned that Facebook was not for me because I couldn't handle all the rough language and blood on the front lines. I cancelled my Facebook account because I literally could not sign in without being assaulted by the profanity, crude language, vulgar posts, and abrasive status updates of my "friends" and my friends' friends. In 33 years, I have never become desensitized to profanity or potty language and both deeply bother me. I'd become upset by the deeply offensive, shockingly rude, aggressively disrespectful and utterly immature posts - otherwise polite people will freely write things on Facebook that they would never say in person. My relationships were damaged from reading harshly stated opinions about those things which I hold most sacred. Also I literally have OCD - other people could read these things perhaps and move on with their day. I cannot. I obsess. For days. I once forgot to feed my girls breakfast because I was so deeply disturbed by something I had read on Facebook. It was not until I gave the kids lunch that they informed me I had never fed them breakfast. That's a red flag. A big one.

Facebook also created too many awkward situations for me - unwanted friend requests, the process of "unfriending" and the subsequent attempt by others to be "refriended". How is one to protect one's privacy, make discerning choices about who should be kept in touch with via FB, and do so with sensitivity and charity? It seemed nearly impossible. Furthermore, FB does not actually in any way fulfill my social needs. I love Catie. Dearly. Yet I'm not terribly interested in what time Catie woke up or what Catie ate for breakfast. I want to know what Catie thought about while she ate breakfast; I want to know what is truly troubling her and what it giving her greatest joy lately. That's what makes me feel socially fulfilled. That's not usually the stuff of Facebook posts. Obviously. It wouldn't be appropriate on Facebook where all your friends and mere acquaintances can read it. (That sort of thing is much better reserved for your own personal blog where friends, acquaintances and complete strangers can access it.) When I was on Facebook, I had more "active" relationships, but overall, these interactions were increasingly shallow and meaningless and unsatisfying to me. Since leaving Facebook, I have less contact with others but it's much more meaningful, which is for me far more fulfilling. Also the people who only wanted to keep in touch with me if it was very easy have dropped me altogether - and that is actually a good thing, I think.

I still go on Facebook occasionally through Rich's account. We have given each other free access to each other's email and Facebook accounts as a protection to our marriage. I did see on Facebook how great a danger there could be of innocently friending an old classmate of the opposite gender and slowly creating something that threatens the marriage relationship. We are both protected by knowing the the other signs in to our accounts. I never go on FB to check on Richard, I generally go on because perhaps a friend is due with a baby and I check daily to see if the baby has born - or to see that first photo. (This behavior is known as "Facebook Stalking") Still, even with those good and innocent intentions, I find that I just end up wasting too much time once there. If the posts are not vulgar or offensive, they are often just plain insipid. It's easier for me not to have FB at all than to use it moderately and in a well-ordered fashion. Most people I know confess that they too struggle with using time on FB well.  Recently we were guests in a home and our host (or hostess) (a well-balanced, mature individual) kept the computer open and on throughout our entire visit - and kept checking repeatedly to see if others had posted in response to his (or her) recent post. That is just not healthy folks!

I think I've covered most of why Facebook was not "for me". But I still have much to say about the value of Facebook and why others should use it (and use it well) if they feel so drawn. I want to write about the culture wars and how that relates to Facebook. But my children have woken for the day and I need to make the prudent decision to get out from behind this screen and feed them breakfast. At some point in the next 24 hours, when the kids are all caught up on their meals, I intend to write part two -about the "pros" of Facebook. Stay tuned.

the future of the blog

In response to a query that is becoming increasingly common: yes, I do intend to continue to write after leaving New Zealand. But I don't know what form that will take. I've been back and forth about this multiple times - thinking, praying, discussing ad nauseum with Richard (sorry, love!)..... I love to blog because I love to write. I hate to blog because I feel very "exposed" in blogging, paranoid about how others will judge me for what I reveal about my spiritual life, my parenting, my marriage, my housekeeping, my cheesy insights into the mundane and everything else about which I write. Confession: I worry others will judge me because I find myself often judging what I read in blogs. I think that Jesus told us so often not to judge because well, we all judge. Too much. And the people who are most horrified at the "judgmental-ness" of others are usually exceedingly judgmental individuals. Really, Jesus didn't waste a whole lot of time preaching about rare sins; he focused on the areas that are common to man. I think I've met only three people in my entire life who were not sometimes severely judgmental. Two of them were younger than five years old. So despite the fact that I too often judge, I hypocritically and pridefully have a paranoid fear of being judged. The Lord has told me that this is not an acceptable reason for stopping the blog. He seems to think that it would be far better for me to work hard on stopping the judging.

