Blinking

I was an avid journal keeper until just after I had children. I enjoyed the process of searching for the perfect blank journal, and then sitting in a coffeehouse every morning with my cup, bagel, and pen in order to hand write my thoughts during restful moments of quiet before heading off to work. I believe I spurred on many Trinity gals to the joys of keeping a journal. I pray that these women have continued the discipline.

I suppose my blog is now my journal. It just feels different - almost too easy. There is something so very immediate about the process of writing electronically as opposed to using a bound blank book and a pen for means of documenting personal reflection and contemplation: The ability to get one's thoughts out so quickly, to reread and edit, the ease of sharing so openly, and having an "audience", to name a few. I can get over the fact that I now have difficulty hand writing my thoughts, as I am genuinely thankful for this new outlet. I also know that if I waited for the moment when the timing would lend itself to returning to keeping a handwritten journal, I would pen absolutely nothing.

That, and, with no Cuppa Jo all of you would be bored.

My opinion on blogging is very different than my opinion about scrap booking. For I am actually planning on having my blog digitally reproduced and bound into hard copy volumes for my children. The handwritten journals they will have to fight over. This is definitely a long range goal, as I have almost 8 years of blogging to cut, paste, and transfer to a site that can reproduce it for me. I call this process, "Beaver To Do List: Number 1 - bind the blogs".

One of my coolest entries during my journal keeping years was when God gifted me with the ability to see his good works "blink by blink". It became my buzz phrase with the college girls I was disciplining at the time. I know we all talk a good talk about seeing God's good works and blessings in our lives, and yet, I was finding that some women, myself included, were overlooking the seemingly tiny good works and blessings that God was doling out, resulting in heavy feelings of discouragement and abandonment. The ability to recognize, and feel, and taste His presence was trumped by the need to see something "big". Thus, His morsels of grace were easily missed, as the tendency to search for and notice only the large visual chunks overshadowed His awesome presence.

However, through writing, I had learned for myself, that I would benefit from a walk with Jesus that gave value to the "blink by blink" moments which even though small, were incredibly powerful and sustaining. And thus, I went on a campaign to promote such thinking in the lives of the students with whom I worked, always challenging them to take a second and third and fourth look at their situations, knowing that by doing so, they too, would find a glimmer of hope and God's hand during blinks.

Recognizing God in "blink by blink" moments:

• Reminds me of God's immediacy in my life down to the millisecond
• Reminds me of His constant communication with me
• Reminds me of His love for me by gifting me with several moments of His embrace throughout my day

And this is why, even today when I am completely weary from having slept maybe one hour last night due to being in the grips of worry, that I still know and can state with confidence, with all my heart, soul, mind, and strength that my God has a road map for me and my family. He's mapped it. I know this. I am thankful that He is using my very own writings from years ago, to remind me of the truths He has built into my life. For while I am looking for the big blessing of the house being sold, I would benefit from noticing, pointing out, and sharing the "blink by blink" moments that he has gathered and showered upon me. Daily.

Recently, during the opening of the Illinois Holocaust Museum and Education Center (right here in Skokie), Elie Wiesel (whose charity lost $15.2 million and his entire life savings to Bernard Madoff) made a quote encouraging us to enjoy the moments of life, rather than the days of life, as life is made up of moments. When I find the actual quote, I'll add it here - as I'm not doing it justice.

So true is this. Both our walks with God, and the dailiness of life are made up of moments (blinks). Perhaps I've gone a bit micro-manager when it comes to walk/running this desert marathon, but if I only keep my eyes on the finish (how much further, its location, what it looks like, when I'll get there, what kind of free food there will be), I will miss the important moments along the way. The cups of water being handed to me for re hydration, the running buddy who can distract me from the physical pain by chatting with me, and the cheers from encouragers and supporters along the path.

Will you join me in seeing God during the "blink by blink" moments of your day?

Blink. Even the tiniest of blessings are huge.

Ducking and Weaving

I never thought I'd receive inspiration for a post from a kid's movie. And if ever I was to attempt to glean inspiration for a post from a kid's movie, I doubt I would choose Zathura as the film through which I would receive a new nugget for personal reflection. For I'd tend to lean more towards a film with the depth of, say, The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe, or The Secret Garden. But, Zathura? Surprising.

