Category Archives: joy found

My girl

Posted in Eucharisteo, joy found, my girl, parenting (aint for sissies) by

You may have noticed that in my recent posts, Jacob has been the star. Annalise sometimes appears, but she is generally a by-stander during the hilarious antics of her brother. In some posts, she has been completely absent. There is a reason for this. And that reason is NOT that Jacob is my favorite. It is also NOT that he is funnier or cuter. It is also NOT that she is naughtier or boring.

Ok, maybe Jacob is funnier right now. But mainly because he is two and it’s part of his job. It’s funny when the two-year-old escapes and runs to the back yard buck naked and says to you as you finally discover him outside going down the slide on a sunny day, “Ooooh… My BUNS are HOT, Mama!” If the 4 year old did that, it wouldn’t be quite as funny. It would be just be naughty. And also inappropriate. And it may be funny – although not in the moment – that he stuck his hands in his diaper at the dinner table and showed us the “dirt” he found inside that was now on his fingers, but I would not be laughing and posting it for all to read if his big sister had done so. So as a two-year-old, his opportunities for hilarious entertainment are really less restrictive than with the four year old. TWO is funny. It just is.

And that isn’t to say that FOUR isn’t funny. It’s just different. I did laugh when Annalise said to me, “Mommy, what’s that kind of poo-poo called when it comes out really smoove? (smooth) Because I think I have that.” I also laughed when she believed Grandpa Kitchen when he told her there was a little man inside the red Staples button on his desk, so that each time you push the button, the little man says, “That was easy.” She ran to show me the red button and told me all about the little man that lived inside, but then she dropped it and it landed upside-down. “Oh. Never mind. Grandpa was just teasin’. I see where the battery goes.”

So yes, she makes us laugh too. But the real reason I haven’t written much about Annalise is because, well…. I can’t. Not without crying. Lately, we have watched our little girl change so much. Mature, grow, and think deeply. She is still funny. She is still naughty. She is still 4.

But in some moments, she seems 12. Or even 16. Sometimes, she asks deep questions, and we have a conversation that I didn’t know I could even have with her.

Like the other day, when she asked Matt if the people that live on the bottom of the earth are upside-down since we’re “by the top” and we’re right-side-up. Too bad Mama wasn’t around when she asked that one, because I’m fairly certain she has some major misconceptions now about the world being “round but still sorta flat at the same time.” Thank you, Daddy. Annalise now thinks the world is a pancake.

Or yesterday when she asked me, “Mommy, what does ‘evicted’ mean?” I have no idea where she even heard the word. You could insert a thousand different words there that she has asked me about after overhearing strangers’ conversations, something on the radio, or in a song.

Or like the other day when she asked me how the message I type to daddy on my phone gets to him wherever he is. And how do they know where he is? And how do the words go up in the sky and land on his phone? And why – if we pray really hard, and if God loves us really much – do sometimes our prayers not get answered with a yes, “like when I pray about that I really want to see my cousin I miss so bad. Other people get to LIVE BY their cousins and see them EVERY DAY. I don’t even get to see mine AT ALL.“ And…

My girl is growing up. I love to watch it so much, and at the same time, I want it to stop now. This growing up thing, it’s so emotional. On the parents, I mean. I’m scared to blink.

This weekend, we watched her perform at her ballet recital. She was beautiful. She did amazing. She remembered all her steps. Then at one point, she lost her footing and stumbled – just for a moment. My heart jumped into my throat, my stomach fell. Matt gasped. She continued her dance and I waited for her to turn so I could see her face. It seemed like an eternity as I watched, expecting to see tears or a face I knew was holding them back. I was ready to run backstage to meet her and hold her while she cried and to tell her it was okay and that I was so so proud of her. Instead, she turned, and I saw my girl. On her feet, on her own. Beaming with a smile.

Part of me shouted inside, “ATTA GIRL! THAT’S MY GIRL!” Another part of me cried inside, knowing she was brave and strong… all on her own. She didn’t need me standing next to her or holding her hand or telling her to get back up. Because she was big enough and brave enough and confident enough to do it without me.

The show was over, and all the performers came out with their classes for the final bow. First the oldest girls, then the next oldest, on down to the youngest little darlings in their adorable tutus. Annalise’s class was third to last – third to youngest –  led out by their teacher, as all the little girls’ classes were. She curtsied and took her place on the stage. My heart swelled with pride.

There are two things we realized that night.

1) Our girl is growing up. She is really such a big girl.

2) Our girl is still very very little.

I am so so proud of my big-little girl.

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Grace Lavished

Posted in angel babies, Eucharisteo, grace, grief and loss, joy found, twins by

I am humbled.

