Friday, July 19, 2013

Finding the joy

Here lately, I've felt a stirring in my heart, in my gut. The same question kept running through my mind.  It troubled me, burdened me, but finally inspired me.

"Where is the joy?"

In the day-to-day things?  In the big stuff?  In the small stuff?  Where did it go?  Why did it leave? Who can tell it's not here anymore?

So, I started to examine myself.  Habits.  Attitudes.  Motivations.

I quickly decided to claim grace and not even let my old friend guilt creep in.  He's just not welcome anymore.  He's taken up enough space in my head for long enough.  After I decided to approach things as opportunities for change, for renewal, God began to open my eyes, and I slowly felt the cogs in my brain start to turn.  It felt good.  Since I've been called home with the kiddos, I often feel like I just don't "think" as much as I used to.  It's truly a struggle to read through a book these days...no matter how amazing it is.  I've been an extremely part-time photographer over the years to try and keep my skills sharp, taken up sewing so I can play with color/pattern/design without having to keep out tempting and toxic art supplies, and tried lots of random things to help with the inevitable void lots of moms feel when they step away from a career for a bit.  These things have made me happy and have been great outlets, but there was just something...you know...

It was the "why?" 

Why was I doing these things?  It's awesome to examine things.  To examine them to their very core...to their origination.

One "why?" I was confronted with was "Why am I putting so much time and effort into my kids' clothes?"  Don't get me wrong.  I enjoy dressing them.  I mean, I'm an artist.  However, I'd gotten more into the "art" of buying and selling clothes than recognizing them for what they are.  Ultimately, they are coverings for our bodies; pieces of fabric that are susceptible to stains, holes, and being outgrown in the blink of an eye.  I'd gotten into the habit of going to thrift stores, not out of need, but just to scour them for brands they were practically giving away.  It didn't even matter if they were two sizes too big.  Next year, Eve would be wearing Persnickety under my watchful eye and only in controlled situations to avoid excessive wear and stainage,  which I could then resell or consign.  Now, before you get offended, it wasn't just about the brand.  I like nice, colorful, original clothes, and these tend to cost a little more.  This was about the habit of spending time and money on clothes just to do it.  I would spend days washing, sorting, sizing, tagging, hanging, and dropping off clothes for consignment sales.  It was so stinkin' stressful sometimes.  My attitude and motivations were jacked up.

I had to break the cycle.  I wasn't trusting God to provide.  I wasn't ok with wearing whatever was provided...whatever was affordable whenever the need arose.  I  needed to have clothes put away to sell.  I mean, we would be naked otherwise.  Duh.

There was no joy.  I was always setting things aside to sell, just so I could get what I wanted.  And when I came to the realization that this was my motivation, I knew it was time for a change.

This is around the time I'd finished reading "7: An Experimental Mutiny Against Excess".  I found an idea in the clothing chapter of the book especially intriguing.  There was a big clothing exchange which was held annually, and there was no money or tagging involved.  So, I just threw the idea out there to some gals on Facebook, and it took.  Nearly a dozen ladies purged some of the excess from their closets, walked away with a few things they could use, and sent a whopping van-load of super nice clothes to a local ministry for women starting over from scratch after incarceration.

I'm not gonna lie.  It felt good.  I didn't feel pride in the execution.  I felt joy from the generosity of so many women who loosened their grip on excess and were ok even if they left empty-handed.  The second exchange will be for kids' clothing, and if you're in the Jackson, MS area, you can join the group here to be a part of discussions and planning.

This was also something my kids so desperately needed to see.  Cade, my 5 year old, had come to me several times asking if he could sell something in order to buy a new toy.  I realized he needed to see me holding things loosely, without all the conditions and criteria.  He needs to see me give till it hurts, which I've found is a super hard point to come to when I have so much extra.  A few weeks later, we were at our local park, and of course he had one of his original Lego masterpieces in tow.  By the time we left, his creation had changed hands half a dozen time and many pieces were scattered and trampled in the mulch.  But instead of fretting over his losses, he expressed that next time he'd like to take a huge bucket of Legos to the park so all the other boys could play, too.  Now, I have no problem with shedding some excess in the Lego department...one block to the foot is one too many, but I knew the potential for an epic meltdown when some of his treasured pieces were inevitably lost or taken.  Therefore, I felt it was my mom duty to warn him of this and save myself from 30 minutes of tears and snot because his Woody figure was missing his head and he'll never, ever be able to build his super special, totally original Woody speedboat again.   His response, well it sure as heck humbled and challenged me, "It's really not a big deal, mom.  I have more than I need, and I know some of them don't have any.  Like, not even 16 Legos."  Ok.  Ummm, sure you can take your Legos.

Disclaimer: I am not anti-designer/boutique.  I am not anti-consignment.  I am not anti-resell.  These are simply things I was allowing to rob me of my time, money and joy.  I do not judge Persnickety buyers or wearers.  Promise.

Gosh, this entry has gone really long, but I do want to throw one more area of "stirring".

The "why" of which church we'd chosen.

About a month ago, after an extremely God-ordained, just...ugh...this sounds super cheese-fest'ish of me, almost magical moment and conversation between my husband and I, we decided it was time to move on and move closer.  We realized our motivation for going to the church we were at was all wrong.  Why were were there?  Because it is an extension of the church we were previously at, and we already knew what to expect.  It was within a "doable" distance.  When we moved to Jackson, we already knew it's where we would go.  And as a result, we both felt lonely, without purpose, and just kind of jaded.  It completely clashed with the whole reason we moved to Jackson in the first place.  We wanted diversity.  We wanted to see, touch, and as much as possible, meet real, raw needs.  We wanted our kids to see darkness so they could understand just how important it is to be light.

Here I was, kinda/sorta in a body where I would never invite a neighbor to join me.  Where I never saw anyone outside of church unless I was 20 minutes away from home.  Since, I'm home with the kiddos, with church and small group as pretty much my main/only time for meeting new people and forming relationships in this season of life, I just wasn't sharing life with anyone there.  I was so incredibly lonely.

So, we are now in the process of visiting churches closer to home.  This is not our first church move.  There's no illusion we will find a perfect place.  We desperately want to find a place to be used.  I'd love to run into someone I know at Kroger or a park that's around the corner and not miles away.  We have seats for 8 at our table, but we rarely fill them.  We want to share our lives with people here because we moved here intentionally.  Though we're leasing, and quite honestly we don't know what the next year holds for us house/location-wise, we are here right now, and that's all that matters.  Basically, we're trying really hard to go "all in" right here.  Right now.  We're seeking, accepting and embracing the joy that comes from relationships and community within our zip code.

Cade will start kindergarten in just a few weeks at a local, public school, and I am beyond excited for him and our family.  Racially, he will be the minority.  He will learn that not everyone lives with or even knows their dad.  My hope is that he will learn to give grace more than ever, continue to give thanks to God for the crazy amount of blessings he receives daily, and challenge the heck out of me as he forms relationships with the innocence of a child, without hangups and mis/preconceptions.

I guess this is where I'll stop tonight.  If you were looking for entertainment, I'm sorry this entry was completely devoid of it, but there it is...my heart.  It's been pierced and stirred a lot lately, and for that I'm so incredibly thankful.

FYI- I published a draft earlier.  It's all about an encounter with prescription meds.  It's a whole lot lighter.



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