This isn't a movie review.

Although I will offer up that we enjoyed it. It was a great Movie Night selection for the family.

Pretty early into the film, a moved game piece on the Zathura board, (Yep, it's a game. Think "Jumanji", only 2005 style), sends asteroids raining down upon the living room of the house where the main characters reside.

The asteroids, of which there were many, both large and small, came blasting through the roof, shattering windows, toppling bookshelves, crushing furniture and burning holes in the floorboards. Seemingly unavoidable, these searing, reckless, and aimlessly flaming rocks rained haphazardly through every inch of the room. The kids, in an endless frenzy, spun and ran in several directions to avoid being hit. But, as quickly as they ran, the destructive asteroids were able to match all evasive maneuvers with lightening speed.

I knew the asteroid shower would end - as this was a movie and we were only about 20 minutes in - but, even so, I felt a huge amount of tension. The scene touched a cord. For I realized that the asteroid shower would only end when it was time for it to end.

This made an impression on me.

In a really surprising way, I related with the two boys. Engulfed by flaming chaos, they ran, dodged, ducked and hid to avoid being hit, resting for a millisecond only to turn, just in time, to find another asteroid headed straight for them, thus destroying the safe spot they thought they'd found. One after another rocks fell all around them keeping the boys on an exhausting adventure of staying on their toes, with all senses alert, endorphins firing, and "not a moment to lose".

This is how I feel.

I was recently sharing with a girlfriend (a newly engaged girlfriend - YEAH!) how over these last few months we have felt hit with one thing after another. She replied with, "Oh come on Joline, this isn't new. It's amazing what you and George have handled over the past four years." And, she was right. Here I was sharing my exhaustion from a few months of experiencing an asteroid shower of sorts, only to have my gal pal acknowledge (thankfully) that we've actually been ducking and weaving hot rocks for years. Huge boulders. Smaller nuggets. Broken and jagged bits and pieces. All shapes and sizes. A constant stream of them for four years. None completely debilitating, some only slightly annoying, but, yet, a constant barrage.

She went on to say, "Over these past 4 years, there has always been something that you two have been hit with."

I can honestly say that other than my family, she is the first person here to acknowledge that this truly has been the case for us. Even I have tried to brush off the impact made by the constant "fires" by redefining our lives as a "new normal", even though this "new normal" has taken an incredible toll on my physical, spiritual, and emotional health - which, simply, can not be good.

Do you realize how comforting it was to have someone communicate that they have seen how difficult the past four years have been? I am so very thankful - not so much for her seeing our difficulty, but more so that she actually told me that she could see how hard it has been.

Everyone has their asteroid showers. I know this. I'm not saying that my shower is tougher than yours. I'm not challenging you to a "my life is harder than your life" competition. I also don't believe in a health and wealth Gospel that insures that I will have a healthy and prosperous life, free from hardship and suffering, because I believe, love, and make my feeble attempts to walk with Jesus.

This is not a compare and contrast piece.

Rather, it is a personal acknowledgement that the ducking and weaving from both the big and small calamities of life, has completely challenged my mental, physical, emotional, and spiritual toughness. I am the-about-to-be-40 year old woman that I never thought I would ever be. The tired one. Worn out. A bit frayed.

Thankfully, I have faith that God won't leave me in this place. I'm pretty darn sure that He has a personal training program set up for me to begin.

Just. Not. Now.

The asteroid shower hasn't let up enough yet. I do have faith it will slow down, allowing me time to catch my breath. However, I am not praying that it will stop altogether, because life doesn't really work that way. For there will always be an asteroid of some size. So I am praying for the frequency of the blows to slow up, enough for me make an attempt to regroup. And until that day, I will rely upon my belief that in my weakness He is so very strong. For once the shower is downgraded to a "spit", I will once again have a window of time to rest and train up my mind, body, and spirit back to my former self.

So, thanks Zathura for the visual. (Geez. That's sounds so weird.)

And thank you, Stephanie, for the verbal acknowledgment that we've been bombarded.

And congratulations on your engagement!!!!!

Hunger Pangs

Simple.

Pure.

Essential.

