A Spring of Joy

Glimpses of our world…

  • His Perfect Will

    The other day while the boys were in their gymnastics class, I sat with my Bella to watch. She spent most of the time curled on my lap lisping childish comments about her brothers. But then a couple of girls on the sidelines caught her eye. They were playing together, running on a line, trying to jump like frogs, and spinning. Oh, the spinning. It was delightful.

    “Mommy, can I ask those girls if I can play with them?” Bella asked.

    I loved that she wanted to take that step. “Of course, honey.” I encouraged.

    She stood and watched them a for a few more minutes. I could see the longing in her eyes. The ache. Finally she turned back toward me, tears filling her eyes, “But what if they say, ‘No’?”

    I thought my heart was going to break in two and spill love all over that room. How can she be so much like me at such a young age?

    ~~~~~

    While driving past the hospital the other day, Bella piped up, “That’s the hospital. That’s where you go to get better. Mommy, do you have to go to the hospital again? Will I have to go to the hospital? Mommy, I am scared to go to the hospital.”

    While reading “Dumbo” to her yesterday, Bella cried when Dumbo’s mommy was put in the cage. “Mommy, I cry when you have to get put in your cage.” (Okay, no comments from the peanut gallery.) When I asked her what she meant, she said, “The hospital is your cage. I cry when you go there.”

    She’s three. It just doesn’t seem right that a 3-year-old knows all that. Aren’t kids “supposed” to live in this safe bubble of fun and childish delights?

    ~~~~~

    One Friday, I sat in mini-van row outside Asher’s school waiting to pick him up. Bear and Bella played in the front seat together next to me while we waited. Bella especially liked leaning out the window and watching all the big kids leaving the school. She recognized one of Asher’s friends, and waved and waved, “Hi Susie (not her real name)! Hi!” Susie waved excitedly. “Oh!” Bella cried, “Susie waved at me.” Her world was complete. Then Susie turned, looked at Bella, and said snarkily (is that even a word?), “I wasn’t waving at you. I was waving at my friend.” Bella was crushed. She bent her head on my lap and wailed.

    It makes my heart hurt.

    Kids can be so cruel. And I know my kids are not exempt. They will be cruel, too. They will crush others. And that makes my heart hurt, too.

    It is hard to watch my littles grow and learn and hurt and fear. It is even harder to watch them take my characteristics. Characteristics that I don’t like in myself… fear of what others will think, fear of being accepted, easily hurt and feeling the pain etch itself into my heart to stay.

    It’s a defining moment when you begin to see yourself in your child, and you realize the things they have in store for them. Part of me doesn’t want Bella to be like me and struggle with the things with which I struggle. But, you know, God doesn’t give us the wrong anything. He doesn’t give us the wrong parents, or the wrong job, or the wrong husband, or the wrong child or the wrong circumstances. He gives us exactly what is perfect for us.

    Even the pain that she has suffered and will suffer in the future. It is in order to perfect His will in her life.

    That doesn’t diminish the pain. But it helps me get through it.

    And I pray it helps her work through it, too.

  • Sunday Selections

    …our Lord promised that the beautiful thing she did would not be forgotten. When the disciples rebuked her, Jesus said: “Leave her alone. Why do you trouble her? She has done a beautiful thing to me.For you always have the poor with you, and whenever you want, you can do good for them. But you will not always have me. She has done what she could; she has anointed my body beforehand for burial. And truly, I say to you, wherever the gospel is proclaimed in the whole world, what she has done will be told in memory of her” (John 12:6-9, emphasis added).

    Amen. Millions more people have heard of Mary’s inner beauty than have ever heard of the latest reality show contest or beauty pageant winner. May we all follow in the footsteps of this woman whose character is known to us, but whose face and form were never described.

    Read the full post by Carolyn McCulley at her Radical Womanhood blog.

  • The Best Mother’s Day Ever!

    No, I’m not talking about tomorrow, although I grasp every day with my children as the best day ever. I’m taking you back in time… 6 years ago, to be exact… to an entry in my journal from that year. And every Mother’s Day, I think about that one day when Asher was 16 months old.

    And I think about my husband. And how amazing he is.

    Happy Mother’s Day, y’all.

    Written May 12, 2003:

    Yesterday wasn’t the Mother’s Day that I had imagined it to be, but it was so very much more. On the way home from my parents’ house last night, just as we were about to enter the interstate, Brian spotted a delapidated, yellow Volvo station wagon wieghed down with luggage piled to its roof, and piles on top of the roof as well. There was a tired looking man and 3 children standing next to its open hood, so Brian pulled over to see what help he could offer. I was tired after spending the day going to church, visiting friends with their new baby in the hospital, and celebrating Mother’s Day with my family at my parents’, and all I really wanted to was to get myself and Asher home to bed. It was late, it was dark, and the last thing I wanted to do was stop to help some broken down old car. (Notice I was thinking about the car, not the people!)

