Good times

It's Word of the Year time, people!!

Apparently, this is also one of the few times a year I can muster the discipline to sit down and write anything for this erratic, ever-diminishing blog. But the New Year is not the time to quibble over details or fixate on failures! Let's be hopeful, and optimistic, and believe that this is the year I will write at least five blog posts!

Or, at least one more than last year...which was one.

So, let's go for TWO!!!! 

You can tell I am filled with all of the hopes and dreams that a new year and a NEW DECADE inevitably bring. I am positively Pollyanna!

This year my Word of the Year (henceforth to be known as WOTY), came to me well before the close of 2019. I wasn't even trying to think of one, and my train of thought was really somewhere entirely different, but I've found my WOTY can be tricky that way. It likes to sneak into my subconscious when I least suspect it.

It's like a ninja WOTY.

But let's back up for a minute...

My WOTY came to me on a day when I was feeling a bit melancholy (it happens) and was fixating a bit too much on unknowns, things that are a-changing, and just generally stuff I can't really control. That's always a good recipe for melancholy.

There are good things happening all around me. I'm watching my children, especially my older two, step into new opportunities and live their lives more and more independently. That's always been the goal, right? That whole "Preparing to Launch" thing means...one day they launch. And one of my main goals as a mom has always been to allow my kids to grow up free from feeling that they owe me a certain amount of time, attention, or gratitude. I want very much to have relationships with them for as long as I am on this earth, but I don't want relationships that are coerced or borne of out of guilt. I want them to be free and to know that I am always right here...their #1 fan.

I love all the ways they are forging their own paths and making their way in the world.

But I do miss them.

2020 also brings a milestone birthday for me.

Yep, all of us 1970 babies are turning 50 this year!

For the most part, I'm fine with every new age that comes along. I tend to not get too focused on birthdays, even the biggies. But this one carries some extra...stuff.

I rarely do parties or even much else in the way of celebrating my birthdays. (Although I do refuse to ever cook dinner on my birthday. That's my bare minimum.) I'm just not that into them. But the two big-ish parties I did have, for my 30th and my 40th, were both orchestrated, directed, and insisted upon by Tracy. Now SHE was a party girl, in the very best way.

There is no doubt in my mind she would not have allowed my 50th to pass quietly.

It is also always on my heart that our favorite party girl never had the chance to celebrate her 50th.

So, on this melancholy day, I was thinking about all these good things, hard things, things that have been, things that never will be, and all of the things I'm hoping for and wishing for... and it came to me...

It was so obvious.

My 2020 Word of the Year is....

CELEBRATE.

(And if you just heard Kool and the Gang start singing in your head, well, you are my people.)

Celebrate the little things.

Celebrate the big things.

Celebrate the everyday.

Celebrate the extraordinary.

Celebrate all we have been given.

Celebrate all that lies ahead.

Find something to celebrate every. single. day.

In many ways celebrating is both natural and foreign to me. I'm looking forward to celebrating in ways that come easily to me, and also stretching myself to celebrate those things that might challenge me.

I want to celebrate for myself and for others. I really want to celebrate for others.

2020 is the year I find my inner cheerleader (a cheerleader who can't even touch her toes and never in her life could do the splits). An inflexible but enthusiastic cheerleader!! 

I'm still not going to have a big party for my 50th, but I do promise not to let the day pass without some sort of celebration, however small. It may not be entirely Tracy-approved, but she knows me and I believe she will understand.

Mostly, I intend to focus on the everyday and celebrating all the small, good things that make up a life.

An unexpected text message from a friend.
A meme that makes me laugh.
Sleeping in.
Good news shared by my adult children.
Couch and TV time with Annie.
Dog snuggles.
A husband who snowblows in winter, gathers leaves in the fall, and cuts the grass in the summer. And a million other ways he takes such good care of us.
Chips and salsa.
After school visits from my niece and nephew.
Sister time.
A good book.
Watching the cousins swimming at the lake.
Snowy winters and hot summers. (Although the snow gets harder and harder to celebrate the older I get...)
French fries.
Fresh baked cookies.
Champagne. (!!!) (TONIGHT!)

The list goes on and on.

So, off I go into this year of Celebration. If you have any good news to share in 2020, large or small, be sure to let me know and I will be the first to give you a big, "WOOHOO!!!!" (I can and will do the 'Woohoo", but do not expect splits or cartwheels. I am 50, after all. Almost.) 

