Friday, August 27, 2010

About My Daughter

I am undertaking the careful, delicate task of transforming my living room/dining room from Sydney's playroom to a place where I can write. To a "writing room", a concept so deliciously indulgent I almost don't dare to attempt it. Space is a premium here, we'd be comfortable no other way, so by now we are adept at the quick transformations that can change the layout of our house. Dining room/ recording studio, Living room/child's playroom, writing room/ dining room. Depending on who is here and why, our house can have many identities.

This morning it's a writing room. I've collected all the tiny, plastic Polly Pocket dresses from the dining room table, floor and couch, sweeping them up into a re-purposed colander. Cleared away the magic markers and bits of half chewed Cheerios. Gathered up the myriad bunnies and puppies and attempted to make this space feel like mine, at least until I pick up Syd at 3 o'clock. My sense of joy is almost delirious this week. I wasn't sure what it would be like to have her at home two days a week with nothing but my own imagination to guide me in instructing and entertaining her. I haven't spent as much consistent alone time with her since she was an infant, newly arrived and utterly dependant on me. She is still, of course, dependant on me, and I relish this. I experience the full force of her independence, her desire to "do it by myself", and feel grateful that there are still many things she needs me for.

I was not someone who considered working, or working full time after I had Sydney, as some sort of medieval punishment. I all but ran back to work when she 3 months old, and started singing in worship again when she was about 6 weeks. I remember those early mornings sprinting to a far ladies room to nurse her then racing back to the sanctuary for a prayer time before the service. I would often say to Matt "I've never been this tired" and he would remind me that I said that almost every day.

The truth was, I was more than worn out from middle of the night feedings and the physical demands of being a new mother, which is, for everyone, exhausting. Something was going terribly awry in my system, my brain, my nerves, and I was edging into a full fledged bout of post partum depression. Of course, I didn't know this at the time. I simply thought I was a wimp and couldn't handle motherhood. A regular routine that involved being around other adults (i.e., work) eased some of it's early grip on me. I embraced work and continued to seek additional hours and responsibilities, trusting the nursery staff at the church to take care of my baby during those hours I attempted tasks I knew I could handle. In fact, I was sure that the nursery staff workers, all mother's themselves, were far more qualified than I was to take care of her, and it gave me some peace.

I wasn't completely nuts, not yet, but I was getting there. My coping mechanism was also meaningful work, and so it was no scandal that I was back at work, by my own choice, after having Sydney. I was raised by a working mother and I discovered that I believed in the early socialization that comes from a good, faith based child care environment. Sydney thrived, and her caretakers became like family to us. It all went swimmingly for quite some time. In the dark recesses of my heart, my middle of the night panic sessions, I feared that I was an inadequate mother. Nothing came 'naturally' to me. Often, the thought of spending a stretch of hours alone with my infant scared the business out of me. I was exhausted from not sleeping (even after she began sleeping longer stretches I would lie awake at night waiting for her to need me) and I felt that attempting motherhood was really an aggregious act of hubris on my part. Why did I think I would be able to do this?

As I recollect those painful early days I am shocked by the mother I've become. I'm confident. I'm careful. I think I'm even fun! I am a good mother, (twice this week people have told me that so it must be true) and I learned the hard way that I was neither lucid nor rational in the beginning. I was literally coming under a tidal wave of hormones, brain waves and physical exhaustion- the molotov cocktail of post partum depression.

The thoughts I had then were not rational thoughts, they were amplified projection of my own deep seeded fears. Like electronic pings, they honed in on my deepest insecurities and exaggerated them 1000%. The most devastating lies are the ones with a tiny grain of truth to them. The evilest evil is a distortion of the most beautiful good.