    As Asher and I waited in the car, Brian helped charge the man’s battery, and he stood there talking freely with the man and his 3 kids. He was amazed to find out that this Volvo held not only the man and his 3 children, but his wife, 4 other children, and a dog were in there as well! All I could think was, “How on earth?”

    Then to add to the adventure, another truck pulled up to see what was happening, and out stepped a man so giddy with alcohol, we didn’t know what to do. Fortunately, Brian had just gotten the Volvo running again, so they didn’t stick around too long, but long enough to freak out the man’s wife, bring the man to tears, and they jumped back in their car and took off not knowing where they were going or what they were going to do.

    Their story was heartbreaking, and as Brian got back in our car, he sat down with a heavy sigh…7 children stuffed into the back seat of a $200 Volvo they bought at an auction in Southern California, no car seats, no seat belts, and they had been chased by tornadoes the whole way across the country as they had driven with only $400 to their name. They were headed to Massachusetts, planned to sleep in their car again that night, and hoped their car would make it.

    I listened to their tale, and cried at the mental anguish these parents must be going through as they drove their children across the country to who knew what. We sat for a few moments, and then Brian said, “Let’s go find them and get them a hotel room for the night!” Honestly, the first thought that crossed my mind was, “Pay for a hotel room? With what money?!” We were “struggling” ourselves. Our bank account wasn’t too full, and I wasn’t feeling too financially secure at the moment. But Brian’s heart showed through, and God spoke to me through the most compassionate man I know, my husband. These people had nothing…we had a roof over our heads, meals on our table, two cars, a steady job for Bri, and a God who had promised to supply our every need.

    It was a wake up call that followed on the heels of a powerful sermon that morning in church…a sermon that talked about how God would always provide for us. How we have so much to be thankful for because the Lord is good and His love endures forever. As I looked back at our small son, snuggled warmly in his car seat, sleeping and knowing no cares in the world, I wept at the joys of how much God truly has blessed us with, how blind I am to see it, and how sad the world can be.

    We turned the car around, and drove down to the next exit, scouring gas stations and hotel parking lots looking for the family. We finally pulled into the WalMart shopping center, and I said to Brian something about this being a last ditch effort. As we perused the lot, Brian prayed for us to find them, and I told Brian that if God put it on our hearts to help, he would show us the family. Not two seconds later Brian exclaimed, “There they are!” You would have thought we were reuniting with long lost friends, our excitement was so vivid. I had put together a bag full of whatever we had in the car that wasn’t tied down…diapers (their 10 month old had been wearing a diaper for 10 hours… think about that for a second), wipes, potato chips, cheerios, tissues, and Brian pulled up next to the car.

    The oldest daughter, who looked to be about 11 or 12, came over and said she remembered us. We chatted with her for a while, and Brian gave her the bag of “goodies”. She was elated, and thanked us profusely. Then Brian got out and talked some more with the man, while she came over to my window to talk with me.

    “You sure are lucky to have a man like him.” she told me.

    My eyes filled with tears as a I realized how true she was, “Yes, I am, “ I said. “ I sure am.”

    Then, with a twinkle in her eyes, she whispered, “ He’s really hot, too!”

    I laughed and said, “He sure is! You and I must have good taste.”

    We giggled at “our little secret”, and then she noticed Asher asleep in the back seat. “You have a baby, too!”

    I told her about Asher and she said, “He sure is lucky to have you for parents. And I’ll bet he’s beautiful, too.”

    “He most defnitely is beautiful.” I said, and I looked back at my beautiful boy. And he is so blessed to have such a daddy..such a wonderful, compassionate, thoughtful, and yes, “hot” daddy.

    We got their hotel accommodations taken care of and went our way…leaving 2 hours later than we had expected. Our savings account held $80 at the time, and the hotel cost us $65, but at that point, I didn’t care. All I could do was hold Brian’s hand and cry and cry. Here was a family who had nothing but a car and whatever they could stuff into it to their name, and here we were with so much more than we could ever need.

    I thought about something my friend, John Thomas, had written, “…our very best times are never so enjoyable as when we have someone with whom to share them. And…our very worst times are almost unbearable with no one to carry the load with us. God gave us to each other to edify and to lift each other up…to walk the road together.”

