Yesterday challenged the emotions, didn't it? Whew! Glad the first day of the new year is over. The pressure to manufacture joy or to bubble forth with glad tidings has ceased. Of course, if you read yesterday's post, you'll realize I neither manufactured joy nor bubbled forth with glad tidings. I moped and slumped in sadness. Although... a few glimpses of joy burst from under the clouds to brighten the mood.
So what happened? Ha ha! Well, at dinner, our youngest sat down and shouted, "eye!" "You? You need ice?" I asked. She squinted her two year-old eyes and yelled, "eye!" "You need ice?" She then poked herself in the eye and squealed, "EYE!" "OH! You have eyes?" "YES!" She commenced to giggling uncontrollably. Thank God for toddlers.
Other wonderful things that happened last night and today? Our youngest son snuggled with me. Our oldest son and I walked down the hall - and he held my hand! My husband told me he appreciated everything I do for him and our family. A son cleaned up his mess after (accidentally) dumping oatmeal all over the floor. And... tonight my husband and I have a date night where we only have to spend time with each other, no shopping or scurrying, just us being together.
Even when the big picture looks bleak, there are glimpses of joy. Or do I have it backwards? Is the big picture bright and joyful with spots of bleakness? I don't know. And... I don't know that I care one way or the other, but I am very thankful for the gut-busting laughter and the sweet, quiet moments.
Showing posts with label joy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label joy. Show all posts
Saturday, January 2, 2010
Monday, June 1, 2009
Joy - It Took Awhile
Friday evening I sat in this very seat, basking in the glow of my family. It was... joy. Joy. Yep. After a long week of wondering if there was something wrong with me for not flitting about with bubbles circling my head (although I'm not thrilled with the bubble idea), the work week ended with joy.
How did I get there? Well. Let's examine the week:
Big sigh.
We had to cancel plans for our anniversary trip. We had planned to spend our anniversary at an all-inclusive resort in Mexico, much like the one we enjoyed on our honeymoon. Prudence convinced me not to buy plane tickets until we took care of a few things, just in case. Well, "just in case" turned into reality and then reality turned into responsibility and responsibility turned into canceling the trip. I cried. I pouted. I was not my best self. But I didn't use money we didn't have to get what I wanted. Again, responsibility. Someday we'll go back to Mexico in real life. I say "real life" because we both visit there occasionally, if only in our minds. It's such a lovely place. Beautiful beaches. Lots of food. Lots of frosty beverages. No responsibilities. I digress...
In taking care of "reality," we depleted our resources considerably. We weren't broke, although I felt broke. Last week felt like a continual outlay of cash. Throw in another visit to the pediatrician and another certifiably sick kid and the money kept leaking out of the bank account. I'd been in the pediatrician's office with one or more sick kids every week since early March. Another sick kid meant another visit to the pharmacy. Adios, cash. Add it all up and and it was not a joy-filled week. It was a grumpy, testy, had-enough kind of week.
I kept hearing my declaration to the powers of darkness to "bring it on." Yeah. Maybe I shouldn't have done that? Maybe that was the problem? No. No. God is bigger than the boogieman. (Thank you, Veggie Tales.) I was missing something. What was it? By Friday afternoon I felt empty and worn and spiritually flattened and desperately needed my load lifted.
And then...
Friday afternoon came. With it came my darling husband who arrived home early. Not only did he arrive early, he had stopped by the store. While staying within budget, he bought tasty bits to grill. He commandeered dinner. The kids played with cheerful abandon. I sat in this very seat. I surveyed my family and felt something filling my heart that had been vacant from my heart all week: Joy.
I know it sounds trite. I don't care. I say it is true: Joy isn't in a vacation or a bank account or a weeks' break from the doctor's office or not seeing the sympathetic smile from the pharmacist who saw you just a few days ago. Joy is being with the ones you love, who love you, who don't care about unlimited margaritas or 24-hour room service or multiple digits in the savings account. Joy is simple. It is stripped of the fluff of life. And it isn't found surrounded by fuzzy bunnies, rainbows, or bubbles. Thank God.
How did I get there? Well. Let's examine the week:
Big sigh.
We had to cancel plans for our anniversary trip. We had planned to spend our anniversary at an all-inclusive resort in Mexico, much like the one we enjoyed on our honeymoon. Prudence convinced me not to buy plane tickets until we took care of a few things, just in case. Well, "just in case" turned into reality and then reality turned into responsibility and responsibility turned into canceling the trip. I cried. I pouted. I was not my best self. But I didn't use money we didn't have to get what I wanted. Again, responsibility. Someday we'll go back to Mexico in real life. I say "real life" because we both visit there occasionally, if only in our minds. It's such a lovely place. Beautiful beaches. Lots of food. Lots of frosty beverages. No responsibilities. I digress...
In taking care of "reality," we depleted our resources considerably. We weren't broke, although I felt broke. Last week felt like a continual outlay of cash. Throw in another visit to the pediatrician and another certifiably sick kid and the money kept leaking out of the bank account. I'd been in the pediatrician's office with one or more sick kids every week since early March. Another sick kid meant another visit to the pharmacy. Adios, cash. Add it all up and and it was not a joy-filled week. It was a grumpy, testy, had-enough kind of week.
