Joy

There are these people in our homes, in our lives, in our hearts who are desperate to celebrate each blessed day with us.  They are the ones who stop the raking to throw the leaves.  But you and I... we keep raking.  

As the leaves fluttered back down upon the driveway, this Word descended with them:

Be still and know that I am God.  Psalm 46:10

If I could take a poll, broad and sweeping, I would ask women if Joy was on their short list of goals the new year.  "More happy time as a family, more smiling, more laughter..."  In my eleven years as a mom, this desperate desire to enjoy my people has been a reoccurring theme.

I love a good musical.  One of my favorite theatrical elements is the song writer's masterful ability to weave a reoccurring musical theme  throughout the diverse tapestry of songs.  A simple thread throughout.  One melodic pattern, subtly repeating, tying the story, characters and themes together.  I long for Joy, and not the pursuit of Joy, to be the reoccurring theme of my days. Interwoven through the ups and down, amidst the trials and celebrations of family life... Joy.  Yes, the composer who sang our lives into existence, the orchestrator of our story, desires that for us.

However, if I were honest with you, and you know I strive to be, I would have to say that the most recurring of themes in my mothering life has been joylessness.  This has all been so much harder than I expected it would be, and there was post-partum depression, hormonal imbalance and adrenal fatigue, my husband traveled for work, and my spirit sank low.  And all the while children were born.

Don't get me wrong, there was intense love and happy moments throughout, and I love these little people with an everlasting love, but my soul has spent more downcast years than I care to admit.  And each new year brought about the same Resolution:

Joy...

Until his year, when I threw my hands up in faith and resolved to resolve no more, and told the Lord that He could do it all!

The LORD will fight for you; you need only to be still. Exodus 14:14

And the leaves came down.  And my hands came down.  And the Word came down.  Be still and know... 

Be still and know that I am God. Psalm 46:10

In the striving it's what we know... but in the stillness it's who we know.  Here in the stillness of unhurried moments, I am finding God.  And the glorious I-can't-believe-it part, is that as I find Him, I find Joy.

In Your Presence is fullness of Joy! Psalm 16:11

After all these years of going about it all wrong, I'm finding Joy.  And you're never going to believe this.... it truly is just like the lovliest of melodies, playing through the smiles of my people and the colors of the sunsets and the smell of bacon frying.  A simple melodic ribbon, tying together all the sights and scents and sounds that constitute my life.  I am surprised by it all. Most surprised by the joy.  Because I strived long and hard to embrace it, the Joy, all these years.  But it could only be found when I stopped striving and started abiding.

"Abide in my love..." He said it clear this time.   And I replied with trembling lips, upturned, "In Your Presence is fullness of Joy."

Joy...

I sought for years to embrace Joy, but only when I ceased from striving could Joy finally embrace me.

And there is peace and there is love and there is gentleness and self-control... The whole blessed basket of spiritual fruit we talk about is ripe for the picking!  I see now how all of the fruit really does come up and into our lives from the abiding root of being still and knowing that He, indeed, is God.

Joy...

I find it ironic that one of my sweetest friends, Christy over at The Write Season,  has begun an online movement called Joy Resolution.  I know that I just told you how I found my Joy by resolving to let go of resolutions, but our hearts beat the same... that you would know His incredible Joy-infusing Presence each day.  Follow Christy's Joy Resolution on FB, and share your Joy Stories with us.

Cease from striving

Only six days into the new year and already the Lord is honoring my humble cry for Revolution.  No, walls are not rattling and rocks are not rumbling and men are not marching, but there's an uprising in my heart, because I asked The Lord to Resolve to do a new thing.

 

See, I am doing a new thing!

Now it springs up; do you not perceive it?

I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland.

Isaiah 43:19

At the turn of the year I refused to focus on external goals, but committed instead to surrender the wasteland places of my heart to the only One able to bring them to life again; to change and transform me from what I have been to what He has purposed.  And I feel this new thing springing up, I do!  How do I know?  Simple.  There is peace.  My heart is less constrained within my breast and my palms are lying face up.  Vulnerable, resting, upturned, and expectant.

