365 Days

In recent years, my Birthday and New Year's Day have felt similar to me...

• A day that can mark a fresh beginning, a new start.
• A day that can possess high expectations for perfection.
• A day that fills me with a bit of dread, with the wish for just another ordinary day with no need for special attention... 

365 days have passed. What's the big deal? We all have a birthday. 

But, even with all that cheer, there CAN be reasons to stop and breathe, to review and take inventory...  

So here are some considerations on this birthday of mine.

I've come to appreciate (even celebrate) the fact that I'm kind of a simple girl. Not flashy, not high maintenance. Easily pleased and a "slow-processer" of the busy life whirling around us (see later in this entry). 

At times, I struggle with how much the world around seems to accomplish, to achieve, to show for itself. I often feel far behind. Not enough. Not meeting standards. Nnot grabbing hold of life and all the options out there to fully experience and fully risk.

The beautifully freeing thing? 

That it is possible to learn about and even understand yourself better, and to even kinda like yourself more: the real you, the one you were created to be. 
And each year, we have 365 more days to grow and cherish these realizations: 
How we can appreciate the natural, genuine, true who-we-are... 
That there is no need to strive to duplicate someone else, but instead we can appreciate the who-we-are, and celebrate those unique quirks and traits we often overlook instead of nurture. PERSPECTIVE is a gift.

For me? 
I have been learning that I express myself much, MUCH better through writing my words than by being put on the spot to express my thoughts aloud. 
This is okay.

For me?
I am content with quiet days. 
This is okay.

For me?
I cannot fathom the busyness and juggling and achievement that those with more ambitious personalities have to show for their days. I do my best to manage my imperfect little world and precious little family and cluttered little house around me.
This is okay.

For me?
I tend to yearningly look forward to tucking the boys in bed at night, and the idea of wrapping up responsibilities and retreating to watch an episode of (ahem) Star Trek ;) or somethin' before bed at night. And I also feel somewhat guilty at wishing away social interactions so that I can have some minute to myself.
This is okay.

For me?
I often internalize injustice and anger and am not sure how to best cope with these yucky feelings. I am still growing. I am not "there" yet.
This is okay.

For me?
I do like a tidy house. I prefer order and beauty. But the reality is, I live in a cozy, crazy home filled with the lives of 4 other people who keep me busy, and who need to learn more than "she want toys picked up." But I am still learning this.
And this is okay.

I could spend my precious hours dwelling on the what-others-are-doing, but this produces nothing but a pit. Not a thriving garden...
And what do I want a legacy of Elizabeth to be? That I did well in imitating so-and-do? That I was so consumed with trying so hard, that I neglected uncovering the richness of the individual I was made as. 
Hmm. Not so much.

So. Here is to celebrating the genuine in me:

"Once I finally grab hold, I will take the conversation, the idea, and the influence all the way in, allow it all to move and shape my thoughts and my actions. These slow-cooked thoughts will influence how I love, how I think, how I write. They will fill up holes of misunderstanding, smoothing some of the rounded question marks into straight up exclamation points... Many are in a season of speed, a time of movement, of action, and go. But that is not where I am now. And I cannot wait for the world to stop to embrace my permission for slow.

So here’s to you, my fellow slow-processors. Take the long way home. Embrace the silence to consider.Give yourself permission to think, to listen, to be sure. Here’s to waiting before we move, pausing before we speak, and taking a week to cross of our day list. Here’s to shuffling our feet, playing on the floor, and staring out the window if we need to. Here’s to listening to our questions, sitting in the darkness, and letting our experiences do their deep work within us. Here’s to a long, deep breath."

(Emily P. Freeman)

What can you start to celebrate in you?

These past several years of my adult life, in particular, have nurtured my spirit... 

• the new experiences of motherhood, stay-at-home-mom, etc.
• the blooming of relationships, both the new that have been grown in this stage and this community, and the ones that are decades old.
• the awareness of an untapped gift (like: I.LOVE.TO.WRITE. An enormous heartfelt thank you to each of you who have encouraged me and spurred me onward. Wow.).
• the growth of my faith (becoming more established and thriving in the foundation that had long been constructed. Thank you, Dad and Mom and all of you alongside this continuing journey of mine.)
• the continued maturity of decision-making, of trust, of priorities, of empathy...
• the sense of feeling more content in my own skin. In my own "uniquenesses" and what I have inside to share, to better this world, even in a tiny, seemingly insignificant way.
• the lessons of gratitude: day-changing, life-changing.

"Gratitude without limits invites us into God’s generosity — 
which exiles the lie of scarcity. 

