finding my joy

I know my true joy comes from God but this is an area I struggle with.  I think laid back people are generally more joyful than intense people. I know I am intense. I am reminded of it every day, many times over (usually by myself as in I drive myselfcrazy). 
So, I read a lot of blogs. There are so many women who have it all together. They wake up and their house is neat and breakfast is not a crazy struggle. They love cuddling with their kids and taking walks. They love baking cookies together and picking flowers. Don't get me wrong. I do enjoy doing these things. I just have to work at it. 
When I wake up, it is usually to chaos. Noah needs his meds, Josh's nurse is coming in the door, Ephram has wet through his sheets for the third time this week, and Zoe is starving. Making eggs sounds like too much work because then I will have to clean a dirty pan. Who wants Cinnamon Toast Crunch? Healthy, I know. I have learned to make eggs in the microwave. I am the queen of microwave pancakes. 

So, am I am normal? Why do I have to work at it? Why am I not just a bit more "chill," a little more "Urban Outfitters" which is a whole nother story all together.

One of my girlfriends sent me a Facebook request to join a page to "bring Urban Outfitters to Grand Rapids." I didn't really pay attention, just thought, hmmmm, I've never shopped there. Fast forward a few days. I was in NYC this weekend visiting my cousin and we went into Urban Outfitters. To say I was out of place was the understatement of the century. I told Josh that if I tried to wear their clothes it would all be a complete "hoax." Just me trying to look a bit more indie, chill, a lot more not me. 

I'm more of a Gap, Old Navy, Banana Republic clearance section type of girl. 
So, back to my joy. I want to find joy in the small things. I want to enjoy my kids while they are small and not wish the time away because life is hectic. So, I have decided to do something about it. Every day, I'm going to do one thing that I would normally NOT do because I'm cleaning, doing dishes, talking on the phone, checking my e-mail...you get the picture. Just busy. I've been doing this lately. But now I'm going to update one time a day. It's going to force me to get back to blogging. 

No, I'm not organic eating mom, not patchouli wearing, just a typical middle-class mom who feeds her kids Spaghettios for lunch and yells at them to get back in bed for the eighth time tonight. I yell at my husband, and I'm not always nice. 

But guess what? Jesus loves me all the same. It is my responsibility to be the woman He calls me to be. He gave me this personality (neurotic as it is) and I'm going to be more proactive about finding my joy.

Today I had a tea party with Noah and Zoe and we had real tea. We got out all the fixins and even had cookies. Wow. Supermom. (that's a bit of sarcasm for you...)

* finding my joy

We all have struggles, and one of mine is struggling to unplug enough to have a tea party with my kids or to go for a walk when I know I should be preparing dinner. I'm always looking for the next project that needs to be completed and looking for the next few minutes of down time. The problem is, doing these type of things, being a bit more chill, is one of my desires.From now on every time I do something that is against my own nature but is in pursuit of trying to find my joy, I will tell you what I did at the end of that day's post and I will highlight it by putting this cute little bar here...You'll probably be surprised with how little and inconsequential these things are. I'm just a real mom who does not want to wish away the hard things and miss the joys of my young children. Every day, I make a consious effort to do one thing that I would not normally do because it is too messy, long-winded, or just what I don't want to do. I want my kids to grow up to remember a mom who loved them and experienced life with them.

marriage

"Complacency and indifference leads to unhappiness."  

This is not some well known little saying, just something that kept banging around in my head last night while I couldn't sleep. I was laying in bed next to Josh, being thankful for where we are at. 

When Ava died and we made it through that whole ordeal with our marriage intact, I thought we were indestructible. Maybe not indestructible but definitely not struggling. So, when Josh broke his neck, I remember leaning over his hospital bed, trying to talk to him while it was turning his body back and forth, and telling him, "We are going to make it!" I didn't really doubt this.

Until 6 months ago.  

So, after Josh got hurt, we were going on adrenaline for a long time. It seemed like we got closer at first. Then, once he got home and we were trying to establish a new normal, reality set in. It was ugly. I am naturally a very selfish person. I want what's best for me. I want what's easiest for me. So, when he needed me, I instead turned inward. I became somewhat indifferent to the struggle he was going through because I could barely cope with mine. When we were doing "okay," I thought that was good enough. 

It's not. 

It led to a wretched life that I could barely recognize as my own. One where my needs came before Josh's. Josh's needs came before mine. One where we were going completely separate ways. And six months ago, I was okay with that.

It seemed way easier. 

Except, that's not what God had planned for us.

I'm not sure when we thought it was okay to stop praying together or spending time in the Bible together. I don't know if I thought we could do this on our own, but I know we can't. When we stopped spending quiet time together, things went really south. Really south. Like Antarctica South. 

It's amazing to me that God can still restore a marriage that is falling apart at the seams. Even when, at first, I didn't really want it to. Am I allowed to say that? So much had happened that I wasn't even sure that I wanted to put forth the effort it would take to get things to where they needed to be. God changed that. He changed my heart and my desires. 