I began to write out my journey of faith just for myself, and I wrestled with the idea of making it public on my blog. (If you haven’t read it yet, this post won’t make sense. Read Tarnished first.) On the one hand, it felt good to write it all out and recognize how far I’ve come from my intense hatred toward God just 5+ years ago. It encouraged me to see how He’s been working in me, all the puzzle pieces lined up and fitting together, rather than each piece floating around in my mind disconnected from the rest. I was writing it for me. But then I thought that maybe it would be good for others to see, too – to encourage those that have prayed so faithfully for us and those that God has used to speak to us, to grow and stretch us during the past year.

On the other hand, posting this journey meant admitting to the world that I don’t have it all together. (I know. Shocking.) It meant confessing to people I know, love, and respect that my faith couldn’t withstand heartache. (Hmmm… a bit of pride creeping in here? I think so.) It’s humbling – and to some extent humiliating – to know other people have grown in their faith in the midst of a tragedy, while I completely crumbled. Waves crashed, and I jumped ship. Shouldn’t I have been stronger? Why did it take me over 5 years to get to the point where I can trust God and accept that His ways are not my ways (Isaiah 55:8), and that is a good thing? After all, He sees the big picture. And not just my big picture. He sees everyone’s big picture, how they are interlinked, and for all of time. Why was I so stubborn in accepting that He knows best? I don’t want everyone to know about this major fault of mine!

Ah, yes. Pride. Guilt. Slowly creeping in like the ocean’s tide. I could soon be swamped.

I decided to write out my journey and think on it for a while before posting. I read it probably a dozen times (and missed all those typos/errors each and every time. Oops.) I didn’t want to post it if it was only for my benefit, but I would make it public if it could encourage someone else. I decided to post it. I prayed it would reach someone. I prayed that God would be glorified. I prayed that I could redeem some of the lost time I spent hating God, and that maybe, maybe some good would come of it.

The day after posting, I regretted it. First, the waves of pride came again, washing over me as I saw the number of people reading it increase. Then came the even more intense guilt. I failed. I threw my faith out the window. I completely jumped ship. I tried reminding myself that this isn’t about me. It’s about bringing glory to the One who made me and loves me as I am, despite my faults.

I had the opportunity to have a conversation with my pastor about it. I’m pretty sure I’ve said it once or twice before, but he’s pretty awesome. Seriously. (Oh yes, I did already say that. Here, here, and multiple times on various dates here.) But it’s worth saying again. How blessed we are to be a part of a church where we get to hear him preach nearly every week. He is so real. So transparent. And he speaks Truth. And since writing the last blog post, I have heard from more and more people who also feel – every week – like the preaching is just for them. Clearly, Pastor Phil is being used by God. I am constantly learning from him.

During our conversation, I told him about my guilt for hating God. I told him how bad I felt for jumping ship the second strong waves crashed. Pastor Phil cupped his hands like a bowl. “In your eyes, you jumped ship. But in His, you were always right here.”

What an amazing picture. No matter how much I give up on Him, no matter how far I try to run from His presence, I can’t ever escape the palm of His hands. Even when I jump ship, I still land right there, right where He is holding me.

You’d think that would be good enough for me to get past the whole guilt/pride thing. Um, no. (I may have also mentioned once or twice that I am a bit stubborn.) So while I was greatly encouraged by my conversation with my pastor, the very next day I allowed myself to feel guilty once again. I had lunch with a friend who experienced the loss of a baby similar to our situation. She rejoices at the gift God gave her. She is thankful for a treasure she has in Heaven. She didn’t hate like I did. More guilt as I wish I would have had her faith. Ugh.

Do you ever have one of those nights where you can’t keep your eyes open when you’re in the living room, but the second you hit the bed, you’re wide awake? Do you ever have an argument with yourself or with God? As I lay on my pillow that night, frustrated about not falling asleep, a thought crept into my mind…

Read Jesus Calling.

No. I left it in the living room. I’m not getting up.

Read Jesus Calling.

No. I’m cozy. I’m going to sleep now!

Get up. Read Jesus Calling.

No! Thank you. I think I’ll lay here in my misery and guilt until I fall asleep. I just missed one day. I’ll read two tomorrow.

You missed two days. Go read yesterday’s today.

Maybe I’m not making myself clear here. I’m. Not. Getting. Up. I will read two – no, THREE – devotionals tomorrow. Promise.

Get up. Read Jesus Calling. Read yesterday’s entry. Read it now, before you sleep.