There is no striving here.

It sounds like a simpleton's barometer to calculate the Holy Spirit's presence, but try it for yourself.  Open your hands.  Not necessarily in Praise, though that may come, but simply turn your palms up there in your humble lap, upon your worn jeans or faded yoga pants.  See how your heart ceases to push itself and slows instead to the rhythms of rest.

When I turn my hands this way it's as though I'm giving it all up, expecting better in return.  And my breathing slows.  And my striving stills.  Fingers gently curl around nothing and everything at once, and my eyes prick with tears. It's a Holy thing this vulnerable, upturned, empty-handed life.

There is trusting here.

I'm learning in the midst of this revolutionary nearness that Striving and Trusting cannot coexist.  They are light and dark.  They are polar extremes.  But so often, here in our Christianity, we think that one leads to the other. We think that striving leads to more faith, and that striving will bring us rest.  We think that striving will allow us to love God better, and that striving will allow us to love others better with His love.

But it doesn't.

Striving and Trusting will never coexist.

We strive to decorate His Name with our pens and with our invites, with our crafts and with our menus, with our volunteering, and with our eloquence... but we can only glorify His Name if we are dwelling, resting, abiding... in His Love.

Abide in my love. John 15:9

Here in the hollow of my upturned hands, where my life line and love lines cross, I find myself abiding.  It was not my New Year's Resolution, it was simply all that remained when I gave the year completely to Him.  These next 365 days are cradled in the hollow of His hand, and so am I.

Cease from striving.

And the miracle of all New Year's miracles, is that many of the resolutions I have made in years past are finding their way into my life.  I'm not striving for them anymore, but surprisingly there they are!  The laughter, the calm, the joy...

Striving must have made me mad.

I don't know how else to say it.  Striving must have absolutely worn me down and worn me out.  "I resolve to love better and be more patient..." and the striving for the peace left me wearier than before.  "I will laugh more and play with my children..." but the striving kept me busy so I never sat down.  "This year I will be in God's Word each day and memorize this and lead a small group there and bring a breakfast dish to our playdate each week..."  And suddenly all the fun and laughter has been crowded out with the striving and the going.

You need only to be still.

Our new year began with it's bells and sparkle, and snow falling just up the mountain from our home.  My husband said, "let's go," and because I was not consumed by my goals I said a simple yes, and began the crazy race to find snow clothes for three boys and a man and a woman.  And we went up the mountain.

What more could a woman want but room to live lives free from striving, that we might simply enjoy knowing that He is God together.    With upturned hands and resting hearts.

Abiding

Cease and Know

Abide and Grow

Slow and Low

for I Am God

Peace be still

resting 'till

you know my will

for I Am God

Stop and rest

against my breast

My Peace is best

Abide.

Abide in Love

Here in my Love

You are my Love

Peace, be still.

Here's to a Simple Christmas without emotional meltdowns (yours or theirs)

I get easily overwhelmed.  I noticed it in college first, how I couldn't take as many classes, and hold down a job, and be in a play, and have a roommate who stayed up late talking on the phone... I needed lots of white noise, plenty of peace and quiet and stillness to feel centered and calm.  

I still do.

Today, amidst homeschooling and meal planning and speaking to women's groups, I still get overwhelmed.  But it's not as easy as dropping a class, because now I'm a mom and I can't drop a kid.  I used to break down and have a good cry session in my dorm room, burying my face into my fluffy peach comforter until I felt all poured out and better.  But a quiet afternoon to wail and reboot isn't realistic now, and the "all poured out" feelings hold new meaning as I give and serve and care.

All poured out.

I've got all these people who make noise and get hungry and want clean clothes and a ride to flag football and karate and music lessons.  And it's my privilege to listen and feed and clean and drive.  But I get all stressed out in the loving.

And I've got a twitch in my left eye.

But here's what I've learned about sensitive moms, moms who are easily overwhelmed by the busyness of life... we can be terribly quick to nag and yell and even explode at those we love most.  It's so convoluted!  Because, you see, we're all worn out from LOVING... so we don't act loving.  We're all worn out from the giving, so we don't give the best part of ourselves.  Our intentions are wonderful; to provide fun and good food and a clean home and parties and help in their classes and host play dates... then we get all out-of-sorts from the constant giving and then we lack love.

