Hard Blessings

I felt that way for awhile.  Constantly on edge.  Striving to control.  Craving some sense of structure.  I remembered back to a few years ago, when I was struggling with the same, and was so blessed by a book called One Thousand Gifts, by Ann Voskamp.  Within her pages, Ann pens beautiful poetic words as she shares her story of God changing her heart from one of bitterness, and hardened discontent, to one overflowing with joy, and beauty.  The funny thing, not a single thing about her circumstances changed.  He changed her.  He changed her perspective. He opened her eyes to see through His lens beauty even in hard.

After reading that book I was challenged, and I too found ways to find joy and praise Him even in the hard, but time went on.  Life happened.  My own lens grew clouded, and the scales formed over my eyes.  My vision was distorted and that old all too familiar feeling of discontent, and bitterness started to creep in once more.  Desperate for change I tried willing myself to be joyful.  I tried again and again in the frustrating daily grind to find joy, but kept falling short.  Fell short, because I was trying to be my own answer.  I was trying to have the strength to find joy on my own.  I forgot one important piece of the puzzle....Him.  I can't be truly joyful without Him.  Now don't get me wrong, I have always had Him since the day I became a Christian, but my walk ebbs and flows just like anyone's.  I get proud, and walk ahead of Him.  Rely on myself.  Do it on my own, and He just keeps facing me back toward Him.  I picked up that book again a few weeks ago, and was so challenged once more.  To find true joy we must thank Him....even for the bitter cup.  We must praise Him even in the hard.  We must know Him more to the depth of our being, that He is good.  He is always good.  It's practice.  It's a daily choice.  A shift in perspective to see life through His lens, and all that is good.  It's finding joy in simple moments, that if I am not careful, all too often quickly pass by.  It's there in those moments that I am humbled.  That I praise Him.  Praise Him for things otherwise left unnoticed.  Praise Him for the something that comes out of nothing.  For He put it there to bless.  He is a God of details, of beautiful intricate details.

This morning I had a few moments to myself to pen some of my own simple blessings.  Blessings I was overlooking before.  Some of them even felt suffocating at times, but as I am coming to realize once again, it's all in my perspective.  Seeing the world and this life He has given me through His lens brings blessing.  A heart full....

• Tiny trains scattered about on the kitchen floor
• Daughters bouncy curly mane of endless energy
• Midnight mama snuggles
• Sweet tiny curled fingers around strong hands
• Early morning hours in a quiet house
• Steaming first sips of coffee

A month ago the scattered trains and toys everywhere drove me crazy.  The bouncy mane of curls that belongs to my daughter was too much energy for me to handle.  Those midnight mama snuggles were becoming daunting and irritating when I was only focused on wanting to sleep, and how my time was being interrupted.  Those tiny fingers....it had been so long since I took notice to even see how much those fingers have even grown.  My sweet boy, is just that....a little boy.  No longer babe.  Small man child that I hope to raise to be able to stand up strong in the world someday.  Who someday will have his own strong hands with tiny curled fingers intertwined.  But today....today those tiny hands scattered trains about, and made train whistle sounds to his hearts content, asked mama to play, and read books, and that same sweet boy screamed at my feet when I made lunch, and screamed at my feet after his nap.  Begged me for cookies with tears turned tantrum, and had multiple timeouts yesterday, but see....it is good.  It is all good, and His heart desires me to find fullest joy even in tears turned tantrum, and late afternoon witching hour screams.  

Do you see?  Do you see how easy it is to focus on bad?  To turn bitter.  To turn cold.  To lose life.  I don't want that life.  It's a daily struggle to choose joy.  To choose intention.  To choose to live the life He has asked me to live with joy, not bitterness.  On my own, I cannot find true joy, but through Him I can.  He changes hearts.  He digs out weeds and removes thorns.  He heals deep wounds, and gives new life.  

Friends if you also struggle with true joy would you join me?  Consider purchasing a copy of Ann's book to aid you in your journey, or check out a copy from your local library.  Then challenge yourself everyday to look beyond the surface and thank Him, truly thank Him for the blessings He has placed in your life...big or small, and let Him change your heart to see life through His lens.  It's not about always being happy.  It's not about feeling bad when you are sad or angry.  It's about giving up those feelings to Him, and entrusting that this...even this, He intends to use for good. 