It was at this point I realized I was even more awake than when the argument in my head started. I reluctantly – and with irritation – jolted up and into the living room, hoping to quiet my thoughts and allow myself to go back to sleep. My movement was sudden and startled Matt, so he followed me out to see what was going on. Embarrassed for sounding a bit crazy, I thumbed through the book while explaining to him that I just needed to read the devotional from yesterday so I could shut up my mind and get to sleep in peace, that really I didn’t think it was going to be helpful, but at least I wouldn’t be having stupid arguments in my head.

Here is where the story gets funny. I turned to the day’s devotion that I had skipped. The one I was apparently going to have to read if I wanted a chance at going to sleep. As I began to read, I couldn’t help but laugh. I read it aloud to Matt. We were both laughing.

From Jesus Calling by Sarah Young:

May 9

Don’t be so hard on yourself. I can bring good even out of your mistakes. Your finite mind tends to look backward, longing to undo decisions you have come to regret. This is a waste of time and energy, leading only to frustration. Instead of floundering in the past, release your mistakes to Me. Look to Me in trust, anticipating that My infinite creativity can weave both good choices and bad into a lovely design.

Because you are human, you will continue to make mistakes. Thinking that you should live an error-free life is symptomatic of pride. Your failures can be a source of blessing, humbling you and giving you empathy for other people in their weaknesses. Best of all, failure highlights your dependence on Me. I am able to bring beauty out of the morass of your mistakes. Trust Me, and watch to see what I will do.

Romans 8:28; Micah 7:7

If you have that book and read the devotional for May 9 and didn’t get much out of it, sorry. That one was written just for me.

So what now? What comes of the girl who hated God, now loves Him, and is on a majorly steep learning curve to reflect His image? (We’re talking straight up-and-down cliffs, here.)

This is the part where I work on choosing and remembering. Waking up each morning and choosing to remember that I am human, and I will continue to make mistakes. Yet, He still LOVES ME. He made me, and He does all things well.

Remembering that He is God, and He knows best. For me, for you, and for all of eternity. Oh boy, that one’s a toughy. I have to choose that often. (Yes, I know, stubborn me. Sheesh.) But I do. I have to decide each and every day – sometimes multiple times a day – that GOD is GOD, and I am not.

Remembering that no matter how far I run, jump, or hide, I can never escape the palm of His hands.

Remembering that He – God – the Creator of the Universe has lavished His Amazing Grace upon me. (Ephesians 1:7-8)

Grace lavished. Upon me. Stubborn. Prideful. Tantrum-ing, hateful me.

I am humbled. I am in awe. I am so incredibly grateful.

When I started this blog, I was purposeful in my intent: to focus on joy and the Giver of all good and perfect gifts. I was excited as I started the process. It felt good.

In her book One Thousand Gifts, (which I am super-slow at reading. Sorry, Rach. Still haven’t finished chapter 4), Ann Voskamp embraces joy in gratitude for the many Gifts from God. At the women’s retreat I attended, Sandi challenged us to do the same, to write down 1,000 gifts. 1,000 “pops of joy” from our Creator, God. Our Heavenly Father. More excitement from me for a challenge that aligned with what God was doing in my heart already.

Even having started this process on my own, I am a slow learner.  Even having multiple reminders in various ways, I stumble as many times as I attempt.

But I am lavished in His grace. Each day. Each moment. Each time I stumble. Each time I get back up. Grace lavished.

Like Ann Voskamp, Sandi, and many other women, I am looking for it in 1,000 ways. How He shows His love for me. Each gift an example of His unending love, His amazing grace. With no disrespect to a friend who coined the term “pop of joy,” I’m recording my gifts of grace. It helps me remember. Since I don’t seem to be so good at that…

Here are a few of my Gifts of Grace from this week:

  • Two hands, cupped together, reminding me I can not escape His love.
  • Encouraging messages from people I don’t know who read my journey. May God be glorified – answered prayer.
  • Jesus Calling May 9 entry. It was written for me, for this moment.
  • A text from a friend that simply said, “You are worth it.”

I think that last one was another reminder of God’s love for me. When the guilt creeps in, when I feel overwhelmed and discouraged and ashamed and in awe that He – GOD – could forgive and love me, He quietly whispers, “You are worth it.”

And I am lavished in His Grace.

Ephesians 1:7-8 ~ “In him we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of sins, in accordance with the riches of God’s grace that he lavished on us with all wisdom and understanding.”

Romans 8:28 ~ “And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.”

Micah 7:7 (ESV) ~ “But as for me, I will look to the Lord; I will wait for the God of my salvation; my God will hear me.”

