Had I But Known that Giving Up is Best

guest post by: Lauren Rieke

I've been wracking my brain for weeks trying to think of something that I haven't already written about (in a passionate but not at all grammatically correct way), won't make anyone fall asleep and I actually know something about. What a tough list, right?

I went through my regular list of "coulda, shoulda, wouldas" (to no avail) and ended up recounting my "expertise" in the areas of southern style sweet tea and attempting to control everything -ever. After amusing myself with significantly snarky "Had I but known" titles, a familiar tune can on my Pandora station. Ingrid Michaelson's song, Giving Up, brought me some much needed inspiration.

 

 



The very first time I heard this song, I wasn't quite sure what to think. I couldn't understand how a song about giving up could possibly be a love song. But after listening to it on repeat for about an hour, I realized that the song is incredibly catchy and isn't about giving up on someone at all, it's about giving up for them.

Let me explain...

It's been really difficult trying to come up with any solid thoughts in recent weeks. Life has been chaotic and nothing has been certain. There seems to be instability in my job and my husbands, job. My job directly impacts our housing situation. My hopes for family have been postponed, once again and new possible opportunities have recently knocked, provoking my fear of change and newness yet again.

My relationship with my husband has been strained. My relationship with (and faith in) the Lord has been seriously tested. My mental and emotional sanity has been in question. --but seriously-- I've spent many nights praying for my deepest desires, crying out for God to give us answers and contentment and peace. I've sobbed, I've screamed, I've allowed my spirit to feel completely numb. I've done everything except give up.

As a children and young adults, the idea of never giving up is drilled into us in hopes of inspiring greatness and diligence. We are told by Coach Vince Lombardi that, "winners never quit an quitters never win". All of our lives we are told that we have to work hard for what we want. We need to plan and prepare and set ourselves up for success. I'm not arguing against those ideas. I'll be the first on to say that hard work usually brings about positive results and goals can often be achieved with some good old-fashioned elbow grease and determination. But where does that leave me? Does not "succeeding" in my desires make me a "quitter"? Does it make me a "loser" as well?

I'm not the quarterback of a football team or the CEO of a fortune 500 company. I'm just a wife, a worker, and a hopeful heart in the midst of a scary world. And unfortunately, the things I'm most worried about, and hopeful for, are out of my control at this moment. I've worked hard, I've tried to make wise choices and I've been waiting for answers to come.

I've been trying desperately to determine the source of my discontentment and trying to understand why I've been so discouraged and why I've felt so let down. Deep down I think that I'm fearful that life won't be as exciting or as perfect as I once imagined it would be. I'm fearful that my closest relationships will end or suffer. I'm fearful that one wrong move, one unwise choice, will ruin me (us) forever. I'm fearful that my husband may not like the kind of person I've become. I'm fearful that the family I've always dreamed of is always going to be "just another couple years" away and I'm especially afraid that when the time comes, I won't have the ability to carry and I won't be a mother at all.

Perhaps my biggest life failure, so far, is my inability to be satisfied with this part of the pasture. I consistently long for the greener grass on the other side of the fence and regularly end up teetering on the balance beam, neither fully here, nor fully there. Perhaps my desires for future happiness need to be surrendered in order to be satisfied with the now. Perhaps I can use my fear of "missing out" to my advantage and spend my energy making the most of life in this moment. Perhaps giving up my expectations is what's best for me, my marriage and my career.

What if the greener grass I've been waiting for never becomes available? What if I really am missing out on something amazing because I'm too focused on the future? As Ingrid Michaelson so sweetly says, "I am giving up on half-empty glasses ... I am giving up on greener grasses ... I am giving up for you." And that's what I'm doing. Giving up. For my husband, my family, my friends and for God. I'm giving up on my ideals and expectations and putting my hope in the One who has something wonderful in store for me. I'm desperate to make the best of my life as it is today, with the people I've been blessed to know and care for. Maybe that makes me a "quitter", a "loser" or a fool, but personally, I think that giving up makes me really quite brave. It's the biggest goal I've had to fight for so far.



 
Lauren is a twenty-something, Christ-following, accident-prone, career-minded and family-loving woman. She married her sweetheart, Jed, in 2010 and moved from her hometown in Pennsylvania to Virginia. She has since been adjusting to being one of three "Rieke Girls" in a pastor's family. She loves sweet tea, asian food, singing and all things musical. She enjoys working with teens and young adults, helping the broken find their healer, and looks forward to someday having a family of her own. But for now... she's blogging, working, serving and trying to navigate everyday life with new jobs, student loans, new family, new friends, and a lot of hope for the future.

(Thank you, Lauren, for your bravery that I've seen in you far beyond your post today. Your love for life and your drive to live it as honestly as possible is an inspiration.)



 

On the Road Again!

            

Today (actually yesterday, but I didn't want to steal Alison's lovely thunder) I am guest blogging at Defining My Happy for Jen Bosse's blog series Defining YOUR Happy. In my post I am describing a moment in my life that I would point to as one of my happiest. I'd love to see friendly, familiar faces over there if you are able! Happy Tuesday to you all!