A while back I started playing with the idea of a new blog. I wasn't intending to start keeping two blogs simultaneously, I was just experimenting with the design and possible focus of a post-New Zealand blogging project. I had settled on the idea of writing about  applying what I had learned over these two years, but in the mission of everyday life. If you check out the first post, you will understand the Lord's sense of humor. Days after I finalized the direction of this new blog and published an experimental first post, we learned that actually the Lord might not be sending us back to the life we already knew. So much for most of what I had written. Nevertheless, I may still pursue the theme, but I'm not certain yet.

What I am certain of is this: on this current site I will chronicle the wrap-up of the mission, which includes all the closing activities in New Zealand, the return journey, the settling-in process Stateside, the details of our new life (or our old life, as the case may be). I will (at least) occasionally update the blog with bits of news about our family life (for all our friends in New Zealand, as I have been doing for these past two years for our friends in the US). Since I am not only "non-Facebook" but ardently "anti-Facebook", I've already been informed by multiple individuals that this is the only fair compromise. I may start work on that new blog, unified by the tiny heroic moments theme. Or I may scrap that and try blogging from a different angle (if so, I will publish the new address here). Or I may discern that the Lord is calling me to steward my writing elsewhere. I've been working here and there on other writing projects. At the urging of my parents and in-laws, I've worked extensively on a book about our mission trip which includes details I didn't or couldn't include on the blog. I've also put some time into a children's book about our mission years written from Maria's perspective (because other than Little House books and Charlotte's Web, I'm having a hard time finding "not-stupid" chapter books written for a child at her comprehension level.) In time, when things settle down, I'll figure out what kind of writing is most feasible and appropriate. For now, there are many pressing matters to deal with and they alone constitute the material of my thoughts and written words. I'm grateful and humbled by how many people in the States and in New Zealand have encouraged me to keep writing. I assume most of those individuals are not judging me - at least not too harshly. (Do any of you happen to keep a blog about the mission of being nonjudgmental?)

crazy days

saying a sad goodbye

We're back to the crazy days. They feel so familiar. This is exactly what May 2010 felt like. I guess there's simply no way around the stress of an international move, whether you're coming or going. True, this time there is a lot less packing, but there are now more children to inhibit the packing process. There's an equal amount of cleaning. (No, wait, there's more. There are more children making things dirty faster than I can clean. And I wasn't pregnant last time.) Also there are more people who want to say special goodbyes since this time it is not "see you in two years!" but rather "see you in heaven!" And there are just as many baffled customer service representatives on the phone. This week I had to call our electric company in the States to have the power turned back on in our Pennsylvanian house. The woman who had the misfortune of picking up my call asked (routinely) for the address of my house, for my SSN, and for my telephone number. I don't have a telephone number. At least not one that is going to fit into the designated spaces on her computer screen. When I explained that I was calling from New Zealand and did not have an American telephone number yet, the phone went silent....and then the inevitable "Can you hold for a moment.....(while I go get a manager...because lady, this just doesn't happen in my normal workday and THERE IS NO FIELD FOR CALLING FROM NEW ZEALAND ON MY COMPUTERIZED FORM!!!!!)"  

Just like exactly two years ago this time, I am cleaning. I am throwing things away. I am driving to St. Vincent de Paul's....a lot. I'm wiping down board books and laundering tutus and making mountainous piles of items that will have to fit somehow into the twelve bags with which we are permitted to fly. My planner is crammed with deadlines and lists and reminders. My mind is spinning and my shoulders always seem to be hunched up very tight together. 

And just like two years ago, I have no idea what will happen after the plane lands. In fact, I think two years ago I had a better of idea of what would happen after our plane landed in Auckland than I currently know about what will happen after our plane lands in Pittsburgh. That's one thing that I thought would be so different on the return trip. I thought we'd know exactly what to expect for the return voyage - no surprises. For these past two years, I thought that when the mission was over we were going back....back to what was familiar, back to what was known, back to our old life....back to the family and friends and community and home we'd missed so much all this time. But the Lord, the One who makes all things new, so often prefers to move us forward, not back. And it seems that there is a chance that He will indeed be moving us "forward" rather than "back". With 18 days to go until departure, I literally can't even guess at what we are "returning" to.  On the one hand, there's a good possibility that we are indeed returning to a (mostly) familiar life. That option is always open to us. On the other hand, there is also an equally good possibility that we are going to be starting over again in a brand-new life, knowing nobody, in a city, state and region which neither of us has ever before laid eyes on. (Kind of like two years ago...) The Lord may give that option as well, leaving us free then to choose. But we don't know yet for sure. Most likely we won't know until days before we fly out of Auckland (if then!). 