God’s generosity is limitless. 

Limitless gratitude ushers into a life of limitless generosity — 
which ushers into a life of limitless abundance."

(Ann Voskamp)

How will life look different, come next February 27th? No idea, but I can imagine...

• Will we continue to be living in this home that my boys have been born into?
• Will we be in a completely different community than this dear one?
• What struggles will be present in my life in one year?
• What circumstances will feel more settled and at peace?
• What issues will be stirred up to create anxiety, discontentment, grief?
• Will I have written a book? ;) (Okay, bucket list...)
• Will I be concerned about my health and weight? (I love to eat chocolate chips. Anytime of the day. This does not trouble me too much. But will it in one year?)
• How will my boys have changed and grown and become more of who-they-will-be as unique, celebrated individuals?
• How will my days be spent?
• Will life seem at all familiar to today? This can be a bit frightening...

But. 

At the end of the day? No matter what or where?

GRATITUDE CAN BE FOUND.

GRACE WILL REMAIN.

And for these gifts, I am forever grateful. And have peace.

Blessings, dear reader of my words.

Elizabeth

P.S. Pop-up thoughts on my 33rd birthday:

I still cannot believe I am bear the title "MOM".
(Even after 3 children, this name occasionally makes me raise my eyebrows and wonder how in the world I am old enough for this role.)

20 years ago I became a teenager.
(Not sure why that thought struck!)

Birthday surprises can bring tears to my eyes and a smile to my heart.
Flowers, balloons, chocolates, gift cards... 
Yet mainly those priceless words that somehow, in some way, I have inspired someone. Been a blessing to another.
That is what fills my heart to brim.

Eyes open. Hold tight.

Perspective. Values.

In a rush (as typical), I grabbed my yellow coffee mug off the shelf. 

Unknown to me, drips of coffee splashed down out onto the carpet.

My husband tried to tell me, as I looked down onto my mug, coffee still inside:

"It's dripping. On the other side." I looked slightly to the left. Nothing. 

"No, on the other side." I looked a bit toward the right. Nothing. 

"No, it's on the other side, down there." I finally looked underneath. Yes, the tiniest droplet of coffee was poised, about to drip. Ah. 

Perspective.

An analogy came abruptly to mind. 

About our values, what we see as the "only way." 

If we open our eyes and our hearts, we will be flooded with the views and perceptions of others... What is important, essential is that when you are considering a different viewpoint, you do not drop your own cup. Don't let go of your grasp onto your foundation of what you believe, to that pull of your instincts. Yet, do make sure you do take a look around and attempt to view that cup from other angles. Be empathetic. Be understanding of differences. 
Know your perspective, and what is truth. Show love to others with different perspectives, different ways of viewing the same.

Like my dear Curious George mug, there is much for the senses to take in, much to observe and enjoy. But it was wise of me to keep that secure hold on the handle.

Be firm in what you hold to be truth. 

But. Do it in love. 

Truth + Love. 

(Add to those, wisdom...)

I think of our culture, our world... I think of what our children are being exposed to. 

How, just last night, our oldest son asked, innocently enough, a question containing a "bad word." 

...How my heart dropped.

...How I questioned the circumstances we allow him to be in when away from home, our grasp. 

...How it is not possible to protect him from the world.

...And how I actually want to have him in "the world" and exposed to a world outside of his home; how I pray each school morning that he will be a light, that he will be a good friend and show love to others, that somehow his little life will change others' lives... yet my spirit questioned our decisions).

I talked with a wise woman this morning. One who has already raised her kids, who now has preteen/teen grandchildren. Although I don't recall her exact words, her perspective encouraged me deep within. To continue to allow our children to be out in the world, but to be continually active in the teaching, in the building and shaping of their values. That we, as parents, have a beautiful ability to have tremendous impact on the people our children will develop into (for better or worse, right?), and that it is better to allow the exposure to the world when they are young and we have the ability to shape their maturing character, then to bubble-protect/hide them from the world, which can lead to their own inner struggle once the world bombards them in young adulthood. 

Just thoughts I'm considering today. 

Thankful for wisdom. 

And PERSPECTIVE.

Truth + Love + Wisdom.

(And add to those trust...) 

Trust that we have a God who knows our hearts and knows our intentions, knows our hopes. And to know that we do not have control over much in this life (although we sure strain for that sensation of control). But, we are able to seek after God and trust that He will instill in us HIS perspective, HIS truth, HIS ways. 

Truth + Love + Wisdom + Trust = Perspective.

Speaking of seeking perspective...

