did ya really mean it?

liam and i sat at our renovated kitchen table this morning, in our newly settled flat and were both amazed at how peaceful and content we were. it was beautiful. we were blessed to be involved in a neighbor's crisis last night (not blessed that she had to go through it, but that she came to us to help her) and we awoke this morning after a peaceful nights sleep with our children playing quietly and all seemed right with the world.

soon after buck got an invitation to a new family's house across the river. they seem like a wonderful family, people we could really be friends with. i said yes joyfully and headed off to drop him at their home... sigh.

all too soon my little flat looked measly and small. our achievements dwarfed and our belongings shabby. they moved in the same weekend we did (but from vancouver) and are renovating a great east coast rambler. 4 bathrooms, tin ceilings, sweeping staircases and rooms upon rooms, upon rooms... my contentment was quickly shattered. i found it difficult as pink and i shopped for groceries afterward to be present with her. not to be rehearsing my shame in my head.

how can what someone else has make mine less so quickly? we are debt free, have more than we need, centered in rich community and pursuing the education we always dreamed of - and yet... i could cry in my anger at myself for allowing my serenity to be stolen. we are heading there tonight for dinner - they are gracious, funny and fun - but so very far ahead of us materially. and i was just feeling really proud of the home we had created here. how fragile is that contentment? how weak are my words? how frustrated i am with myself because i have picked out the flaws in their lives already to soothe my ravaged calm.

their little boy picks his nose during church... the kitchen did smell a bit like cat pee... they've got to be in mountains of debt............... on and on i go only making myself feel worse instead of better.

i am processing here because of my deep need to be okay at dinner tonight. i want to be friends. i don't want to be that jealous 11 year old who looked at mary's life and never saw her, just all of the things she had. i want to truly be content, truly be sincere and rejoice in the life we have made here. it is just so very hard.

my pies are baking in the oven, i will wipe my tears and take my family in our broken down volvo to their lovely home and rejoice with those who rejoice. please pray that i will be sincere.

UPDATE: dinner was lovely, writing helped a lot. the edges of my pies burned - it was almost was enough to put me out - but i ate a piece and said 'we're bringing ice cream' - i didn't have any - (already had a piece of splenda pie!)

once there i realized they are just normal people with big dreams (a lot of debt) and struggling to make it like us. we had a really nice evening and he taught us how to make pizza - yummy! they also love sushi - so we're going to learn how to make it together.