My Mom's group is currently studying a DVD series entitled "Organic God". It isn't about how God would choose to shop locally at Farmer's Markets, or would choose foods without additives - although I do have a hunch that he would have. I just can't see God munching on a fruit roll-up. I think He'd just eat an actual piece of fruit.

No, this series is encouraging us to strip the toxins from our relationships with God. The toxins that can invade and taint our walks with God, thus restoring our relationship to the freshness that we desire.

Toxins? What? Well, I don't know what your toxins are, but mine are a bunch of nasty chemical's called "shoulds".

I should have an established quiet time every day. I should pray a certain way and have a really long and organized list to show for it. I should, I should, I should.

And, actually, I should . . . but not in the manufactured or contrived way that I can fall into just as easily as I blink.

The idea of praying for a spiritual hunger is prevalent throughout the series, and I must honestly say that this idea startled me a bit. I have indeed experienced a time in my life, prior to having my precious children, where I tore into the Bible and scribbled furiously in a journal every morning while planted at Newport Coffeehouse - my stop on the way to work at Trinity every day. I read and wrote and wrote and read and prayed and pondered and drank coffee, and discovered incredible nuggets about God that left me full up inside. I never prayed for spiritual hunger. It just . . . was. It was natural.

Times change and life phases change and with those changes come a shift in how we meet with God. Gone are the 60 minutes with Bible and journal and pen in a coffeehouse every morning. Arrived are the spits and hurried moments where God still graciously meets me. In these fractured and scattered attempts to seek Him, He continues to share with me the way He knows I learn best: in black and white.

So today, as the women shared together in small groups, I realized that perhaps I should be praying for a new spiritual hunger. Should - in a good way, rather than a pressured way. I want to. I'm not feeling obligated to, as if doing so is merely an errand to be checked off on a list of other random "to do's", but rather, I'd really like to see how God will respond to my asking this of Him for myself. And for George. And for the kids.

I realize that all too often when I need an escape or relaxation, I default to getting lost on the internet, in my blog, on facebook, or on-line newspapers. I default to another cup of coffee. I default to reading. I don't necessarily default to God when I need refreshment. And it's not that I want God to necessarily be the default . . . but I must wonder why He isn't even that for me on on a daily basis. Why do I not escape with Him? Even for five minutes?

I don't want a hit or miss relationship with God. I want true refreshment, where I can actually sit down and enjoy a meal, rather than settling for a quick snack while standing at the counter.

I would like to see God become my "go to" rather than my "resort to".

God is no spiritual rebound guy.

As my small group then pondered loving Him with all our heart, soul, mind, and strength, He spoke to me. Clearly. A picture of a pumping heart entered the movie screen of my head. Not a red Valentine's Day heart. An actual beating human heart. Pumping blood throughout the body. And then. It slowed. And stopped. The body went cold. With the stopping of the heart, the soul vacated, the mind quit firing, and all strength was gone.

Yes, we should love the Lord our God with all of our being, and yet, for me, right now, God is saying, "Love me with your HEART. For if your HEART fails, all else fails. Without a beating HEART there is no soul, there is no mind, and there is no strength. Soul, mind, and strength leave the physical body when the HEART stops beating."

And this thought made me hungry. Hungry to rekindle my emotional relationship with the one God who gave His blood for me.

So, this is now my prayer for myself. And for the members of my family. And for my friends. I pray for a new spiritual hunger. A hunger which finds refreshment and fullness from deliberately seeking God, rather than merely resorting or defaulting to Him as an afterthought. A hunger which starts in the beating heart and pumps life giving blood to the rest of the body. It's a simple thought, really.

Simple.

Pure.

Essential.

"Organic God. It's like falling in love all over again."

Time to Accessorize!

Either wear the darn thing or don't.

You can choose to wear it.

You can choose not to wear it.

But if you choose not to wear it, or decide to remove it after realizing that responsibility actually takes some personal sacrifice, please don't complain that things aren't getting done, or that needs aren't being met. Admit that you don't want to wear it. Or bear it.

Know that your actions, the actions of even just one person, are relevant and powerful and can indeed contribute and lead to change. Don't follow a crowd who expects others to move mountains. Accept and walk in a manner which reveals to the world that you believe in your heart that God is present, that you know in your head that He is working, and that He has equipped you to join Him. Your actions do matter. Your actions do count. Your actions affect other people. Your personal actions do indeed affect other people.