This ridiculous season of winter/spring/winter/spring has created a muddy "situation" in our back porch. Boots, mud, snowpants, mud, toys, mud. 

(Yes, we have 5 in our family. Yes, the smallest one doesn't even own boots yet. Yes, we have LOTS of boots.)

The beauty-seeker in me desires a house scrubbed clean and fresh.
The realist in me has given up at some point. I am trying to live by this motto:

And truly. When I open my eyes, these 3 small-but-growing boys are absolute treasures. They are muddy. They like being muddy. I can choose to look down at the scuffed up carpet, littered with mud. Or I can look into their bright eyes and rosy cheeks and ruffle their little buzzed heads. And I will HOLD TIGHT to those boy shoulders and squeeze, for this season is a gift, and these lives are a gift. To this undeserving, looking-down momma.

Truth + Love + Wisdom + Trust = Perspective.

Perspective.
In values.
In control.
In heart.
In life situation.

Random assortment of thoughts, but all stemming from that yellow mug, filled with coffee.
(Ahhh... coffee.)
;)

Blessings as we start this week,
Elizabeth

Yet: A letter for the hurting.

"The soul would have no rainbow if the eyes had no tears."

(Native American Proverb)

Dear hurting ones,

These have been days that seemed to be created simply for asking the Whys.  Why must we hurt? 
Why do people suffer?
Why do injustices sometimes prevail?
Why does this world have such ugliness?
Why can't we hide away from the pain?

WHY IS THE WORLD THIS WAY?

I cannot write to answer these questions. Too much. 
I can write to process. I can write to (hopefully) help ease that ache in your heart and mine. I can try my best. I must try my best. Compelled.

Yesterday. Phew. 

Yesterday seemed to be a day wrapped in the revealing of intense pain and grief. Loss of life. Of very young children near my town. Of a young man in my town. Of a preteen girl in my oldest sister's town.

2 deaths by accident. 
1 death by a natural but sudden cause. 
And 1 death by evil. 

It has been enough to capture my heart and squeeze it tight. Very tight. 

There is much, much ugliness and evil in this world. Can we be surprised? 

Wise words from my friend, who has been in the middle of this very ugliness:

"When something pure evil happens in this world, 
people begin to grasp to things to help them comprehend and deal. 
They grasp onto things like blame...

Some evil is so dark it cannot be comprehended and made sense of. 

And instead of grasping onto blame, we need to grasp hold of each other in love."

(Christina Flood)

And there have been absolutely beautiful ways of "holding onto each other in love"... 

• wearing pink, wearing purple to remember those small girls who have been taken from this earth...
• wearing blue to support a young teenager who will likely struggle with heavy questions of "what if"...
• wearing Hawkeye or Bears clothes to grieve at a funeral service, the favorite teams of a young man who suddenly is no longer with his family, friends, community...
• turning on your porch lights this weekend, to honor the life of a young girl who lost her life in an unimaginable way...

I have been struggling deep within as I desire to again be reminded of those age-old answers of the reasons God allows, permits suffering. To be reassured. 

And then last night, while in dinner preparations, I became very.angry. 
In addition to the taxing, emotional, rocking questions of the day's suffering, I became angry at the enormous injustice that had taken place, that had an indirect impacted on my family. 

I saw blame. I saw unfairness. I tried to stifle the foul from spilling from my mouth. #$@&! (Yes, even me. Ashamed.)

I finally asked my husband as he stood next to me, "WHAT can I do with this anger? All this bad news? I can't deny it. That would be Pollyanna and a lie. What do I do with it?!" 

An understanding man, he reminded me of truths we have been hearing this week, from a message series on the radio. About pain, about this broken world. I want to share some of what we've listened to with you...

Some of those thoughts from Chip Ingram:

"The key to moving through a broken world experience: 

Ask God a pivotal question. Ask WHAT instead of WHY.

What do you want me to learn?

What do you want to do in me?

What do you want to do through me?

When we suffer, the world watches you respond: Like, "I can't imagine how (you) made it through that situation with that attitude, apart from a real God, who is really alive."

Those who have been hurt deeply tend to love deeply. 

Those who have suffered deeply, those who have been wounded deeply: 

it produces something in you that you didn't have, that causes you to reach out and care in way that you never did before.

How we endure hardship shows the world how real God is."

(Chip Ingram,

There is an incredibly relevant message series you can listen to online for free: http://livingontheedge.org/series/rebuilding-your-broken-world/daily-radio)

The reality we face: there WILL be pain and hardship on in this world. No doubt. But how do we not become consumed with despair, with depression, with giving up?

