pulling up my boot straps (with help)

Do you ever have those days where things just keep going wrong?

And then, at a certain point, the level of "wrongness" is so disproportionate that instead of being overwhelming  the pile-up of problems become ironic. Almost humorous?

(my worn boots in a pic taken by Hannah)

That was my yesterday.  From the truck stalling, to AAA not being able to find our insurance information, to my vacuum blowing up (ha ha ha -- not really blowing up but the motor burning out with half a room waiting needing to be vacuumed), to finding my boys stash of small pepper stems behind the couch, to the fridge motor icing up causing me to take everything out of the freezer and defrost, to getting late to ballet, to not checking one thing off my homeschool list, to finding out that Chloe MUST have braces as it's a functional problem and not just cosmetic, to finding out I have to go back to the dentist for several kiddos to get cavities filled, to the printer rejecting the ink-cartridge at 10:50pm when Hannah has a paper she needed printed for her class in the morning, to well, you get the picture. A mega dose of - if it could go wrongs - handed over to a tired momma.

That was yesterday.

Now it is today.  February 2, 2011. A new day.

And the Lord's mercies are new.

And I laughed about my yesterday this morning.

(ready for a new day)

I'll figure those hard things out -- with the Lord's help I'll have grace and patience and hope.  Rocky seasons remind me of the joy in good times, and like I've been writing, are helping me see the everyday beauty.  Like this morning.  My two oldest boys wrestling and laughing in the living room.  Samuel eating (yes eating) a gluten free pancake from Trader Joe's.  My new header, designed by my Hannah, as a gift to encourage me.  The fact, that hopefully, the truck just needs a new battery. (Oh, I hope it's just that......) To sweet Chloe's kind words in the morning. Or my moment of brilliance when I reminded the boys to dump the huge box of legos on a blanket so that we can clean them easier.

I have this devotional - Streams in the Desert by L.B.Cowman - that was given to me when Todd was undergoing cancer treatments.  I've pulled it out, dusted the cover, and begun rereading the pages. This is today's verse:

In the shadow of His hand he hid me;

he made me into a polished arrow and concealed me in his quiver.

 (Isaiah 49:2)

God's there. 

Always.

( by the way it ends with these encouraging words)

- remember how closely the quiver is tied to the warrior -

Alleluia.

I couldn't do this myself. :)

living in the trenches

That would be my life right now. 

I feel as if I'm hunkering down in a trench, in the midst of a battle, and yet, I'm to do life right here.  In this gritty and tiring place. There's a battle raging around me, but I can't just stop fighting, can't stop living.

The trench has beauty.

Even though my family is tired, and battered, and worn we're rediscovering the wonderful of everyday. Of a gluten-free dinner where everyone can enjoy and eat together. Of times spent on the couch reading books with Samuel in the middle.  Of laundry finished and waiting to be put away. Of trips to the dentist, or church, or Trader Joes.

The trench has pain.

I'd be lying if I told you that things weren't hard.  I see the worry in my Hannah and Chloe's eyes when they are concerned over Samuel's pallor. I feel the anxiety in my own heart when I look at my homeschool planner with the last full day checked off in early January. I hear the pain in Caleb's voice when he cuddles with me at night and asks about why Sammy was in the hospital. I see a house that is a bit behind -- in laundry, and cleaning, and chores -- and know that it's because I haven't been home.  I know the calendar is full of appointments, and I know the kids see them as well.

The trench is this place of sadness mixed with real joy.

And that's okay.  That's what I'm learning to expect.  I don't want to just sit in the pain part so I've been trying  to embrace and find the beauty.  The Lord has been good to me.  He has blessed me beyond measure even in this place. Do I struggle with the "whys?" -- absolutely.  Many times throughout my day I release my earthly need to know why.  Why gets me no where. It just made me focus on the ugliness rather than the beauty. So I've had to replace my  need to know why. And gradually now I'm discovering that -

I have hope.

and

I have peace.

and

I have joy.

Living in the trenches.

i remember

I know you're out there.

You're the one whose heart aches with each post about Christmas.

Where walking through the store is a challenge.

Your life is messy, or scary, or confusing.

You feel alone.

It's hard now, at Christmas, isn't it?

When the world, and bloggers, seem to have beautifully packaged lives.  Pictures and recipes and gifts and laughter and happiness.

Inside you feel sad.

Why doesn't anyone notice?  Why does it have to be so hard?

Why now?

Why at Christmas?