And, because no WOTY is complete without a VOTY:

Happy New Year, friends!

I celebrate each and every one of you!

XO

Riding on the backs of whales

When I was very young, probably only 3 or 4 years old, I remember riding in my grandparent's boat on Hayden Lake. We were speeding along and the boat was bouncing up and down on the choppy water. I asked my Grandpa why the boat bounced up and down like that?

He gave me a smile and said, "Don't worry. We're just going over the backs of whales." 

Going on a whale hunt!
(Obviously I'm the only one who gets it. Whales, people! Look alive!)

I spent the next several summers peering over the edge of the boat hoping to catch sight of one of those whales. Sometimes I still do.

Around the time I was 7 or 8, I developed a strange nighttime phobia. My young, overactive, slightly weird mind became convinced that if I were to put one leg outside the covers at night, a witch would come along and paint my leg.

Looking back, it seems to me that if a witch is going to pay you a visit in the night, painting your leg would be one of the more benign spells he/she could conjure up. So I'm not entirely sure why I was so afraid of this Van Gogh-like Witch that lurked in the shadows of my bedroom. But nevertheless, the idea that I might wake up with a purple leg was enough to keep my legs safely tucked under the covers no matter how warm I got.

When my sister came along and grew old enough to participate in my fanciful adventures, I was not above manipulating her youthful innocence to join me in my bizarre inner world. She still loves to share how I convinced her that this random, lone screw on the ceiling of her bedroom was really the opening to a secret candy chute to which, of course, I held the only key. If you know how much Baby Valerie loved her sweets then you know this was rather mean storytelling on my part. But, truth be told, knowing how my mind worked and how easily I myself believed in magic and mystery, I really do think I just wanted someone else to see what I could see.

I mean, OBVIOUSLY that was a portal to a hidden candy chute. Who couldn't see that?

Oh, the places we will go, little sister!
So...see that funny little silver thing on your ceiling...shhh....don't tell anyone but....

All of this is to say that I have always had a rather rich, expansive, easily influenced imagination.

My mother loves to tell the story of how one day she had another adult come to the house for some sort of meeting. A good 45 minutes into their conversation the visitor felt compelled to interrupt their discussion to say, "I just have to tell you that those children have been playing so nicely in there!"

My mom hesitated for a moment and then started to laugh. "Children? That's just Lori." 

Apparently the visitor literally had to get up and see for themselves that all of that animated, verbose, delightful chatter was indeed the product of one, small child.

I suppose that's why to this day I never really mind being alone. Me and my constant inner dialogue are our own One Woman Show! 😃

Imagining the unimaginable. Turning the ordinary into the extraordinary. Conceiving of the inconceivable.

Easy peasy.

The problem is that as much as imagination can be a gift, it can be equal parts curse. Because sometimes it means you give life to ideas and visions and fears and worries and worst case scenarios that haven't even happened. That may never happen. That most likely never will happen.

Thoughts and perceptions that are not true, or at least you don't know them to be true.

Storylines that have never played out anywhere but in your own head.

Amplifying the voices in your head instead of the voices of the real life people who care about you.

When imagination takes the place of reality, or faith, it loses its value and the positive, creative function it can play in our lives.

When I started mulling over what I felt I was being called to explore in 2019, at first I thought my word would be FAITH.

But it wasn't quite right.

For me, FAITH is the constant undercurrent of my life. It is who I am. Even when I wrestle with doubts FAITH is still the firm foundation I can't help but find my way back to.

It is.

I needed something to DO.

I wanted a verb.

I wanted a word that felt active.

(Well...not too active. I mean more mentally active. Something I can still do while sitting on my couch.)

What is the verb of faith?

If faith is the be-ing, what is the do-ing?

On the two hour drive to my sister's ski cabin it came to me....

BELIEVE.

Believe the best in others.

Believe God is for you.

Believe in the big picture, everything is unfolding as it should.

Believe your children, especially your adult children, will find their path and thrive.

Believe in the power of each new day. God's mercies are new every morning.

Believe that it is not all up to you. Rest.

Believe that it will not kill you to leave the house after 5pm. (I may not practice this one until at least May or June...).

Believe that the future holds unknown blessings and adventure. (Nothing toooo adventurous, I hope).

Believe in naps. (Done.)

Believe that which is true, noble, right, pure, lovely, admirable, excellent, and worthy of praise. (Philippians 4:8) Not paint brush wielding witches, or any other improbable, unlikely, unreal, scary scenario you've dreamed up.