I know that I'll spend the rest of my life practicing, and I won't get it right time and time again, but I won't give up trying.  I won't stop letting Him change me, because the life I strive for here really is a tiny spot in comparison to eternity.  Those moments of tears turned tantrum that make me want to scream myself, are moments as I let Him turn my heart to thanksgiving towards Him, that I'm learning who He really is.  That my Father does this for me, for us, time and time again.  That His love and patience with us, His own children, is the most beautiful form of love there could ever be.  Without flaw.  Full of grace.  Unconditional love.  He could do nothing else, and that right there is a life full of blessing.

Be blessed,

It's My Birthday and I'll Cry If I Want To!

Somewhere along the line my birthday started to lose its luster.  Not because I'm afraid of the number.  Although I will admit larger numbers, linked to my age feel funny to me, only because I realize I am now the age my own mom was when she had me.  Weird.  It's not scary to me though...yet!  I'm notorious for not even remembering my own age in all honesty, and actually surprised I haven't forgotten my own birthday yet!  

This year was no different than any other.  I knew my birthday was coming (as it does every year :), but with us making preparations for Dave's family to visit us over Thanksgiving, and my birthday falling on the day they were leaving, I knew it would be a whirlwind weekend, and I myself thought I may even be guilty of forgetting it this year :)  Alas I remembered though.  The morning of my birthday was the last day that Dave's family would be there.  Dave was going back to work after the extended holiday weekend, and the kids and I would be dropping his parents and brother off at the airport midday.  

As I got out of bed and headed downstairs, I realized Dave's mom had already brought Alex downstairs to feed him breakfast...what a blessing, but as with any morning, the blessing of that moment quickly turned into irritation as I entered the kitchen, and the first words out of Abbie's mouth were "Can you turn my cartoons on?"  Followed by Alex's whines to get out of his highchair now that I was in view.  My detour to grab coffee first was quickly interrupted by more requests for cartoons, food, clothes to change into, and whining.  I was silent.  Internally starting to simmer, externally going through motions and making requests as I held back my irritation to "please say please", "one moment please", "let's get dressed first", and so on....I went into grab clean clothes out of the dryer, (for the mountain of unfolded clean laundry was my only option for clean clothes at the moment :).  As I was squatting down digging in the dryer,  Alex came up to give me a hug from behind, and bit me right in the middle of the back, and at that moment I started to cry.  I yelled at him and probably flicked him in the mouth in the process for doing so...I can't remember, but dangit.....something that continually baffles me about raising kids is how I can go from having a big smile on my face to crying angry bitter tears in a moment.  I wiped the tears from my cheeks and shook it off.  Picked him up and proceeded to go get my coffee.  Dave was downstairs preparing to leave at that point, and we were fixing our coffee next to each other.  I wanted to swallow it all.  Stuff it.  Not even bring up my birthday, and see who actually remembered, but then I knew what would happen.  I would wallow in that all day, and get more and more angry that no one remembered, and chances are, someone did, but it was just a busy weekend, and if they did forget, who can fault anyone for that?  We all have a lot on our plates, and so I swallowed my pride, and whispered "Guess what today is?" to him.  He smiled, and whispered back "Happy Birthday." A few minutes later as I was preparing my own breakfast I heard a chorus of voices beginning to sing "Happy Birthday" to me, and I looked up, and all I could see were the two sweet faces of the children I treasure most in the world, who moments ago made me so mad, now looking at me with sweet, beautiful, innocence, and a great depth of love for their mama.  That's it.  That moment I had just had where Abbie was demanding and annoying, and Alex was whining and bit me was long over in both of their minds.  I was the only one who still cared.  I was the only one holding onto bitterness and unforgiveness.  It was there in that moment that I realized....I am so blessed, and moments ago my heart had been hard and angry, and now my eyes brimmed with tears as I smiled at the simplicity of this blessed moment. 

Our lives as moms seem to be filled with endless demands and sacrifice.  Constantly giving until we are depleted with no reserves to draw from, and then in moments like this, we realize that our children may not ever give us a thing in return for what we have sacrificed for them, and we find a way within that to realize just how blessed we really are.  

They aren't perfect, but then again we aren't perfect children either.  When I find myself shaking my head at something my children do, or I feel like a broken record repeating the same instruction to my kids over and over again, I am humbled to realize how patient, and loving my own Savior is with me.  He gave everything for us, and yet still delights in us no matter how many mistakes we make, and how little we give in return.  That is the beauty of the gospel, and God continues to use my children to remind me of the depth of love He has for me.

My birthday was perfect,  Not defined by balloons, or cake, or lots of presents.  It was perfect because of the imperfect things that make up my life.  Those, imperfect moments, and more importantly, those imperfect people are the most beautiful parts of me.

Blessings,