Full

Posted in angel babies, Eucharisteo, grace, grief and loss, holidays, joy found by

So full.

Full of love. Full of peace. Full of thanksgiving.

Full of joy.

I don’t know where to begin. I started this blog 2 months ago as a way to stay focused on joy. Life’s troubles or mundane-ness can so easily bring me down. And like I said in this post from early February, in the days/weeks that bring the most trials, I need to work all the harder at thinking about the joyful moments and thanking God for them, because HE is the giver of all good things. Although I don’t write every day, I have daily spent time focusing on the joy that day brought. My outlook has changed. I am finding myself feeling more and more grateful. I have found myself spending more time each day – throughout the day – thanking God. Talking to Him. Praising Him. Slowing down to remain in His presence, because “In your presence there is fullness of joy…” from Psalm 16:11

And then I went to our church’s women’s retreat this weekend. I don’t even know what to say, except UH-MAZ-ING. Incredible from start to finish. I am so grateful to call this church my home and these people my family. And the topic? Joy. The focus verse? Psalm 16:11 “You have made known to me the path of life; you will fill me with joy in your presence, with eternal pleasures at your right hand.”

I couldn’t possibly sum up the wonderful things the speaker (our church’s very own Sandy C.) shared. But I can say this… God had a big message, and Sandy shared it perfectly. Interwoven within all of the sessions were so many thoughts that were right in line with what God has been working on in my heart. Confirmation. Ok, God. I’m listening. I hear you loud and clear!

Some points that stood out:

– God gives us these gifts because He LOVES us. In all my joy-focusing, I kinda missed that part. I know all good and perfect gifts are from Him. I have already been working on thanking Him for them. And I know God loves me. But I failed to tie the two together. Weird, maybe. But just the same… these gifts of joy – from God, the Creator of the universe – are because HE loves ME. What an amazing and humbling thought.

– I need to look for the joy in the hard. Because joy isn’t about the circumstance, it is about the love and presence of God. I have looked for the joy in the bad, but not in the same way. In my bad days/weeks, I’ve looked for the good moments and tried to focus on those rather than on the bad moments. But I need to look for the joy within the hard. Sandy shared some great examples that I can relate to – both being moms of two kids around the same ages… When a child is tantruming and I am at the end of my rope – and then she throws something at me, thank you God, for this reminder of the grace you show me each time I throw tantrums about my situation. (I am now working on finding joy in some of my toughest moments. Where is the joy in the moment when I’m aching for my two baby girls? The promise of Heaven? Maybe. But the ache is so deep. And Heaven can feel so far off. And they were twins. Someday I will blog about it. Maybe.)

There were other things. Lots of other moments, thoughts, people, that I loved this weekend. I left feeling full.

And then I went to church this morning. Palm Sunday. The sermon: Unveiling the Crucified King. I have heard lots of sermons about Jesus being crucified. L-O-T-S. It’s not that they get old, just that they are usually very similar. Always heart-wrenching and humbling just the same. But I’ve never heard one quite like this. I don’t know what to say, except, if you want to have a (new) glimpse into what Jesus was thinking about on the cross, you should have a listen. (That link will get you to the entire list of podcasts from this amazing sermon series. Listen to them all if you’d like. You won’t be disappointed.) Again, what a blessing to be a part of this church. I am so grateful.

So that’s it. My situation hasn’t changed, but my outlook has – yet again. And I’m now full.

Full of love. Full of peace. Full of thanksgiving.

Full of joy. Eucharisteo.

14 + 4 = 57 + 2100

Posted in joy found, my boy, my girl, parenting (aint for sissies) by

14: The number of times my kids (mostly Jacob) threw up (mostly on me) in the last 5 days.

4: The number of times Jacob overflowed his diaper in the last 5 days. I’ll spare you the description, except to say that sleeper jammies (the kind with feet) ended up being a great floor protector. The last couple days, I’ve left him in PJs on purpose. Just in case.

57: The number of extra loads of laundry I did due to above mentioned vomiting and diarrhea. It may have been a bit less. But it certainly felt like 57. Or more.

2,100: The number of extra minutes Matt or I got to spend with our kids this week when we normally would have been working. Yes, I calculated it.

And there it is… 2,100 minutes… The joy found. When you’re doing an extra 57 loads of laundry and cleaning up bodily functional messes, you have to find the joy, right? That was mine. Extra laundry isn’t so bad when it meant I got extra snuggles in between time, extra kisses, extra books to read with my kids, extra lunch-time prayers where they thanked God for making mommy, daddy, Kim, and Grandma Kitchen better and prayed with even greater faith to make Jacob better, and extra minutes to just hold them.