I kept hearing my declaration to the powers of darkness to "bring it on." Yeah. Maybe I shouldn't have done that? Maybe that was the problem? No. No. God is bigger than the boogieman. (Thank you, Veggie Tales.) I was missing something. What was it? By Friday afternoon I felt empty and worn and spiritually flattened and desperately needed my load lifted.
And then...
Friday afternoon came. With it came my darling husband who arrived home early. Not only did he arrive early, he had stopped by the store. While staying within budget, he bought tasty bits to grill. He commandeered dinner. The kids played with cheerful abandon. I sat in this very seat. I surveyed my family and felt something filling my heart that had been vacant from my heart all week: Joy.
I know it sounds trite. I don't care. I say it is true: Joy isn't in a vacation or a bank account or a weeks' break from the doctor's office or not seeing the sympathetic smile from the pharmacist who saw you just a few days ago. Joy is being with the ones you love, who love you, who don't care about unlimited margaritas or 24-hour room service or multiple digits in the savings account. Joy is simple. It is stripped of the fluff of life. And it isn't found surrounded by fuzzy bunnies, rainbows, or bubbles. Thank God.
Thursday, May 28, 2009
Joy - I'm Failing
This week is the "joy" week of the Fruit of the Spirit Challenge (Galatians 5:22-23). I'm failing at it. I've laughed this week, but haven't experienced "joy." I've been happy this week. Satisfied. Contented. But joy? No.
This revelation led me to examine the meaning of the word "joy." Even reading the definitions, both verb and noun, hasn't helped me feel better about my progress this week. I'm satisfied, but my heart isn't full of glee and I'm not delighted and I'm not experiencing a state of felicity. What a bummer.
What am I doing wrong? Am I not lighthearted enough? Do I take things too seriously? Is it okay to simply be content and satisfied and pleased? Is joy something I must experience daily? What level of joy?
The concordance in my Bible wasn't particularly helpful. I wanted a chart or something. The best explanation is Paul saying in Philippians 4:4-5 "Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! Let your gentleness be evident to all."
Well, good grief. I can't sustain joy all the time. I just can't. I know God loves me. I'm practicing gentleness - or at least I attempt it. I'm a mom. How can I not be gentle? But do I have to be in a state of cartwheels and rainbows all the time?
This requires more thought. More later.
By the way, thought I'd let it be known "Jon and Kate Plus 8" has been removed from my DVR series recordings. I can't do it anymore. The season 5 premiere hurt my heart too much. Their train will have to wreck or right itself without my visual attention. Shame on all involved for keeping the cameras rolling. And I'm most bent out of shape about everyone attacking Kate. She's only half of Jon and Kate. What about blasting Jon, too? Better yet, back off and leave them both alone. And Jon and Kate? Please finish your contract and close your doors and be a family. Please. Still praying for you. Much love, Jen
This revelation led me to examine the meaning of the word "joy." Even reading the definitions, both verb and noun, hasn't helped me feel better about my progress this week. I'm satisfied, but my heart isn't full of glee and I'm not delighted and I'm not experiencing a state of felicity. What a bummer.
What am I doing wrong? Am I not lighthearted enough? Do I take things too seriously? Is it okay to simply be content and satisfied and pleased? Is joy something I must experience daily? What level of joy?
The concordance in my Bible wasn't particularly helpful. I wanted a chart or something. The best explanation is Paul saying in Philippians 4:4-5 "Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! Let your gentleness be evident to all."
Well, good grief. I can't sustain joy all the time. I just can't. I know God loves me. I'm practicing gentleness - or at least I attempt it. I'm a mom. How can I not be gentle? But do I have to be in a state of cartwheels and rainbows all the time?
This requires more thought. More later.
By the way, thought I'd let it be known "Jon and Kate Plus 8" has been removed from my DVR series recordings. I can't do it anymore. The season 5 premiere hurt my heart too much. Their train will have to wreck or right itself without my visual attention. Shame on all involved for keeping the cameras rolling. And I'm most bent out of shape about everyone attacking Kate. She's only half of Jon and Kate. What about blasting Jon, too? Better yet, back off and leave them both alone. And Jon and Kate? Please finish your contract and close your doors and be a family. Please. Still praying for you. Much love, Jen
Sunday, May 24, 2009
Love - the Rest of the Week
It occurs to me that I left the last blog with the statement that I have sacrificed. It sounds so much more noble and heroic than it is. Long story short, I've had several miscarriages. While I desperately wanted those babies, they weren't ours to have. While I make daily or weekly or lifestyle sacrifices, the most painful experience I've had was losing babies. I don't get my hair cut often because it's expensive. I don't buy many clothes for myself because I find other ways to spend the money. Those are sacrifices that I make for my family. Does God call me to make them? I don't know. I do know that when I keep a little bit more in the family coffers, it means we can have another pizza night or I can buy quality shoes for the kids. To me, that's a no-brainer.