Make a decision.

Either wear it.

Or don't wear it.

The responsibility of making the initial decision to wear the bracelet is yours, and yours alone, to make. Come on. You know how to dress yourself . . . choose your own jewelry. You don't need Clinton and Stacey to help you decide on this accessory. If you choose to remove it, and you can, as you do have free will, please don't make the excuse that someone else made you to do so.

Let's stop making excuses as to why we don't take responsibility.

Let's own our personal decisions.

Let's accept and admit our personal responsibility.

Warning. I didn't say doing so was easy.

Taking responsibility for our words and actions has become blurry. Being "others focused" has turned into a blame game for our own missteps. Whereas shouldn't being "others focused" actually mean loving and serving others and putting the needs of others before our own?

Let's put the blame game away and choose another activity.

And before you get all up in a tizzy, know that I am speaking to myself just as much as I am to you. Whoever you may be.

Responsibility is hard. Sacrifice is uncomfortable. Confronting our true thoughts, words, and actions (or non-actions) can be embarrassing.

And yet ultimately, we don't ask other people to wear our accessories for us, right? So get dressed.

Wear your own responsibility.

Wow! That looks great on you!

Matthew 5:33 "But let your statement be, "yes, yes' or "no, no' and anything beyond these is of evil."

August 11: Non-Busy Day?

Think of how many times you rattle off the phrase, "It's a busy time."

I often wonder if those of us who use the "it is such a busy time" line are either truly over scheduled, or simply guilty of using the busy excuse to relieve ourselves from commitments in which we honestly prefer not to engage. "Busy" has become so overused that I, for one, often doubt the truth behind it being stated as a reason for not being available.

Why can't we just say "No, thank you"? And leave it at that?

I'm in the art of getting "No's". In fact, I know that I'm working my Mary Kay business when I actually reach a live person on the phone to ask whether they would like to try our products and they respond with "No". I prefer it much more to a blubbering excuse about being busy. "Busy" is a curtain behind which many hide.

Straight up is better with me. A "No" will make my day. It frees me up to move on, rather than calling that person again "when things slow down". After all, have you ever asked a person who responds with "when things slow down" as to when that might be? Do you think they actually have a solid date for "when things slow down"?

Look at a calendar. Every month has either a holiday, or memorial, or deadline, or Hallmark Card inspired event to keep us busy. Except August. So, in theory, one could then gather that August is not busy. Wrong, my friend! August is the month of vacations and back to school preparations.

See, there's always something.

But, this post has gone on much longer than I intended. And it wasn't supposed to be about getting "No's" in sales or an evaluation as to the busyness factor for each month of the year. When I clicked "New Post", I merely wanted to type:

Being busy is a choice.

Now before you get all defensive about responsibility, and obligation, and service, and availability, just stop for a moment, and ask yourself why you are so offended by my blurting out that being busy is a choice.

Let me be clear as to what I am NOT saying. Mother's are busy. All day. Everyday. Taking care of one's children, one's husband, one's home, etc. is pretty much a non-negotiable in my opinion. Our jobs and careers also create unavoidable busyness with deadlines and projects and traveling. Students are busy with classes, and finals, and extra-curricular activities. Of course we all have stuff. I realize that those non-negotiables to which we must give our time, attention, and effort are a legitimate part of the human experience.

The busyness to which I am referring is the hyper over scheduling of every member of the family in activity after activity, serving on every committee possible, running around with one's arm and leg and hand and foot entangled and stretched in every direction, not unlike a game of Twister. The result being that the main areas of life, Faith and Family, suffer under the weight of all the other activities taken on, the pressure causing you to crumble on to the mat flat on your ass.

Yep. I said ass.

Just reflect for a moment.

And then purge.

I'm no gardener, but I do know that pruning is essential for growth and beauty and strength.

So, while all I really wanted to say is that being busy is a choice, I guess I just happened to have the time to embellish on the thought a bit.

Guess I must not be all that busy.

Well, I'll Be!

Apparently, Normal does exist!

Which comes as a shock to me, as I've been painstakingly trying to locate Normal for about 3 years now, without success.