A Return Journey and a Bit of Housecleaning

After spending a rainy morning in a coffee shop,

gazing at some colorful hermit crabs (that will never cross the threshold of the Urquhart household, much to my children's consternation),

and standing on the sandy fringes of the Atlantic one final time,

we have returned home. And if we weren't quite sure we had neared our destination, we ran into this fella and were instantly convinced that we were, in fact, once again in Lancaster County.

It was on our journey home that I was informed of some somber news. Bev, at the Black Ink Paperie blog (a blog I adore and religiously follow), has recently received the news that everyone fears. Her husband has been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. You can read the details on her most recent post. And I would admonish you all to visit her blog and give her a word of encouragement in this scary time for their family. But I was also amazed at, and greatly admire, how she ended her post--with a call to kindness. What wisdom to share even when facing the dark of the unknown. 

And, by way of a final announcement, we will have a guest writer on Monday that I am ecstatic to have because he is quite the elusive/reclusive figure and difficult to lure into the open. But he will be with us on Monday! Both his pen and his wit are razor sharp, so you will not want to miss it.

Hope you all have a fabulous Father's Day Weekend!

 

Had I But Known I Could Run and Breathe at the Same Time

guest post by: Drema Drudge

I had a Forrest Gump moment recently. Let me back up. I was born a sickly, asthmatic child. My mother loves to tell me how I was allergic to “everything,” including my own bacteria.  I was three before I could have ice cream and cake for my birthday. Gradually, I outgrew the allergies, but I didn’t outgrow the perception that I wasn’t capable of strenuous exercise. 

I wanted to play basketball. I loved running down the court, heart racing, stealing the ball, trying to make a basket. But my mom took one look at my flushed cheeks and promptly sat me down, no matter the sport. So I grew up. And out. Because exercise was forbidden me (except, please tell me why, gym class!), I became pudgy, thinking it was just my birthright.

Even though I wasn’t supposed to get overly warm, I always wanted to be in a triathlon, from the moment I read about them in a fitness magazine. I decided that since I knew how to swim (Sort of – when you’re as large as I was, you have total confidence that you won’t sink. Ever.), and I knew how to ride a bike (not a speed bike, admittedly, but how hard could it be? Turns out, very.), all I needed to do was practice running. Except. Except right outside of my parents’ West Virginia home, there was nothing but mountains and a dangerous road that coal trucks liked to speed down. Joy. Maybe I would just put that dream on hold, too.

I thought about running again when I was in college. Thought about it. As in, checked a magazine out of the library, read it, told my husband (I married young) that I would be back and ran out the door and down the block, got a side cramp, came back inside, and promptly gave up. 

Twenty–plus years later and I have managed to take off lots of weight, mostly by walking and lifting weights. Then I see a Biggest Loser episode where Jillian Michaels starts yelling at people bigger than me to go faster! They aren’t walking on the treadmills – they are running! I asked myself why I don’t run. I told myself it’s because I injured my left knee when I was about 23.  It’s true, but I haven’t really tried running to see if my knee can handle it. I just “know” that I can’t run because I am still the sickly child, right? 

I decided to give run/walking a half-hearted try, even entering two 5K’s. But this past October, despite a knee that was aching, when the herd started running at the start of the race, I caught myself running just as hard as they were. And I kept going. And going. And going. I ran the whole thing, not stopping once. I was exhausted.

No one said “Run, Drema, Run,” but our church’s associate pastor was standing on the sidelines, and she was cheering and that fueled me the rest of the way, and I ended up placing first in my category’s age group! That was a major turning point.  Why had I allowed others to define my abilities for so long?

I have run harder and faster every day since. Right now I am in training for a half marathon, and I’m within two miles of being able to do it. Had I but known I could run when I was back in college, I would have been running for years.

Well, at least maybe I’ve saved my knees a bit of wear and tear. Though I wish I had known then, at least I know now, and maybe that’s enough. What it has taught me is that I can do so much more than I ever thought possible. Every day I push myself a little harder to try a new idea, cook a new food, or submit another story. So in a way, I’m glad I didn’t know. Had I but known…there is so much I wouldn’t know now! 

Drema Drudge is an MFA student with Spalding University, a wife and mother. Her most recent work has been published in The Louisville Review, Mused, ATG, and Penumbra. She is a regular contributor to the popular Chicken Soup for the Soul series.  For more information about Drema, read her blog at: dremadrudge.wordpress.com.  

Thank you, Drema, for this inspirational piece! I am so honored by your visit and always revel in the loveliness of your prose.

 

Tomorrow's a Big Day!

Just a quick trumpeting announcement: tomorrow is guest blog day!

Signing our Silent Isle guest book for the blog series "Had I But Known" is the oh-so-talented Alicia Anthony. (And having already read her piece, I promise you will NOT want to miss it.)

While Alicia is captivating you here, I will be guest writing for Kate and her Nested blog series "That's When I Realized." And it's a post that I'm quaking a bit about--not only am I having to live up to all the other phenom guest writers she's had, but it's a post that bares a dark bit of my past that I haven't talked too much about. So if you're keen to read about an epiphonal moment I have had in my life, feel free to hustle over! I'd love to have my dear Isle Dwellers there for support.

Hope you all are having a fabulous weekend savoring the blooming onrush of Spring! 

See you tomorrow!

Anna

Top image from: georgeandjodi.com