"Yet I call this to mind, and therefore I have hope:

Because of the Lord's faithful love, we do not perish.

For his mercies never end. 

They are new every morning;

great is Your faithfulness.

I say: The Lord is my portion, therefore I will put my hope in Him."

Lamentations 3:21-24

Yet.

That is the word that makes ALL the difference. 

What do I do when I am overwhelmed? 

Yet this I call to mind, and therefore I have hope. 

Key to remember: HIS PROMISES.

Why am I not consumed? 

Because of the Lord's great love. 

HE is what gets me through.

How do I know God will keep loving me? 

His compassions never fail.

When will God's love show up? 

When it is needed each.new.day. 

(Like manna)

There will be a new way He expresses it to us EACH day. 

LOOK. 

FOR. 

IT.

(notes from a message by Pastor Dave MacKinnon, 
Westchester Evangelical Free Church,

December 30, 2012)

"Yet I will certainly bring health and healing to it and will indeed heal them. 

I will let them experience the abundance of peace and truth... 

They will tremble with awe because of 

all the good and all the peace I will bring about for them."

(Jeremiah 33:6,9b)

Yet.

Yet, with all the ugliness, there continues to be sources of strength out there, ready and willing to remind us of those essentials of life. What we may lose sight of in the stress, the anxiety, the busyness, the blur, the pain.
Music. Relationship. Nature. Hobbies. Solitude. FAITH. HOPE.

Just one avenue of blessing for me? Choosing just a couple of those countless blogs that overflow with words of blessing, words of encouragement, words that urge us to remember... our placement of priorities, our value as individuals, our need for grace and peace, the benefit of living in the moment, of recognizing and grabbing hold of the joy.

Please:

Keep on searching. Keep on processing.

(Me? I process by just this: typing out, writing out words. Writing down makes the intangible somewhat touchable.)

Are you like me? 

Then write.

Does it help to share aloud, to expose those thoughts, to unravel the knots, the hurts, the emotion?

Then talk.

Does it help to run, to exert?

Then run. (Like my oldest sister, get out that jogging stroller with your newborn baby and run.)

Just PLEASE give yourself grace and give yourself healthy ways to process this journey, these questions, those struggles. To somehow feel a thread of control, in this world that spins crazy.

Oh, I feel such a burden for you, fellow suffering one.

"Did I not weep for him, whose day was hard? 
Was my soul not grieved for the needy?"

(Job 30:25)

"I'm convinced that the greatest act of love 
we can ever perform for another person 
is to tell them about God's love for them in Christ."

(Billy Graham)

So the words in this picture below are what make my heart beat strong, what gives me passion to wake up each morning. Like a New Year's Resolution... 

Blessings, dear ones, as we are on this up-and-down-and-up-again journey together,
Elizabeth


P.S. Just a few more treasured gems with truth on suffering, struggling:

"The most beautiful people we have known are those who have known defeat, 

known suffering, known struggle, known loss, 

and have found their way out of its depths. 

These persons have an appreciation, a sensitivity, and an understanding of life 

that fills them with compassion, gentleness, and a deep loving concern. 

Beautiful people do not just happen." 

(Elisabeth Kübler-Ross)

"I don't look at happiness as being a great goal.

A sense of peace, definitely,

but it's like the seasons.

I think we're meant to have a spring, summer, autumn and winter.

I'm not looking for a perpetual summer, 

because that would be a flat line."

(Joely Richardson, after the sudden death of her sister, Natasha Richardson)

Struggling and joy are not chronological. 
But concurrent, fluid moments. 

"STRUGGLING CAN DEEPEN JOY."

(Ann Voskamp) 

Thank you, Dad

Tomorrow is my dad's birthday. February 18th. 
My dad and I share this same birth month. As we said goodbye yesterday afternoon, I told him, "Happy birthday." He smiled and responded, "You, too!" I smiled. 

Something exists in my dad that I long to grab hold of and build inside of me. He is a man of great patience. That picture above? I looked out the window of my childhood bedroom the other day, to see my faithful dad outside shoveling the driveway. Steady. Unrushed. Thorough. One solid step in front of the other. (His third daughter? Not so much. I rush, I scurry, I have a furrowed brow. I make messes and regret my haste. My dad? He patiently completes his work, whatever the task on his mind. Quietly, focused, paced. Not rushed. I sigh. Can this trait be grown in this impatient daughter of his?)
Thank you for humbly modeling this, Dad.