So this week has been about love. It's strange. The expectation of flowers and hearts and rainbows did follow me around. Instead of seeing the commercial expression of love or feeling this burgeoning sense of emotion for my family, this week was about... you guessed it, sacrifice.
This week I saved the family three months worth of buying commercial detergent and made it at home. (I'll post about that later.) Our younger son asked for a pinata. So, yesterday I bought the supplies and today we began the process of making one. (I'll post about that, too.) My husband wanted a "home-date" (we have a date at home while the kids are occupied), so I picked up Indian food and we had a lovely time eating and visiting. It all sounds very mundane, but what this week was about for me was getting offline and spending time with my family.
The unnamed goal became putting them first and showing them through my actions that I loved them. Huh. Until I wrote that, I didn't realize fully what I'd been doing. I love my family. They don't require the commercial expressions of love, but the act of it. Thanks for the lesson, God.
This week also proved challenging. We had a new roof installed. The plumber came back out to flush the line for the kitchen faucet. I felt as if all week I had strangers in my house and couldn't catch a rhythm.
This week also brought a milestone. Our second son finished preschool. What a new mom emotion! He performed songs with his class on stage and the sight made my eyes leak. Seriously, someone should stand at the entrance and hand out tissues! I watched him and thought he had an entire year of school that had nothing to do with me. I was so proud. He's doing so well. He loved it. His teachers loved him. He made a really good friend. (And bonus: I really like his friends' mom!)
But there I was, watching my boy. He's growing up. My little girl was sitting next to me, mimicking the movements of the kids onstage. I sat there and realized that I am the memory keeper. The night before, my daughter asked me to read her board books. This is a first. She's never been willing to sit still before. She sat in my lap and we read and read. After she was down for the night, I pulled the boys' favorite board books out and we read them. These were the books they knew by heart. These were the books I caught them "reading" out loud. They didn't remember any of them. How could they not remember? It was only a few years ago. I remember it like yesterday, maybe better than yesterday.
So while this week was about my expressions of love, it was also a week that took my breath away. I don't quite have words for it, yet. I need a mom who's been down this road to show me the way or give me the words, I think. I am the mom. I am the memory keeper. I am the one who has seen it and been there. And in two weeks, my first grader will be out of school and another year will have gone by. For all my "being there," my sons are now in a realm where I can't follow. They are in school. They are developing lives separate from mine. While I used to begrudge the school the time it took away from me having my child with me, now I like it. I like that my kids are slowly learning independence. Anyway, I digress. That's a whole other post. Another day.
Tomorrow... the week of joy begins.
So this week has been about love. It's strange. The expectation of flowers and hearts and rainbows did follow me around. Instead of seeing the commercial expression of love or feeling this burgeoning sense of emotion for my family, this week was about... you guessed it, sacrifice.
This week I saved the family three months worth of buying commercial detergent and made it at home. (I'll post about that later.) Our younger son asked for a pinata. So, yesterday I bought the supplies and today we began the process of making one. (I'll post about that, too.) My husband wanted a "home-date" (we have a date at home while the kids are occupied), so I picked up Indian food and we had a lovely time eating and visiting. It all sounds very mundane, but what this week was about for me was getting offline and spending time with my family.
The unnamed goal became putting them first and showing them through my actions that I loved them. Huh. Until I wrote that, I didn't realize fully what I'd been doing. I love my family. They don't require the commercial expressions of love, but the act of it. Thanks for the lesson, God.
This week also proved challenging. We had a new roof installed. The plumber came back out to flush the line for the kitchen faucet. I felt as if all week I had strangers in my house and couldn't catch a rhythm.
This week also brought a milestone. Our second son finished preschool. What a new mom emotion! He performed songs with his class on stage and the sight made my eyes leak. Seriously, someone should stand at the entrance and hand out tissues! I watched him and thought he had an entire year of school that had nothing to do with me. I was so proud. He's doing so well. He loved it. His teachers loved him. He made a really good friend. (And bonus: I really like his friends' mom!)
But there I was, watching my boy. He's growing up. My little girl was sitting next to me, mimicking the movements of the kids onstage. I sat there and realized that I am the memory keeper. The night before, my daughter asked me to read her board books. This is a first. She's never been willing to sit still before. She sat in my lap and we read and read. After she was down for the night, I pulled the boys' favorite board books out and we read them. These were the books they knew by heart. These were the books I caught them "reading" out loud. They didn't remember any of them. How could they not remember? It was only a few years ago. I remember it like yesterday, maybe better than yesterday.
So while this week was about my expressions of love, it was also a week that took my breath away. I don't quite have words for it, yet. I need a mom who's been down this road to show me the way or give me the words, I think. I am the mom. I am the memory keeper. I am the one who has seen it and been there. And in two weeks, my first grader will be out of school and another year will have gone by. For all my "being there," my sons are now in a realm where I can't follow. They are in school. They are developing lives separate from mine. While I used to begrudge the school the time it took away from me having my child with me, now I like it. I like that my kids are slowly learning independence. Anyway, I digress. That's a whole other post. Another day.
Tomorrow... the week of joy begins.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
LinkWithin