We have spent a significant amount of time in counseling and trying to learn what real communication looks like. Not what it looks like everyone else, but to us. It is amazing to me to start figuring out some of the core issues we had long before we even lost Ava. I am selfish, and as Josh said in his last post, he is prideful. 

We are ugly.

But God is working in us. I never want to be back to where we were 6 months ago. 

I like laying in bed next to my husband and feeling an overwhelming sense of love for him. I like being able to snuggle up next to him while he's sleeping and hear him wake up with a smile on his face. 

I never want to get back to that point of indifference and complacency. It's a dirty place, and oh so easy to get to. 

God delivered.

pride onion

Hello. This is Josh. Long time… no talky. ☺

I talked to a guy and a girl this week who recently lost their jobs. They both feel a little worthless. (A story that many of us are hearing or telling lately) I know a girl who struggles with drug use. I know a guy who rarely sees his kids because he doesn’t know how to talk to his ex-wife.

The theme in church yesterday was pride.  It was said that most (read “all”) sins stem from the sin of pride. Is this possible? With so many of us struggling daily wanting to be taller, smarter, skinnier, wealthier, what ever…  can it also be possible that we struggle with pride?

To be completely honest, pride has probably always been my sin of choice. I don’t think I’ve ever been the up-in-your-face-and-braggadocious type…  I like people too much to try to make them feel bad. But when it comes down to it, my personality likes to think that it can do X, Y, and Z  better than most everybody else. I guess there is an “I need to believe in myself” issue as well. If we’re going to do something and do it well, we need to believe in ourselves.

But that’s not what I’m talking about.  I’m talking about us trying to work our lives out on our own terms.  “Sure I love God, and I will read my Bible some, and I’ll go to church, and I’ll listen to some Christian music.” But when it comes down to it, if God tries to veer us off of our own predetermined course, pride it rears its ugly head.

 After our daughter Ava died, I thought I did a pretty good job of putting my pride on the shelf. Then, after I was paralyzed, I thought I put my pride on the shelf. After all… being in a wheelchair and depending on so many people for so many things has a humbling (read “humiliating”) effect.

In reality,I don’t think that I let those things check my pride at all. It hasn’t been until the past five or six months that God has really begun to peel back the layers of my pride… kind of like an onion –  smelly.

Have I really earned anything on my own? God has gifted me with the skills and personality that I have. God saw to it that I was born into the family that I was. God saw to it that I was born in the country and in the time that I was. How is it then that I can get prideful about who I am and my accomplishments? I owe everything to God.

Beyond that, I am also prideful about what God owes me. 

I love working with my hands. I love building decks, landscaping, finishing basements, mowing, making homemade pasta, entertaining, grilling, working with electronics… and on and on.

I love music. I play guitar, piano, turntables, mandolin, harmonica… I love singing.

I love sports. I play basketball, I mountain bike, I golf (read “slice”), I jog, I lift weights, I sail, I wakeboard, I scuba dive, I play soccer… and on and on.

I love my family. I love throwing my kids are around and wrestling with them. I like camping.  I like doing Zoe’s hair.  I like playing catch. I like teaching how to make a layup. I like tucking my kids in. I like the look on Shelly’s face when she comes home to a clean house when she wasn’t expecting it. I enjoy fixing things around the house when they break.

But now I can’t do any of those things.

A person that I barely know gets paid to help me get out of bed every day. I need help taking a shower, using the restroom, cutting my bushy red beard, getting dressed, putting on cologne, and lots of other things.  Without abdominal muscles, I can’t sneeze or cough very well. I have trouble picking my nose. I can’t eat pizza unless it is cut up into pieces for me. I have to drink using a straw.

With society’s view of what a man, husband, and dad is… where do I find my value?  Where do I find my identity? 

Doesn’t God owe me more than this?

The answer is no… He doesn’t. I am just now beginning to be okay with that. I think that I am finally finding the definition of humility. It’s not thinking that we are worse than everybody at everything, but it’s knowing that God owes us nothing and being truly at peace with that thought.

Before you start to think that I am saying that I am unusually brave or insightful or godly… I’m not. I actually think that it is pitiful that God had to humble me in so many ways before I actually saw how deep my pride really ran. But praise God, he finally rooting it out at me! Yes!

I talked to a guy and a girl this week who lost their jobs. I know a girl who struggles with drug use. I know a guy who rarely sees his kids because he doesn’t know how to talk to his ex-wife.

We may lose our jobs. Are we so proud that we find our identity in our employment? Life may not be going the way that we thought it would. Does that mean that we will turn to drugs (or maybe other more PC addictions) to cope with the pain of not getting what we deserve? Maybe we have had to endure a divorce. Maybe someone we love has deeply hurt us. Does that mean that we will pass the pain down to our kids because we are too proud to make that connection?

Pride might be at the root of most of the sins that I commit, but I feel like God and I have finally turned a corner. There may be many more corners to come, but I am so thankful for the peace he is bringing me and the many many many blessings that He has brought into my life.