Love is an action, I've heard is said and so have you, but that doesn't mean going all the time.  The deepest loving is communicated through gentle whispers, in a game of catch, in movie night snuggles, in simply listening to what our children have to tell us in the safe quiet places of our home life.

It's hard to sit and listen when we're too busy loving.

And now it's Christmas and there are presents to wrap and cookies to bake, which means more tape to buy and a kitchen to clean, and "are all the kids stockings about the same size?"  So you run back to the store again for another bottle of bubble bath.  Add to the load a Christmas Kitchen Remodel, so there's dust everywhere and no food, and our guests will be here tomorrow night!  And I'm worn out from the going and doing and decorating... so I snap at the kid who keeps asking the same question.

I'm worn out from all the busyness of loving, that's my excuse to act unloving.

This is simple. SO SIMPLE. Yet hard. SO HARD.

Are you shortest on patience when your intentions are most loving. You give and you give, during the holidays and everyday! And then, all spent, you lack tenderness, gentleness, and self-control. But the goal was to give and to love! The goal was love.

Loading the kids in the car you run back to the house for the thermos full of cocoa and Santa hats for everyone.  But by the time you get to the street that's covered in Christmas lights, the sound of your children singing "Joy to the world" one more time makes you lose your head... lose your heart... and crush theirs.

If this is you, then choose with me to simplify this Christmas. Forgo the hot cocoa and the hats, leave the dishes in the sink, grab hold of their daddy's hand as you drive to see Christmas lights... and sing along.

 Buy fewer gifts, so you can be the gift.

Make fewer sweets, so you can be sweet.

Light fewer candles, so you have the energy to let your own light shine.

Make it a simple Christmas, Mamas. The goal is love.

Just a couple of weeks ago I offered you a pass to simplify Thanksgiving, and one sweet reader asked me to remind her again at Christmas.  Consider this my reminder...

The goal is love.

And so today I bid y'all a very Merry (simple) Christmas and the happiest of New Years.  I will be closing down the blog for these special days, so that I can LOVE, simply love, my most cherished husband and children this Christmas.

Want to know why I was petrified to light the Advent candle last Sunday?

I was the one upfront last Sunday, looking so put together next to my husband and our three boys, all five of us coordinated. When the choir finished "Hark the Herald Angels Sing" we took the steps behind the pastor, then gathered round the advent wreath waiting for our cue.  The boys were still as stone.  I didn't dare breath.

Then came the moment Pastor Scott said our name and the ten year old began reading Matthew 1:18-24, how the Holy Spirit had come to Mary and she conceived the Savior of the world. His high pitched voice rang clear as his childlike faith. The nine year old brother went to light the candle, but it was too high so I took the lighter and did it for him and gave him a kiss, like an apology.  That's when I noticed the smile.  First his, then mine, and before I knew it I saw my husband smiling down at our six year old who was praying, also grinning, telling God how thankful he is for our church and everyone there that morning. Then he thanked God for sending us Jesus, Amen.

Amen and it was done.

We walked back down to our little pew, rustling hair and patting backs for a job well done. We were smiling and the congregation gave their smiles back to us.  So I finally took a deep breath, and a tear rolled fat and heavy down my cheek because I had been SURE my kids were going to burn the church down that morning - which really isn't far-fetched, for those of you who know our boys.

We didn't have extended family with us and all of our close friends from church were in their Sunday School classes or helping in the children's ministry during that service.  So, I asked a complete stranger to take my camera and snap a few photos of our family that morning.  So thankful he said yes and thankful for this captured moment with smiles, because all this threatened to come undone the night before.

They'd had a miserable night with a babysitter as my husband and I enjoyed a long overdue date night.  One boy in particular was making mischief, riling up another; both of them wide awake when we came home at 10:30pm.  How they cried when they saw us pull up and into the drive.  Tearfull they promised, "But we were trying to be good."

The baby sitter looking surprised.

