I'm not happy all the time.

confident day

rough day

People often comment that it seems like I never have a bad day, that I'm always in a good mood. It's a nice reputation to have but not entirely accurate. So, for some reason, I feel like dispelling that myth today. Here goes: yesterday was a rough day for me. I was reacting to life in a much more emotional way than I usually do and was feeling a little bit crazy. Over the course of the morning, I found myself reaching for tissue after tissue. I would use one, think I was done crying only to find myself needing another one as the tears kept flowing.

What in the world was wrong with me? Was a loved one in the hospital? Had a pet just died? Did something bad happen to me? Nope. None of the above. I was completely unproductive at work and ended up taking some benefit time off to try to shake this bizarre feeling. I had made plans to see my sister and, even though I had text her visual proof of my instability, she wasn't afraid and still showed up to have lunch with me. She's a brave one and it helps that she loves me. It turns out this emotional roller coaster is what is scientifically defined as being a woman. Good grief. I didn't really believe the science lesson until about 9:30pm, when my hormones decided to balance themselves out and my sanity was restored! Well, at least to within normal limits for me. I was amazed at how different I felt from one moment to the next.

There are also days when I wake up feeling confident. I like to take full advantage of those days by doing something bold with my hair and sometimes even wearing lipstick. (gasp!) For some reason wearing lipstick feels like I'm putting on a sign asking people to look at me. So I wear it about twice a year. Every other day you'll find me happily applying whatever flavor of lip smackers is within arms reach. Strawberry Kiwi Comet is my favorite. I love that stuff slightly more than an adult person probably should. It's simply the best. Okay, enough with the product endorsement.

My point here in not to say I'm unstable, nor is it a cry for help. I'm actually fine. I have good days and bad days just like every other human and today I felt like talking about it. So there you have it, I'm not happy all of the time. I don't think that fact is shocking or surprising but many times we don't share statements like that online. We tend to share highs and, occasionally, tragic lows, but not as many boring old real emotions. How are you feeling today?

Grandma

Growing up, she was a refuge to me and each of my brothers. We went to her for wisdom, solace, coke, and candy. We each had a bond with her that was unique and individual. She was sarcastic and hilarious with me, understanding and accepting with Nathan, and compassionate and spiritually deep with Edward. She and Grandpa lived around the corner from us for our entire childhoods. It was a milestone for me when I was old enough to walk to grandma's by myself. We spend many hours together playing card games, doing puzzles, and watching sports.

One distinct memory I have was when I was in 1st grade learning to read. I went to grandma's after school and she was quilting. I stretched out on the orange floral sectional and started reading my book out loud to her. I had trouble with just about every 3rd word so I would stop and ask her what the word was. She would graciously tell me and I continued to hobble through the book that way. It must have been excruciating to listen to and impossible to get any quilting done. But she never gave any indication that she was bothered by any part of the experience. I remember feeling so accomplished when I finished that book and so grateful for her help. I turned an important corner that day in my struggle to learn to read.

Another important milestone was when Nathan was tall enough to reach the latch to grandma's back gate. It meant we could go through the backyard instead of having to trek all the way around to the front door. We were so proud of ourselves when we didn't need mom to get us in the "back way". We almost always showed up without warning and were never turned away. I always got a burst of joy in my heart when Grandma's face lit up and she hurried to the sliding door to welcome us in. 

My grandma loves as perfectly as a human can love and does so with all her heart, soul, mind, and strength. When we all get to heaven, I hope I get to live around the corner from her forever.

Sword Fighting at church

He sat down and would not move. I asked him again which of the life groups in the room he wanted to join. He turned his face away from me. “Look,” I said (pointing), “do you want to join this group or that group over there?” No movement. Just silence. “Dude, please look at me. Which group should we join?” *crickets* “Okay, what do you want to do?” More looking away and silence but this time he added an eye roll. Instead of drop kicking him, I took a deep breath and tried to exhale all my frustration.

