Joy Project Update: Goodbye November!

Grandma says to the boy

"Everything has its time
And everything's time must end"
I thanked her for the checker games
And all the coffee talk
And said "I'm glad we had a chance to be friends"

                                                                                              - Craig Cardiff

 

Three months in. Three months. I can hardly believe it. When I started this project at the end of the summer, November seemed unreachable. Now I'm hearing Christmas carols on the radio, preparing music with friends for a Christmas banquet in a few days, and seeing snowflakes every once in a while. Where has the fall gone? 

 

To be honest, I'm actually quite relieved that November is almost behind me. November last year was terrible. Getting out of bed and managing to eat was an accomplishment. And really, I only was able to do that because I knew that I had a wee bairn in my belly to care for. This past month as the anniversary of John's passing loomed, I was preparing myself for the worst, probably creating more difficult days than necessary in anticipation of a possible crash on the 15th. Because of this, the 14th was the hardest day of all. In an effort to sideline my mental 'what if' games and to avoid possible collapse into an emotional puddle, I spent all my free time that day repeating an online quiz that tests your  ability to name the countries of the world. I didn't keep track of my attempts, but just to give you an idea of my obsessive behaviour that day, I was first able to name 86, now I can name 194 of 196 fairly consistently. Ahhh... it's over. Goodbye November.

 

I've been thinking of Craig Cardiff's song, 'Grandma' this morning. I love those opening lines. I love the idea that "Everything has its time". If that's true, and I believe it is, that makes it ok to have days when I feel like I'm going to cave in on myself. Feeling that is a part of being human and it really is OK. BUT there's also a time for hauling myself up, or for letting others haul me up, or to process things enough that I arrive at a place of peace. I hesitate to say it, but I think I'm there. I think climbing out of the pit has been a combined operation of clawing, climbing, and being pulled up and out with help; but really, what matters is I'm out. 

Looking back on the last few months, I can say with certainty that today I feel lighter, cleaned out, and more at peace. This process has been different than I had envisioned. I tried at first to make this project about DOING things to force Joy, but I've been after some failed attempts that Joy is something much deeper than that. Joy in my life has a whole lot to do with the condition of my heart. This past season has felt to be one of self examination where I stirred up some painful stuff for the sake of getting rid of it for good. Instead of trying to drown my brokenness with happy distractions, I have had to first face myself, recruit some help and undergo some mending. 

 

I'm not saying I'm forever finished with dealing with difficult hurts, just that in this moment, in this season, I have arrived at a place where instead of dealing with a back-log of messy heart issues, I feel I'm in more of a 'maintenance mode'. Ahhh... I don't think I could explain how great that feels if I tried. As the Irish say, "It's better felt than telt".

 

Yesterday was a particularly tricky day, Sophie wasn't feeling well, was having trouble sleeping and breathing and just wanted to be held. All. The. Time. There was literally a disaster in every room, poopy cloth diapers to deal with, stinky garbage silently making its presence known and I couldn't get to any of it. AND to top it off, two ladies were to be arriving in the evening to work on some music with me. Three months ago, all of this would have been cause for a tearful mess. Yesterday however, I mostly just felt disappointed that the day had gone the way it had.  Not upset, not angry, not even frustrated, just slightly disappointed. Progress? I think so.

 
Today, it's almost noon and I'm sitting in a messy house with dirty dishes, a scummy bathroom and still in my pyjamas. However, Sophie is sleeping, has had three diaper changes today, has been fed twice, has enjoyed lots of cuddles and a load of laundry has been washed. I'm marking this a successful morning. Done and Done.

Ecclesiastes 3:18, Craig Cardiff and Pete Seeger say, "For everything there is a season", so as November is on its way out (the month my sister Rachel declared should just be banned from here on in), I'm saying goodbye to the time for weeping and mourning. Laughter and dancing, here I come!

Kid, You'll Move Mountains!

It's just an ordinary day And it's all your state of mind

At the end of the day, you've just got to say it's alright.

                                                                                                   - Great Big Sea

My sister Jess, who is the queen of fun mail, sent a package this week with a "Green Eggs and Ham" onesie for Sophie. It is by far the most fun onesie that fits her at the moment, the fun factor being upped by the "Dr Seuss" across the bum. 'Fun' trumps 'cute' and 'pretty' just about every day for me. Let's be serious, in a couple years, she's going to have something to say about the clothes we put her in, so I need to get my fun in now.

I've been thinking about Dr. Seuss lately, and how perhaps I need to re-read some of his not-only-for-kids books. On Friday evenings, Sophie comes with me to hang out with the Youth at The Element. Last week, she lasted until nine, but when her happy shouting and 'finding shoes to eat' activities were seriously disrupting the movie, she was scooted out to the nursery. After I managed to get her to drift off and I had read all the books in the room, my eyes drifted to a big Dr. Seuss poster on the wall that declares, "Kid! You'll Move Mountains!". I remember hearing this book and loving this thought as a child and young teenager, but I think somewhere along the way I think I stopped believing it could be true. At some point, I started doubting my gifts, my intelligence, my abilities and making more of my introverted personality than necessary.

The truth is, I often struggle with feeling inadequate. At this point in my life, because I am at home much of the time with Sophie, this translates into feeling crumby about what I haven't managed to get done over the course of the day. Any day, I could give a "To Do" list of about 20 things I want to accomplish, and a "Ta Da" list of maybe three of those items. I have a Self-Improvement goal list with goals at least eight years old. I have a pile of books I feel like I should read, messes to be cleaned up, food to organize and a yard that needs some serious attention. Because I have an unrealistic idea of what I 'should' be able to do with my life, I'm not able to enjoy the feeling of accomplishment that comes with checking some things off my list.

I need to remind myself that feeling defeated and BEING defeated are two different things. The battle, almost always, is in my mind. So today I chose to fight. Today I need to speak some truth into my life. So here we go...

Stephanie. You can still move mountains. Later on, that mountain may look like a new career to explore, a stage to perform on, or a marathon to run. Today, your mountain may be a pile of laundry, and that's ok. When you get to the bottom of it, or half-way through, or use it for a fun smooshy pile to play with Sophie on, you don't have to feel crumby about not getting to the bathroom floor yet.

The house DOES NOT NEED to sparkle daily. So stop feeling guilty about it.

At this season in my life, my focus needs to be on loving Kyle and loving Sophie. She needs to be  fed and changed and dressed, cuddled and sung to and danced with. I need to eat properly, sleep, exercise and hang out with Jesus. I need to love Kyle. If I can honestly say at the end of a day that these things have been done, then I am a success.

The way life is right now is just that - the way it is RIGHT NOW. This season is not permanent. The things I'm worrying about today just need to be prayed about and left alone. My worrying about it doesn't do anything but keep me too occupied to actually do anything productive.

The things on my to-do list are often unimportant and not urgent. The sheer number of items makes finishing the list impossible for any normal human, so why do I routinely allow myself to feel defeated at the end of the day when it turns out I'm not a super-human? It's really ok that I'm just Stephanie. 

I am not a mess, although sometimes I may look like one. I am not a failure, although I sometimes feel like one. The truth is, I am God's masterpiece (Ephesians 2:10). I can attack today joyfully. I can be singing today whether or not the counters get cleaned. This evening I can throw the unfinished 'to do' list to the wind and hang out with my family in my messy living room. Whether or not we enjoy being together does not depend on the cleanliness of the floor.

So I don't need to be upset that my mountain isn't the same one I'll be moving in a few years. I'll get to that one later. In this season of my life, with the gifts and talents and tasks given to me for this moment, as Stephanie, even though they may look different than before, I can still move mountains.