    And I am so thankful, for we have so much…our Father, our family, our friends, each other, Asher, and yes, another little one on the way…so very much more than we could ever have asked or imagined. So, my Mother’s Day? Well, it certainly wasn’t your typical Mother’s Day, but it was the best I’ve ever had!

    “Give thanks to the Lord, for He is good. His love endures forever!” (Psalm 136:1)

  • May 5th

    For Thou didst form my inward parts;
    Thou didst weave me in my mother’s womb.
    Psalm 139: 13

    May 5th. All around us are signs of Cinco de Mayo. It’s all over facebook, the news, it’s even on Google calendar. May 5th. A day of celebration.

    May 5th. The due date of our first child. The child we lost 8 years ago.

    The pregnancy was a surprise. The loss was heartbreaking.

    Grief is a funny thing. A heart-stopping, knee-buckling, ache-inducing thing. It hits at the craziest times and the pain takes your breath away. And every May, as the due date of my little lost one approaches, I feel that pain all over again.

    I used to wonder how I would ever get over it.

    The answer is that you don’t, but one day you wake up and realize you don’t mind carrying it with you.

    And 8 1/2 years ago, when I was pregnant with this little one, I wrote these words in my journal:

    There is so much excitement and joy… yet so many fears. I am so afraid I will lose you. What if I miscarry and never have the chance to hold you, to love and nurture you?

    I am thankful we have a God Who is in control; Who knows what is best for us (all three of us). I take contentment and joy in knowing that if we do lose you here on earth, God will hold you in Heaven.

    My child. What volumes those words speak! I am a mom! Not going to be… AM one. And soon, very soon, I pray you will be with us where we can love you in a whole new way.

    My child.

    I love you.

    Beyond words.

    No, I never had the chance to hold that sweet child.

    But.

    I still love my child.

    Beyond words.

  • And A Little Child Shall Lead Them

    A few weeks ago one Sunday I learned a lot. Not from the sermon. I learned a lot from my son.

    A while ago I wrote about worship, about how we were made for worship. My children were made for worship. There is a beauty and an innocence in their hearts that is convicting. They have no agendas. They don’t care if the music is too loud or too soft. They have no concerns about their pitch. They only know freedom to be who God created them to be. Worshippers.

    Now that Asher is an avid reader, he loves reading and singing in church. And he doesn’t complain (well, sometimes he complains about how long we have to stand). All he knows is that he’s going to sing and worship. He doesn’t complain about song choice. He isn’t distracted by poor sound mixing or messy notes. He isn’t affected by “lack of energy” or personal preference.

    He. just. worships.

    And a few weeks ago on that Sunday when he sang every song at the top of his lungs looking back and forth between Brian and me and grinning widely, it was the best Sunday I can remember (and there were a lot of songs that were not my personal preference). I was able to freely worship. Why?

    Because, once again, my son taught me how.

  • Sunday Selections: How Great He Is!

    I can’t watch this without

    1.) crying

    2.) getting goosebumps

    3.) thinking this is how How Great Thou Art was meant to be sung (and I’m not even a big country fan)

    ,

  • What If We All Smoked?

    While driving to my grandparents’ from my Aunt Louise’s, Bear and Bella began a conversation that had Bri and me in stitches. It was their first foray into seeing people who smoked over and over, and Bear was fascinated.

    Bear: MOM, what if everyone in the whole world smoked?!

    Me: Well, that would be something, wouldn’t it?

    Bear: Then we could all go outside naked and not get cold, because we would be on fire!!

    Oh, to be in his mind for two seconds.

    Bella: Bear, I just saw a TIger outside the window on the HIGHway.

    Bear: (pushing himself up to see out the window better) Really? Are you sure it wasn’t a lion?

    Bella: It was a tiger and it had it’s mouth open like this! (opens mouth and bares teeth)

    Bear: Maybe it was a lion. If I had a dog, I’d have him fight the lion.

    Bellla: And the dog and lion would scratch each other and fight.

    (A few more minutes of descriptive lion, tiger and dog fights ensued.)

    Buddy, apparently, tired of the whole conversation, decided to end it.

    Buddy: (completely deadpan) I’d never let my dog fight a lion, because then it would be DEAD.

    Yes, we have renamed him Killjoy.

    The rest of the ride back was in silence (save for the occasional giggle from the front seat).

    ,

  • Learning the Language of Grace

    I am learning the language of grace each day. Grace for myself. Grace for my children. Grace for my husband. Grace for my friends & family. Grace.

    People ask me all the time how I’m doing. I really don’t know how to answer that. How do I explain that while I may be fine one second, give me one second more and I could feel like collapsing from fatigue or my emotions may betray me into a heaping ball of sobs? I am on medication that makes me nauseated and irritable. I have one year down and four more to go of that drug. As a side effect from chemo, my brain doesn’t make connections like it used to, and I find myself overwhelmed by the smallest tasks.