Don't people know?  Don't they know that it's hard to do Christmas when life is so hard?

Do they see?

I do.

I know.

I remember.

I remember walking through Target, with eyes brimming with tears, wishing someone knew that the only reason I was there was to try to find blackberries for the nausea for my husband that was caused by pain-meds from cancer surgery.  I remember feeling sad and angry and bitter when I saw the carts bursting with goodies -- like I wasn't a part of the grand celebration.

I remember.

I relied on God greatly during that Christmas.  God blessed me with a strength I didn't know I had.  A strength to push that cart through Target and to say thank you to the cashier -- and not cry.  At least not every time.

I remember thinking about all the hidden others, masked behind their lives, carrying loads.  Burdens.

I remember.

Will you remember?

That perhaps that mom that is a bit shorter with her kids, or you, or the cashier, might just have a husband at home sick?

That there are many others who would love to fill a cart with food at Target?

That people, and friends, are way more important than things?

That there is a tomorrow.  There is hope.

There is joy.

Even when life is hard?

I remember.

the gratitude challenge

Several weeks ago my husband challenged me to change my thinking.  He asked that whenever I get worried about something that instead of sitting in the fear that I turn it to thanks.  For example, if I was worried about finances I would recognize the worry and then thank God for providing for our family and for His abundance.

I fought doing this.  Like crazy.

I wanted to sit in my worry -- because I knew all the answers, right?  And slowly, I found that instead of trusting I was becoming a bit pessimistic.  And this, my friends, goes against my nature.  So Todd, my husband, asked me again to praise whenever I was fearful.

I fought doing this.  Again.

So I'd find myself awake at 2am while the rest of my family slept.  Then when I'd awake, I'd be crabby -- fearful.  I'd storm around the house, muttering my dissatisfaction with everything -- thus creating such a mood of discontent.

Then finally, I decided to try.

When anxiety welled up inside -- health, or how to afford homeschool supplies, or job ops, or more -- I just praised.  I thanked our Father for what He has already provided and what will be provided.  And gradually, I felt the robes of fear begin to fall off.  I was looking at my plans, my agendas, my goals and was becoming discontent when they weren't what I expected. Or wanted.  I had been comparing myself and thus losing my contentment.

Until those days of thanks.

I had been so full of self and my own wants that I forgot to see what I was blessed with.  Even though things might not be what I always imagined, I am still greatly blessed.  I have a home, wonderful children, a faithful husband, food on my table, good health, a husband in remission, great neighbors, excellent friends, freedom to worship, freedom to homeschool -- how could I forget all these?

I had forgotten because I forgot the need to be grateful.

Today, can I challenge you to post a comment of one thing that you are grateful for?  Perhaps it is even simply blogger -- there is great freedom in our ability to express ourselves. This a freedom that many do not have.  Or for your health.  Or your kids.  Or your spouse.  Or our country.  Whatever it is -- give thanks.

And I pray, that your words and ponderings about gratitude will fill your day with joy.

The LORD is my strength and my shield; my heart trusts in him, and I am helped.

My heart leaps for joy and I will give thanks to him in song.  Psalm 28:7

pink peonies

Life can just be so hard.
Sometimes it feels as if those days where you are already struggling you become a free target for a gut punch.  Or a stab in the back. Or just one more problem.
Today was one of those days.

These are the moments where joy feels so fleeting.  So challenging.  Where can it be in the midst of all of this?  My soul aches.  I yearn for a season of peace. The battle makes one weary.  How can I find joy?

Then I see peonies.  Pink peonies that my dear friend, my neighbor blessed me with.  She cares. And in seeing them I start to remember. I remember that there is life beyond the battle.

Then I see Grace running in the backyard.  Free.  Laughing.  Unaware.
There is freedom.

Then I hear Samuel giggling on the carpet in the living room.
There is hope.

Then I remember how Brennan gave me his mega-hug today.
There is love

Then I remember how I love storms and as I write, one is rolling in.
There is power.

Then I remember dinner.  And how fortunate we are to have food.
There is abundance.

Then I remember that even though it's a battle here, I am sitting with Jesus right now.
There is life.

I am not alone.


And He said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for My strength is made perfect in weakness." Therefore most gladly I will rather boast in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me. Therefore I take pleasure in infirmities, in reproaches, in needs, in persecutions, in distresses, for Christ's sake.
For when I am weak, then I am strong.
(2 Corinthians 12:9-10)