April Excitement!

The three of us had a blast dying Easter eggs; it was Caleb's first time, and he loved it!











And last night, Eric gave me an early birthday present: sidewalk chalk!

Walking and Planting

Taking full advantage of the nicer weather this morning (which has since deteriorated back into clouds and near rain), my grandma and I took a walk around out neighborhood.

Mom started this a couple months ago, suggesting that she, Grandma, my sister and her sons, and Caleb and I walk together twice a week. Mom, Grandma, and I have been faithful, my sister has joined us only once. However, two weeks ago, Mom was hired (!!!) doing a familiar job. So now it's back down to Grandma and I. I'm loving it. It's exciting to have that time with her; we've never had that before. I'm loving getting to know her as a person, someone other than "the mystical entity that is Grandma." Very exciting.

Then right after I put Caleb down for his nap, I quickly planted my newest plants: a fern, a forsythia, and some flowers that look like poppies but aren't (and I can't remember their name right now). It felt good to dig in the earth, until I chopped an earthworm in two; I did a little freak-out dance and stifled my gag reflex. I have to remind myself to be thankful for the worms; worms are my plants' friends. It's a constant learning process.

Good Friday

Every year Good Friday becomes an increasingly difficult day for me.
This year, the sky is dark, and it is windy and steadily raining. Fitting weather for such a somber day.

It's hard for me to hold in my head the gravity of today. The depth of sorrow and pain, is hard to stomach. I try to hold onto the image of my Jesus on the cross, broken and scourged in the worst imaginable ways. I try to hold onto him and honor him, but it's a fight to keep my mind in that space. It is so dark, so hopeless, so full of guilt, I subconsciously push it away.

But today is the day I need to be in that dark place. To remember the immense sacrifice. To remember that Jesus endured the darkness of Hell (God shut him out and turned away) so I wouldn't have to bear that eternal rejection of the Father.



It's too big for me to grasp, really. I am so small, so wretched, so undeserving, and yet Jesus loves me. It sounds trite and overstated, but I know no other way.

It seems so easy to tune out these thoughts, move on to happier things, but I'm trying not to. I'm trying. Because today my Savior dies, and will be buried, and the world will be bleak and dark and empty because I am nothing without him. But on Sunday his tomb will be empty, and he will have conquered even death.

Amazing love. Amazing grace.
I can only be thankful and full of awe.

What do I have to say?

I always feel this driving need to write. My fingers itch to type words, a blank sheet of paper is begging to be filled.

But what do I have to write about? What do I have to say?

There is only so much I can write about the weather... And daily chores are hardly interesting. I'm not witty, I'm not funny, and my sarcasm doesn't translate well in cyber-space.

And what do I really have to say? I don't even know; I don't even know where to start. All I know is that I desire to write, I long to write. I want to update my blog daily, but never know what to say.

How do I develope my voice? How do I weed out what thoughts are useless and redundant, and what thoughts are worth growing?

I suppose this is a start.

Not what I meant...

So this morning I was singing, "Rain, rain, go away; come again another day," with Caleb. A few minutes later, it started snowing. Snowing sideways. And two days ago, the temperature was in the sixties. Ah, Idaho weather, how fickle you can be. Snow was not what I had in mind when I wished the rain would go away...

New Clothes

I went shopping at Old Navy yesterday to pick up a couple skirts; hooray for sales! It was nice, and so generous of Eric to tell me to buy some new things, especially when I don't really need them, just want them. But oh the horror of the dressing rooms. There is nothing more frustrating to me than picking out an item that I love and just can't live without, only to try it on and end up looking either a. pregnant, which I am not, or b. like a toad stool. Yuck. I ended up skipping a dress I'd fallen in love with, but did find a couple skirt that look pretty cute.

I'm definitely cured of my shopping craving for a few weeks now. Any more than that, and I don't think I'd survive.

Progress

Due to my diligence in exercising five times a week, and the switching of birth control, I am finally, finally seeing some results. I cannot tell you how encouraging this is to see. My pants feel a little looser, my shirts fit a little better, my belt is two notches tighter, and my abs are retaking shape. After so much work, and changing our diet, I'm more than thrilled.

Today is a good day. The sun is out, the sky is blue, and Caleb and I enjoyed most of our afternoon outdoors- pre and post lunch.