It was in the midst of graduate school that I began to be blessed with recognizing a bit more of my dad in myself. (Well, what I want to see in myself!)
The way he is a man of carefully chosen words. Not full of unnecessary comments, but instead well-thought out words for conversation. The result is this: when my dad speaks, others listen. This is beauty. 
Thank you for your words, Dad.

I am living my adult years in the same town of his childhood days. What an unexpected, yet tremendous, connection we share! My heart swells with pride in this home of mine, his hometown... now the very place my own children call their hometown. And now the stories and details of his growing up days are understood and cherished in an entirely different, real way. Connection. Reconnection with Hurd relatives. My dad's and my evenings we worked side by side, planting flowers outside my little white house. 
Thank you for your devotion, Dad.

My dad has the most contagious laughter. When he laughs, you will, too. Especially when listening to those infamous jokes from that infamous little black notebook. When he laughs, his face is completely involved. His eyes dance and you cannot help but smile, even join in. 
Thank you for your joy, Dad.

I have the same uniquely pointed elbows as my dad. 

I have the same freckled, sensitive skin. 

I have the same preference to not be in front of crowds, to not be the center of attention. We do it when we are needed, but we prefer to be behind the scenes, I believe.

Thank you for sharing these traits with me, Dad.

Never will I forget that day I approached my dad for advice. It was a conflicted situation with a friend. I yearned to reconcile, but was also oh-so nervous. His experienced words of wisdom are etched in my memory. ("May the words of my heart and the meditation of my heart be pleasing in Your sight, Oh Lord, my Rock and my Redeemer." Psalm 19:14) 
Thank you for your support, Dad.

Another cherished memory from years back? When I was engaged to be married, when my dad and I went on a date night. Crystal Tree for dinner and "Finding Nemo" in the theater. A rare gift, which I hoped to make more tangible with a stuffed Nemo for my dad. How proudly the bright orange stuffed fish was placed on my parents' navy-burgundy-white quilted bedspread. Not caring it completely clashed, but my dad shared Nemo was the only (one of the only?) stuffed animals he ever received. Made me smile big every time I passed their bedroom. 
Thank you for your love, Dad.

My dad is a man with a burden to pray. A man of prayer. Prayed at our wedding. Prays for his children. Prays for the world. Continues to pray, always pray. With tears in his voice. How I love that he can't help but show his heart with his emotions. You cannot help but receive the genuine from my dad.
Thank you for your heart, Dad.

My dad taught us kids to learn the Bible. To memorize. Even when remembering the agonizing repetition he had us do to review our AWANA verses, I now appreciate his emphasis on the Word. He has read the Bible. Often. Daily. Dedicated. 
Thank you for the life lessons, Dad.

And now I cannot stop these thank you notes for you, my dad:

For those family adventures as we traveled in my growing up days. Countless memories of unique scenes taken in, lessons learned, history made real, creation appreciated, family growing in our bond. 
Thank you, Dad.

For transcribing our simple thoughts into those small diary books as we read Bible stories and Mini & Maxi Muffin books with you each night. We learned how routine and questions taught us to understand our faith, even in that childlike way. For drawing The Bridge illustration for me on that May 22, 1988 Sunday morning when we returned home after church. And praying with me those words as I made that choice to follow Jesus with my life.
Thank you, Dad.

For enjoying your Balder grandsons. For helping them feel special, feel smart and unconditionally treasured, for causing them to laugh. For giving of your hours to play alongside those energetic little boys. Who may someday be husbands, dads, grandpas themselves. 
Thank you, Dad.

For teaching me how to do my best as a parent. Priorities, love, discipline, love, modeling, love, affection, love, boundaries, love. How each night, my boys insist I ask them, "And WHO loves you most of all?" "JESUS!" (Hmm, wherever did that question and answer come from?) For passing on important traditions, like The Purple Book at Christmastime
Thank you, Dad.

For being committed to my mom. For helping with the dishes after meals. For shoveling the driveway. For getting all those oil changes. For writing those notes overflowing with words of affection for her. For allowing us kids to feel stable and secure in your marriage to mom. For always giving her those kisses while we faked being grossed out. For lovingly caring for her after her hip surgery. For consciously/unconsciously showing me through daily life what kind of man to choose as my own husband. 
Thank you, Dad.

This list could continue with words and more words... So much more I could add.
I hope you can recognize what a man of humility and respect and character and integrity you are, Dad.
Thank you for being faithful and dedicated and a man of faith and commitment. For providing for your family. For teaching me what is most important in this life.

Happy birthday, Dad. As I tell my boys, I love you to the moon and back, just in case you ever wonder!

Father of the bride, in pictures...

 (My dad, quietly serving, to make a day special.)