I have never more enjoyed Sydney than I have this week. I pick her up from school at 3 (though she is in a new school I can tell that she is still shocked that she is not the last one to be picked up). Twice a week it's just she and I for the whole day. We run errands, we practice numbers and letters, we cook. I adore her, which is no surprise, but I've learned this week that I adore spending unstructured time with her. That I can spend unstructured time with her. That I can be trusted with her. Though it's been 3 and a half years since the Post Partum (which after months of stubborn denial on my part was finally 'cured' with a small dose of an anti-depressant) I am only now seeing the deep wound it left in me. And I am only now embracing the joy of the victory I've won over it. A victory over more than just the emotions, but over the fairly binding choices it inspired. I don't need to work until I drop. In fact, it's better for Sydney and for me, if I pick her up at 3 o'clock.

Don't get me wrong, I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that this a luxury. A tremendous luxury. I still get to participate in meaningful work, but I don't have long office hours. Sydney get's to go to a terrific Christian school, and I can still pick her up at 3. This new arrangement, which I credit solely to the grace of God, is allowing us to try out something we've never done before. And simply put, I am enjoying it.

Friday, August 20, 2010

Pictures from Budapest

Friends- we're back!

Thank You.

Check out pics and tales from our adventure:
http://hammonsinhungary.blogspot.com/2010/08/pictures-from-budapest.html


Love, Cameron

Pictures from Budapest

Friends- we're back!

Thank You.

Check out pics and tales from our adventure:
http://hammonsinhungary.blogspot.com/2010/08/pictures-from-budapest.html


Love, Cameron

Saturday, August 7, 2010

You Give and Take Away

Today we learned that our friend Kimberly Richter, who has battled brain cancer bravely for several years, went to be with the Lord yesterday.

It's so strange to learn of this from the other side of the world. We are happy to know that she is healed and whole, but of course we'd hoped for those prayers to be answered this side of eternity. We are heartbroken for the Richter family and for the Grace Presbyterian Church family. Our prayers for peace and comfort for all.

Just last week we learned that our little friend Kate McRae is healing from brain cancer. A true victory. We rejoice with her parents and friends. It makes me think of that lyric- 'you give and take away.' I will be singing that song in my head for some time I think.

Today, we spent the day with a couple who are here as missionaries from Ecclesia Clear Lake. How exciting to talk with people who have the same ideas we have for reaching people- for a focus on long term relationships and discipleship with Hungarians. We connected on so many points, it was an exciting hang.

We've come to a place of maybe beginning to understand a little bit of why God brings us back to Budapest. We always thought we were just avoiding the call to come and live here full time- but I think we've realized finally that is not what God has for us now. It's more important, we hope and pray, for God to use us to communicate with our friends in the States the needs over here- and hopefully inspire more people to come to do long or short term missions in Budapest.

Here's the deal: The next generation of European and World Leaders are coming through Budapest. Hungarians, Russians, Estonians, Ukranians, etc.. People who are going to make up the next wave of influence in the world are coming from Post Communist, Post Religious countries. For now, material gain, as promised by the EU is this culture's religion. Under communism personal material gain and wealth was forbidden, so now you see people all but crushing each other to have it.

The work here is not providing basic human needs like water and food, as we see in developing countries. Instead the need is to disciple Europeans to want to, in Jesus name, provide a clean cup of water to not only those in developing countries- but to the marginalized populations in their own back yards. These "hardened, post modern" Europeans can and by the grace of God- will be- the next generation to lead Europe. We want to see them leading from a place of faith in the Redeemer. This means practically- a developing distaste for injustice, for greed, for exploitation. A developing taste for love, justice, truth and compassion.

Yesterday at the outreach there were breakthroughs for sure- again we saw how God uses our music to draw people in- to begin to ask questions of who, what and mostly WHY? Why are you in Budapest? Why do you like it here? Why do you want to learn our language?

Even though we might be drifting from this idea of "street evangelism" we cannot deny that the power of the Holy Spirit falls when we are playing music. It opens doors. We are grateful God allows us to be a part of this. So for this week- we will suspend our doubts and just go with it.

Another thing happened today to remind us that our financial well being is utterly and totally dependent on Him. :) How grateful we are for his provision and how totally in need we are of his grace.

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