Notes on Joy

For Bible study this week we did a word study on "joy." What does it mean to have joy? If I lack joy, am I missing the Holy Spirit, since a sign of having the Holy Spirit is joy?

I have always struggled with those questions, and with the guilt that came from not feeling joyful as I thought I should. But after meeting this morning and putting together everything we'd discovered and meditated on throughout the past two weeks (we didn't meet last week), I came to some incredible, freeing realizations:


1. Joy is not a feeling. It is from God; God's joy, not mine.

2. Joy is something God creates in us, not something we feel (Psalm 51).

3. In the Old Testament, joy is shown outwardly, as with the Holy Spirit (i.e. dancing, singing, the pillar of fire, the temple). Whereas in the New Testament joy is an inward manifestation of the Holy Spirit, and I become the outward symbol of Jesus (i.e. light, salt, temple).

How freeing to realize that joy isn't something that I have, it is something that God has and shares with me. This strips away all the guilt I have been feeling, and takes my focus off of me and places it back on God, where it rightfully should be.

Kindred Books

I love it when I start reading a new book, and know by page 4 that I need to own it, so I can underline and highlight to my touched heart's content. It's like meeting someone and realizing you are kindred spirits; I love when kindred books find me.

A Million Miles in a Thousand Years by Donald Miller (he wrote Blue Like Jazz) is that way. I feel like the author has written what I couldn't find the right words to say. It resonates deep within me; he felt at that time what I am feeling now. How wonderful to identify. And how wonderful to find a beautiful/true sentence on nearly every single page. (For example, this just blew me away: "Somehow we realize that great stories are told in conflict, but we are unwilling to embrace the potential greatness of the story we are actually in. We think God is unjust, rather than a master storyteller." Amazing.)

Life of the Beloved by Henri Nouwen is another one that grabbed me right away. How could it not, with words like this: "When we are thrown up and down by the little waves on the surface of our existence, we become easy victims of our manipulative world, but, when we continue to hear the deep gentle voice that blesses us, we can walk through life with a stable sense of well-being and true bleonging."
Or this: "Every time you feel hurt, offended, or rejected, you have to dare to say to yourself: These feelings, strong as they may be, are not telling me the truth about myself. The truth, even though I cannot feel it right now, is that I am the chosen child of God, precious in God's eyes, called the Beloved for all eternity, and held safe in an everlasting embrace." Just... wow. Powerful, empowering stuff, that.

I also love when I am itching to dig into a stack of new books. I've been given and/or lent several books I can't wait to start on. (Redeeming Love from Mom; A Million Miles in a Thousand Years from S; Dog On It from A; Silky Dream Girl from Eric's mom; and I'm in the middle of World War Z from F.) I love that my closest friends and family know me so well they can recommend books they know I'll enjoy; I love when I can do the same for them.

So what about you? Any recommendations? What should I immediately add to my list?

Oooh Man, Am I Sore

Aside from the fact that I'm coming down with the flu or another sinus infection, or something equally yucky, I. am. sore.

I've been taking a weekly modern dance class for over a year now, and have been absolutely loving it. It was one of the key things that helped bring me out of my post-partum depression, and into the light of a fulfilled, happy life. It challenges me to meet new people, something I am usually not thrilled to do, due to my on-going self-esteem issues. (Will they like me? Will they think I'm stupid? Annoying? Fat? etc.)

In short, it's been very, very good for me.

This week, I added a second dance class to my schedule: African dance. Oh my goodness, I cannot tell you just how much fun this class is. First of all, there are live drummers providing the music. It is so energizing and exciting. Also, the instructor is legit, having studied dance in Africa, as have most of the drummers. She teaches by example, not using many words at all. Everyone is smiling and sweating and loving it. It is so, so much fun.

But my goodness, my legs are so sore after two nights of dance in a row. My calves will be amazingly toned in no time though, for sure.

I love being able to be so involved in something I love so much. I love that Eric is so supportive of my desire to take these classes, and not resentful at all that I'll be spending one more evening out of our home. I love that he encourages me to do these things, and that he loves who I am and how happy it makes me to dance.

I feel so blessed to have the opportunity to take these classes, to explore new ways of self-expression, and to (gasp) meet new people with similar interests. I am blessed, indeed.