Thank you, God, for extra minutes. I love them so.

In Honor of Jacob

Posted in friends, holidays, joy found, laughter, my boy, parenting (aint for sissies) by

I sat down to blog… on Friday. But then life happened. So now it is Sunday, and I am just sitting down to finish. Ah, well. Better late than never.

Today was a day to celebrate. For one, it was FRIDAY. – TGIF is an understatement. –  Two, it is Dr. Seuss’ birthday. It is a rule that as an elementary school teacher, you must celebrate this. Plus, if you have any kind of kid left in you, you should be happy about it too, because, well, Dr. Seuss is pretty awesome. And three, Jacob pooped in the potty. All you mamas out there know the joy that brings to a mommy’s heart. I had no idea bodily functions could be so exciting until I became a parent. Since it’s now Sunday – potty update… because it’s important… dry diaper 2 nights in a row plus nap time one day. 3 more successful potty trips. I’m hoping this isn’t just a fluke!

In honor of his accomplishment, I thought I’d post a couple recent Jacob-moments that have brought us lots of laughter this week, and what I’ve learned from them…

Jacob-Moment #1 – The Grocery Store

While in the grocery store cart, Jacob hollered, “Mommy! I see CHINTA!”

Chinta is the name of Auntie Nee/Uncle Jeff’s dog, and since I knew she wasn’t in the store, I started looking around for a picture of a dog similar to Chinta. But we were in the soup/beans aisle. No dog pics nearby. And so the following conversation took place with each comment from Jacob getting increasingly louder:

“I don’t see Chinta, Buddy. She’s not here.”

“Yes. I see Chinta! He WIGHT DARE!” (I look. No dog.)

“No. I don’t see him.”

“Mommy, I see him. I see him, Mommy! I see CHINTA!!!!”

“Buddy, I’m sorry, I don’t see him.”

“Mommy! Look! Mommy! Chinta wight dare. HE. WIGHT. DARE!!!!”

As I moved down the aisle, Jacob started bouncing in the cart with excitement. “Mommy! Mommy! I see CHIN-TA. CHIN-TA! CHIIIINNN-TAAAA! HIIII CHINTAAAAAA!!!”  Oh great. Now he’s calling the invisible dog.

And just as I begin to shush him a bit, we pass an old man and Jacob hollers out, “HO! HO! HO! MEWWWY CWISMAS, CHINTA!”

Old man turns, with long white beard and large belly...  Oh.

Jacob smiles his big proud dimpled grin at me. “See Mommy? Is Chinta! I see him wight dare!”  I smile a sheepish grin at SANTA-ish man and hurry around the corner to avoid further embarrassment.

Note to self: Teach Jacob how to pronounce the word SANTA. And in the future, don’t argue with 1-year-old in public. Accept all things he says as truth, and move on.

Jacob-Moment #2 -The Other Jacob

Bev is a friend of mine that watches our kids 4 days/week. She also has two kids, one named Jacob, only her Jacob is in middle school. On Friday morning, her Jacob missed the bus. Bev texted me to let me know she was running him to school and would be back in a bit. Annalise saw me texting her back and asked what I was doing. I told her. She asked why. I said, “Because Jacob missed the bus.”

I continued to get ready and didn’t pay much attention to the kids as they played, but then I realized only one of them was playing. Jacob had been sitting so quiet, almost sad, for about 10 minutes. I looked at his little face and saw a bewildered and sad boy with a furrowed brow. Clearly, he was contemplating something, and he was bothered by it.

“What’s wrong, Buddy? Why are you sad?”

He looked up at me, then back down. He furrowed his brow again and shook his head. He spoke in a small sad voice, “Oh, man. I missed da bus!”

Note to self: When speaking of “Jacob,” clarify if it is the other Jacob.

Jacob-Moment #3 – Pronoun Problem

I already posted this on FB, but it is worth repeating.

I was home with just the kids. They were playing in the other room, but then Jacob came to me and said, “Sissy cwying.”

Me: Why?

Jacob: He mean to her.

Me: Who?

Jacob: He.

Me: Who???

Jacob: He… I… I is he. (Long pause while I look at him with eyebrows raised.) Oh man, I mean to her. ‘Scuse me, Momma. I go say sow-we.

Note to self: Teach Jacob proper pronoun usage. And raised eyebrows work well when needing to get the truth out of Jacob.

And one last Jacob-ism:

Me: I love you, my child.

Jacob: I. NOT. MY. CHILD!!!  I Jacobpweestman!!

Okay. I love you, Jacobpweestman!! TOOooo much!  (Another Jacob-ism) What a blessing you are!