When I left to drive our sitter home I watched my husband from the rear view mirror turn from the porch and walk inside.  His shoulders sagged heavy and low. I kept apologizing as I drove the dark streets.  By the time I returned home I felt like an utter failure, then I felt mad, then I wanted chocolate.

I found my man in our bathroom.  For a while we stood side by side at the counter brushing teeth and scrubbing our faces with extra vigor.  When we tucked in together beneath the covers he gently asked, "How can we stand up there tomorrow morning like our family has it all together?"

"Grace, " the word came fast.  "Grace."

It was the Christiany thing to say, so he shrugged in agreement and tugged for more blankets because weary hearts need comfort.  After another disgruntled moment he went on, "I feel like their consequence should be that they can't go up on stage and light the advent candle tomorrow but I know that's wrong."

"Grace," I said it again.  "God didn't come because our kids are perfect.  He came because of sin.  Our little sinners are the perfect people to read about a Savior, to thank God for His gift of salvation, and to let their light shine because they've been saved."

"But God demonstrates His own love toward us, in that while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us." - Romans 5:8

If you were in our church last Sunday morning, or any church for that matter where a mom and dad and a couple kids in red velvet dresses, patent leather shoes, argyle sweater vests or khaki pants stood up front to light the advent candle, and you felt less than worthy because your family isn't so put together... know deep down deep that we are all just sinners saved by Grace.  None of us deserving.  All of us forgiven.

Every one of us loved.  Every one of us a walking talking testimony of why Jesus came to earth.  

"For God so loved the world, that He gave His one and only son, that whoever believes in Him will not perish but have everlasting life." - John 3:16

You are perfectly flawed.  Light  the candle and let your light shine.

Your kids are perfectly flawed.  Light the candle and let your light shine.

Your marriage is perfectly flawed.  Light the candle and let your light shine.

Your childhood was perfectly flawed.  Light the candle and let your light shine.

Your present circumstances are perfectly flawed.  Light the candle and let your light shine.

"For you were once darkness, but now you are light in the Lord.

Live as children of light."  - Ephesians 5:8

 ...and Shine

Just give thanks

So many blog posts and magazine articles floating around this week.  Well-intentioned admonitions to give thanks deeply, creatively.  We are inspired to live these glory days of Thanksgiving beautifully, modeling this extravagant full-heart gratitude for our children. And then we feel the pressure to document it too, add a filter and a Bible verse and share it on Instagram with a few hundred of our closest friends "to encourage them."  

Don't get me wrong, sometimes sharing and tweeting and passing it along is simply an overflow... but other times it's not.  Sometimes we're just busy living our Thanksgiving in the everyday ways, with shirt sleeves rolled up, and that's okay too.

There are holidays when we're just doing life - real life - good life - with store bought cranberry sauce.  Serving up Pillsbury pre-made sugar cookies and a pie from Marie Calendar's with a can of Redi-Whip.  Because not every holiday is glamorous, and no amount of cropped, filtered, uploaded graphics can make it anything other than what it is. Real. Life. With happy, dirty kids out in the backyard wearing their everyday clothes.

Here we are, only a few days before Thanksgiving, and I have half a dozen blog posts I started and then never finished because I've been doing Thanksgiving school parties, making little party-favors with pretzels and candy corn and a simple ribbon curled up around a bow.  Too many crafts and errands and sporting events to fit one complete blog post in.  And tomorrow morning we're leaving for a little family vacation before arriving at my mom's house for Thanksgiving Day. So I'm doing a few more loads of laundry tonight, and as the dryer hums and the washing machine spins here in my laundry room / office, I'm Thankful that I'm not spinning.  So Thankful, in fact, that I went in and deleted each and every half-written Thanksgiving Day post I'd started.  Instead I'm just going to tell you and me both this simple truth.

Be Thankful....

Wherever you are - Whomever you are with - Whatever you've accomplished, or didn't accomplish - The groceries that have been bought and the recipes that you've decided to let slide - The family and friends you will see and those you won't be able to fit into your holiday plans this year... Be Thankful. This is your Thanksgiving Day pass to just give thanks.

Pass it on...