It feels....weird. I don't find that kind of uncertainty as easy as Richard does. I'm a planning type. I love to organize and structure things well in advance. Right now, I can make no solid plans. No doubt the Lord is teaching me a great deal by keeping me in this state of limbo. I don't normally "do" limbo. I barely know how to exist in limbo. In fact, late at night, the wheels of my brain simply spin with two sets of plans - one set for if we return to PA and one set of plans for if we do not. That's my limbo-resistant brain, where I live most of the time. But my heart - which I do visit occasionally - is different. Deep in my heart I trust that the Lord is simply going to make it obvious where He wants us and that He is at work even in the timing of our knowledge of where that is. He has a good plan, a brilliant plan, a beautiful plan. I have to keep reminding my limbo-hating brain of that. Hourly. Especially between the hours of 9pm and 11pm.   

So there is a feeling of  *some*  stress. I think I can honestly say that Rich and I are both at peace that the Lord is going to provide job, home and community - and that He will do all things well. He has given us clear signs and we are both at peace. Nevertheless, there is an ENORMOUS mountain to climb in the near future before there is any feeling of being settled or at rest. The mountain consists of packing, and of the emotional drama of saying goodbye to people and places we've come to love. It consists of the thousand little details that must be attended to when moving. It absolutely consists of a thirteen hour flight from Auckland to LA with three very small plane-phobic children, followed by seven hours of travel on two flights the following day before we finally reach Pittsburgh. It consists of the jet lag that will attend adjusting to a sixteen hour time difference. It consists of settling ourselves and our children back into our old home on Wilson and helping them cope with a total lifestyle change. It consists of possibly packing everything back up soon thereafter, preparing the house for sale, finding a new house and then settling the children again for a second time in a very short span of time. And then...just as perhaps we find some sort of new normalcy....we'll have a baby. I think even the saints would find this mountain at least a little stressful.  

So today we took a much-needed break from the stressful things and we paid a bittersweet final visit to one of our most beloved places in New Zealand. All these photos were taken today at the place we have called "Shelly Beach" (we have no idea what the locals actually call it.) Truly, photos do not do this beach justice. In these photos, you can't see the variety, abundance or perfection of the seashells. You can't see the stretches of beach where there is no sand, just layer upon layer of salty shells crunching underfoot. You can't see the tide pools teeming with starfish and crabs and snails (mostly because it was low tide when we went today). You can't see Mt. Maunganui towering immediately above you, ridiculously green, dotted with sheep and encircled at its base with fantastic trees that transform you effortlessly into your favorite character from Lord of the Rings. You can't feel the sea breezes or hear the lapping of the waves. You can't see the shifting colors of sea and sky, nor touch the amazing textures of the rocks. You can't explore all the secret hiding places among the rocks or hunt for the treasures they hold. You certainly can't pretend to be Ariel from the Little Mermaid, sunning yourself on one of the outermost rocks (and this is a good thing, as Richard's brother Jason nearly was dashed to bits by a powerful wave doing just that last year).  Nevertheless, this is the place that we have taken the kids more times than we can count, a place we have gone on sunset dates together, a place we have taken all our visitors. It is the place where I have collected most of my beautiful seashell souvenirs and the place Rich and I have climbed enormous rocks and sat in silence to watch the water crashing all around us, feeling very close to God indeed. Our family has had so many precious memories at this beach (to say nothing of the trips to the nearby gelato store that inevitably accompany these outings). I can't think of any place in New Zealand at which I have been happier, except for the (intoxicating) Tyburn Monastery. 

As usual, we had a wonderful time - but this time was also stabbingly sad. It was like saying goodbye to a really close friend - knowing that it would be a very long time before I saw it again, if I did see it again at all. For all its own charms, I'm not sure Pittsburgh has anything that compares to this. Not even on Wilson Avenue.