Little did I know that Normal was right in front of me, or rather, south of me. In Illinois no less. Here I'd given up any hope of finding it, only to be surprised at how close I've actually been to touching it. Smelling it. Basking in it. Normal is my neighbor!

One would think that Normal's true personality would be more like that obnoxious kid on the block who is always playing cruel jokes and crouching behind the bushes, ready to pounce and yell, "Fooled you, sucker! Didn't see me, did you?" Only, Normal hasn't pounced. Instead it hides quietly, out of the spotlight, masking its presence like an ideal on a permanent vacation. Next door to Bloomington.

Can you believe it? After all the time I've spent "waiting for life to return to Normal" and looking forward to a life where "things are back to Normal", I come to find that Normal has been here all along?

How many times did I send up the battle cry of "Normalcy! Come out, come out, where ever you are!" How much energy have I wasted searching and waiting and waiting and searching for the period in this bottomless caffeine drip called life when all the dailies of my world would align neatly with Normal?

And now I come to find out that according to this map, Normal has been lurking right down the road? For I don't get the impression that its presence is a new phenomenon, nor do I think it is planning on moving or disappearing like the island on LOST. Nope, it's been planted in the same place for some time now.

I just couldn't find it.

My problem is that I've been chasing after Normal even though my dear friend Normal has always been right under my nose. Already present. And thus, after the endless circle of begging, and yearning, and prayer to experience "Normal life", an acrobat feat which resembles the visual cliche of a gerbil on a wheel and dog chasing her tail, I've come to an enlightened conclusion.

I am currently living a Normal life.

After all, what IS Normal?

A life where each of the variables are perfectly in place at all times: spiritual life, marriage, parenting, housework, the car, school functions, career, finances, friendships, health, personal goals. Laundry?

I'm sorry. But what plane does one need to catch to crash land on THAT island?

Nah, I'm done plane hopping to find that flight. Instead, I'm adopting a New Normal. One where I observe what is currently before me and am able to state with assurance, "Why, that's Normal!". My Normal is that which I am experiencing right now. In the moment. For, whatever the Lord has doled out to me is Normal so far as I know it, right?

Come on, it's either this or climb the fence to peek into my neighbor's Normal only to compare and (ultimately) fall prey to envy over the Normal they are living. Or, I can continue to wander while seeking it, thus missing the beauty of some true Normal nuggets that may pass me by as I desperately focus on hunting down the "real" Normal. Either way I lose. With one, I become a creepy peeping Jo. With the other, I just wind up exhausted. So why go through life muttering, "Will the "real" Normal please stand up!" I should just carry my Normal like a big girl and treat each day as if I truly believe that "God's mercies are new every morning." Every morning. New mercies.

New Normal.

So what? Am I now inviting strife with this new outlook? Well, bring it on. Over the past three and a half years I've had my share of career changes, health concerns, money stress, crazy freaky church stuff, death (um, not my own), a child's pain, lot's of poop, car conundrums, lack of sleep, debt, surgery, weight gain, misunderstandings with friends, insecurities, childbirth, insurance claims.

And laundry.

And truly, laundry seems to be the only mountain we've yet to conquer.

And that, too, is pretty darn Normal.

And would you believe that just after clicking "publish" for this post, I went upstairs to find that my son has diarrhea and that it leaked out of his diaper onto his sheets?

Welcome to my Normal, Illinois.

Toying with . . .

redoing the household budget . . . again.

going down to one car.

rearranging my teaching schedule so that I can volunteer more frequently in Harper's classroom.

working towards having Mary Kay, (well, not literally THE Mary Kay, but rather the business) pay off our debt.

how I'm going to purchase an amp so that I can actually use my new pink electric guitar.

when I can invest in guitar lessons for myself.

getting the taxes done so I can look forward to that big 'ole check that President Bush is sending our way. Um, no, we won't be running out to buy a new TV with it.

the idea that the Clinton's could possibly get 4 more years in the White House. Say it isn't so.

whether the cost of living in Chicago is really too much for us.

"Meet the Focalin's" as the title for a new movie describing our journey into the world of ADHD medication.

selling Harper's med's to pay bills.

toying with thoughts.

Validation, Recommendations, and Rejuvination

I didn't have to teach this morning.