Because I know violence is never the solution, I resorted to praying. “What should I do, Lord? This isn’t working at all.” Then God opened my eyes to the fact that a routine had not been established yet so he didn’t know what the schedule was or what to expect next. He was struggling with all the changes and needed some control. The thought occurred to me that if he wanted to sit in silence then maybe I should stop talking. I let out another sigh and said, “I get it, we can sit here and not talk. That’s okay.” I got out of his face and just sat next to him while we both processed the situation.

A minute, that felt like 10, passed and he whispered something. I turned and said, “What’d you say?” A smirk formed on his lips as he raised his voice about half a decibel and whispered again. “I can’t hear you,” I said, “If you want me to hear you then you need to talk louder.” Cue more silence. The smirk got bigger though. Finally, he said (at an audible volume) “Ball?” “Oh no”, I said, “we can’t play with the ball in here during life group time.” At this point I had released the whole forcing him into a life group idea. I saw the foam swords we had used for an earlier game and I instantly knew what we were going to do. “Hey, you wanna go outside and have a sword fight?” His face brightened and suddenly there was eye contact and clear speech. “YES!”, he exclaimed.

I grabbed the swords and off we went battling all over the courtyard, across the playground, and up and down the slide. When the sword struck it made a very satisfying “Fwap!” causing both of us to laugh hysterically. It was an epic contest that looked slightly uneven when he got a few strong loud fwaps in on both sides of my head. But, believe me, I got quite a few jabs in myself. When life groups were over, we calmly went back inside and played ball with everyone else.

I want so much to teach him about Jesus but end up feeling like a failure more often than not. Then God reminds me of the lesson He teaches me every week. The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, PATIENCE, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and SELF-CONTROL. And once again, the student becomes my teacher. Sometimes the answer to WWJD is: have a sword fight.

Who needs you?

Here's another post I wrote for my church's blog. 😊


http://thewellcommunity.org/blogs/kids-connection/who-needs-you

time did not fly

One year. 

Since my last drink of Pepsi. 

Feels like a lifetime ago. 

I miss having a favorite drink. 

I don't miss getting sick every time I ate. 

Who knew it was possible to be allergic to sugar?

Not me. 

My body doesn't digest sugar. 

Of any kind

Whether plant or mineral

It all feels like poison. 

It still tastes good though!

There in lies the problem. 

But it's been a year and

I've gone down 3 pant sizes.

I miss sugar

But I don't miss fat pants and stomach aches

For such a time as this

Sometimes we get to see evidence that God has a purpose for our lives, or rather our eyes are opened to be able to see what has been in front of us all along. Having a kid named Logan and his family in my life, is definitely proof that God had a good plan for leading me to The Well Community Church. Here's a post I wrote for my church Kids Co blog. Click on the link and enjoy.

http://thewellcommunity.org/blogs/kids-connection/for-such-a-time-as-this  

Blessing disguised as a curse

Having a sibling with a disability is a blessing that disguises itself as a curse. An outside view highlights the tantrums, drooling, hitting, yelling, biting, anger, confusion, awkward appearances, slurred speech, and all the rest of the embarrassing and permanently hard stuff. Once the difficult task of looking through and past the disguise is accomplished, the inside view reveals the truths that stands in front of the lies; laughter that breaks through tears, peace that isn't offended by your fears, and a deep, genuine love that binds them all together and enables you to truly see the blessing. You are rewarded with a capacity to understand and recognize hardship in all its forms and to gain wisdom from looking for the breathtaking beauty that can be found in pain. You learn how life giving and devastating it can be to celebrate every accomplishment. You learn that joy and sorrow have the same pulse, they do not exist apart from each other. But their fusion is not bad news. It's actually a relief. 

People learn these things about blessings and curses from a myriad of life experiences throughout their lifetimes. The difference I see in siblings of people with disabilities is that we tend to learn them long before our peers do. This knowledge sets us apart in ways we didn't sign up for and can't control. It's easy to feel like an alien in a strange land when you know the true love that others are searching for and you know the answers to some of life's toughest questions. You know how to spot a curse disguise a mile away, call out the blessing, and run towards it.