    Overwhelmed.

    It is so much for me to get through my day just taking care of my children much less to have the strength to do laundry, clean my house, plan & make meals, de-clutter, etc. And I want to do more than just care for my children and Bri. I want to put the energy into loving them.

    Someone (with good empathetic intentions) responded to this struggle with, “Oh, yes, taking care of children is overwhelming.” I wanted to cry when they said that because there was no understanding of the depth of my struggle. It is so beyond the normal. And normal for me before? It wasn’t overwhelming. There was rarely the question of, “How am I going to get through this day?” Home management came naturally for me, perhaps because I had such an amazing role model with my mom. Our home was a fairly well-oiled machine with a squeaky gear every now and then, but it was life and it was easy. Easy compared to this. I honestly have to pray every day for strength to just get out of bed because of the pain and fatigue that lingers.

    One of our elders, Bruce, was encouraging me recently and said, “It’s so easy to think, ‘Oh Angie’s done with treatment. She’s better now.’ But recovery is a long, hard road.” He understood it. And it was so good to be understood. That each day is a battle. That I have no energy to pursue others. That pain is exhausting. That some days, I take a 4 hour nap. Yes, you read that right. Four hour naps. That if it weren’t for my mom, I don’t know how I’d do this.

    How do I explain this? That tasks that used to take me 30 minutes now take 2 hours. How do I explain the anxiety and fear that washes over me with each new ache or pain? Is it new? Do my bones ache because cancer is forming? How do I explain the fact that the loneliness still remains? That I am unable to pursue others like I long to. That relationships are exhausting work for me, and I need all the strength I have for my family. That I need a place where I can just BE and not DO. Honestly, I haven’t found that safe place yet. Perhaps it’s my own hang-ups. Perhaps it’s a trust issue, because there is hurt there. Perhaps it’s my own issues and expectations I place on myself. Perhaps it’s a mixture of them all.

    I’m learning to let go and not focus on what used to be, but to move toward the now. Today is what I have. Today is where I am. I can’t compare it with yesterday. I am different. I am changed. I am learning.

    Yes, I am learning the language of grace each day. Grace for myself. Grace for my children. Grace for my husband. Grace for my friends & family. Grace. Beautiful grace.

    “It is good for the heart to be strengthened by grace.” Hebrews 13:9

  • Wednesday Worship: There Is A Reason

    Yes, I’m hurting, in so many ways and for so many people.

    But hurting brings my heart to Him, in so many ways.

    He gives me eyes to see.

    And there is no better place to be.

    Longing for home today.

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    Artist: Alison Krauss
    Song: There Is A Reason
    Album: Alison Krauss & Union Station

    I’ve seen hard times and I’ve been told
    There isn’t any wonder that I fall.
    Why do we suffer, crossing off the years?
    There must be a reason for it all.

    I’ve trusted in You, Jesus, to save me from my sin.
    Heaven is the place I call my home,
    But I keep on getting caught up in this world I’m living in,
    And Your voice it sometimes fades before I know.

    Hurtin’ brings my heart to You, crying with my need,
    Depending on Your love to carry me.
    The love that shed His blood for all the world to see;
    This must be the reason for it all.

    Hurtin’ brings my heart to You, a fortress in the storm,
    When what I wrap my heart around is gone.
    I give my heart so easily to the ruler of this world
    When the one who loves me most will give me all.

    In all the things that cause me pain You give me eyes to see.
    I do believe but help my unbelief.
    I’ve seen hard times, and I’ve been told
    There is a reason for it all.

  • Losing My Mind

    This morning after ushering our oldest out the door to school, I followed the cacophony of sound back to Bella’s room and found my two youngest playing together.

    “Y’all ready for breakfast?” I asked.

    Bear scrunched up that cute little nose, “You already asked us that, Mommy.”

    “I did?” I moved to make Bella’s bed.

    “Yeah,” Bear sighed, “You must be losing your mind.”

    Bella piped up, “But I like you, Mommy.”

    That’s reassuring.

    “Auuuudrey. We HAVE to like Mommy. She’s our Mommy!” Bear sighed in exasperation.

    Bella laughed, “Oh, Micah. Yes. She is our Mommy.”

    “Yeah.” Bear said matter-of-factly, “Our mommy that’s losing her mind.”

    My reassurance is completely gone.

    Bella looked at Micah and said calmly, “Well, let’s fight about it.” She then picked up a water gun (fortunately, it was empty) and pretended to shoot her brother.

    Sigh.

    I’m going back to bed now.

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