I awoke, gave the children breakfast, drank my coffee, got Harper and Zane out the door and then enjoyed the quietness of a house all to myself. ALL TO MYSELF!

I colored my hair (I have no problem admitting this), got on the elliptical, took a shower, watched Oprah until the President interrupted the broadcast with his bumbling attempts at public speaking (but I listened), had some more coffee, filled a Mary Kay order, and am now, sitting down to write.

The morning was MINE!

This morning I awoke feeling VALIDATED. I do indeed have a maternal gut that I can trust. I do indeed know my child quite intimately. I am indeed an advocate for my precious daughter. My research was not in vain. My discovery that she has behaviors which communicate anxiety and adhd have been validated by Dr. Jha, who through this process of evaluation has been warm, friendly, informed, professional, caring, and complimentary . . . apparently, according to her, I am a good "historian" of Harper. Well, come on, the cord may be cut, but that invisible connection is still attached!

This morning I awoke with RECOMMENDATIONS for Harper. On Monday, we will be discussing medication, further therapy for the anxiety, and academic testing as we continue driving down this unfamiliar road, of which I'm having a bit of an easier time navigating.

This morning I awoke with a feeling of REJUVINATION. As a person who thinks in black and white (with, admittedly, a lot of emotion and drama sprinkled in), having a plan and direction gives me a feeling of freedom. Through this process, I have poured my efforts and energy into Harper and Zane. I have grown to crave time with them. At the same time, however, I have done so at the detriment of my personal health. Eating whatever is around, no exercise, paralyzing myself in front of the TV so that I don't have to think. This morning, in contrast, I took care of myself. It felt nice.

Spring.

Sure, once again, the weather report is calling for snow tonight.

But, through the snow, I see green sprouts of Spring in our home's climate.

The sprouts are tiny. But they are PRESENT and they will GROW.

"So let us know. Let us press on to know the Lord. His going forth is as certain as the dawn. And He will come to us like the rain. Like the SPRING rain, watering the Earth." (Hosea 6:3 NAS)

So let us press on to know the Lord.

Nudge, Nudge

How must I show responsibility in my family?
Does my lack of acting responsibly affect those in my family?
Does God call me to model responsibility?

My need to reflect upon this word and my relationship with responsibility is due, in part, to a situation that occured this morning when Zane woke up. Out of the crib he climbed and immediately turned and yelled in my face, "Mommy! Clean up my room!"

Um, I don't think so.

However, as much as I wanted to tell him to put a lid on it, I secretly wondered if I had somehow played a role in his behavior. After all, my room is a complete mess most of the time, and yet, I am always asking my children to clean up. And it's not as if I have assigned specific chores for Zane (other than helping to put the toys away downstairs), nor have I had the mental or physical fortitude to tackle the idea of family chores over the past few months. The mere thought of implementing a new "plan" or "routine" just fatigues me.

And yet, this does him no good. It does no good to say "Clean up!" when I'm not modeling the behavior myself, and it does no good to avoid putting some schedule in place to help facilitate a daily habit of responsibilities for all the members of this family.

Matthew 25:21 says
“The master was full of praise. ‘Well done, my good and faithful servant. You have been faithful in handling this small amount, so now I will give you many more responsibilities. Let’s celebrate together! (NLT)

While I've not worked all of this out in my head or heart yet, I do know that one of the ways I feel compelled to pray for my family is in the area of our faithfulness in handling "small amounts" (or "few things" in the NIV, NAS). God has given us so many wonderful "small amounts" and He's given us the tools to use them wisely. Have we?

I've come to the conclusion that perhaps we can not get out of this overwhelming pit where we are constantly trying to play catch up in our home because we are indeed NOT being faithful in the small amounts that God asks us to tend to every day. This doesn't mean that I am leaning towards a legalistic or rigid plan of attack. I am leaning towards finding the CELEBRATION that God speak of in this verse. Where's the party????? How do we develop a spirit of sanctuary and celebration in our home?

I believe, that until we dig out (as right now the small amounts are in piles all over the place) and actually handle and take responsibility for the small daily things, we will not experience a CELEBRATION. And for sure, we won't be given any larger responsibilities that could benefit our family.

This is just the beginning of a prayerful thought process based upon some nudgings I've been getting from the Lord.

Ah, I love a good nudge. Don't you?