Believe, believe, believe...

What a perfect word to center me and bring me back to what is real in 2019. I'm sure there will be any number of ways I will get to BELIEVE in the year ahead.

And for anyone who is thinking, hmmmmm....BELIEVE is a good word but I can't help but notice it's just a tiny bit Christmasy???

What can I say??

If I have to spend the next 365 days with Josh Groban singing in my head...well, that can't be helped.

And because I always pick a scripture to go along with my Word of the Year....

Bonus! BELIEVE gets two!

The first is very personal to me and is the first scripture that always comes to mind when I think of belief and the challenge of putting faith into action.

"Lord, I believe; please help my unbelief." -Mark 9:24

I soooo get this guy. Belief...easier said than done sometimes. In fact, most of the time. Love this reassurance by one of my faves, Frederick Buechner.

And this one, because it's short and sweet and brings it all back to the point.

So, there it is.

Let me finish by saying I BELIEVE in you. I believe in the spark that is gifted to each of us by the Creator. I believe you are here for a reason and whether your purpose feels large or small by worldly standards, your presence and participation are needed and necessary.

You are loved.

Believe me.

Happy New Year!

Fly like an eagle

It's that time again!

I can't believe my year of HAPPY has already come to an end. For a word that arrived with more than a little skepticism on my part, I'll admit it served me well. I truly think about happiness differently now and know I will continue to carry my happy intentions into 2018 and beyond.

In fact, the thought of not having HAPPY as my guiding word anymore is kinda making me a little sad. :(

I mean, who doesn't want to be happy?

(However, if you don't want to be happy, or find yourself avoiding happiness, it might be time to figure out why. I totally recommend a year of HAPPY.) 

But the whole point of the Word of the Year isn't that we leave those guideposts behind at the start of a new year, but rather that we keep them as part of our ever-expanding toolbox of growth and learning.

So, stick around HAPPY and let's see who else is joining the party!

A few weeks ago, I would have told you that I had no idea where I was headed for 2018, but in the past few days one word has kept tugging on my sleeve and whispering in my ear.

I've learned to pay attention to overly persistent words.

Honestly, I don't really know what to say about this word because I'm not at all sure where it's leading me. I am also not really sure why my soul seems so gosh darn certain I need this word. But the number of ways this word has kept coming at me lately leads me to believe that Somebody is 100% positive I do need this word.

And interestingly enough, listening to that voice is giving me my first opportunity to practice my 2018 Word of the Year.

Drumroll please....

My 2018 Word of the Year is....

TRUST

At first when this word kept leaping in front of my face like a classroom full of Kindergartners who all want to tell you what they got for Christmas, I was sure I knew what my verse would be.

When I think of TRUST I immediately think of Proverbs 3: 5-6:

Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding;

In all your ways acknowledge Him, and He shall direct your paths.

Solid verse for sure. 

Totally TRUST-centered and useful. 

Buuuut.....that same little inner voice kept telling me that wasn't the verse I was looking for.

Maybe it is because that for me, as of right now, I'm not sure TRUST is about looking for direction, or the right path. It certainly COULD be...life comes at ya fast. Who knows what could be around the corner?

I'm prepared that I may have some very unexpected lessons in TRUST ahead of me.

But as of now...no....for me....I feel like TRUST is about releasing the generalized anxiety that has settled in my chest of late. It's laying down the burden of feeling like I need to do everything just right for everyone else so that their lives can turn out okay. 

It's about being free, and light, and confident that in the big picture, at all times, in all ways, we are held and loved and safe.

So, instead, I'm going with this verse:

I could use me some "new strength" and even though I really prefer to do more sitting than walking or running, I like the idea of soaring. 

And....eagles make me think of my Dad. 

Flying like an eagle also makes me think of the Steve Miller Band which I only share to let you know what God is working with when he deals with this scattered, easily distracted, musical brain of mine. 

Have mercy, Lord. 

God knows I need it. 

But I TRUST that He can use even the most imperfect of vessels like this one to bring His light into the world. 

I wanna fly like an eagle...

to the sea....

fly like an eagle...

let my spirit carry me...

Alrighty then...looks like we have a 2018 Theme Song, too.

And a mascot.

I'm liking 2018 already. 

No day but today

This morning, Facebook took it upon itself to remind me of a blog post I wrote two years ago today. It was a post about Advent, and Mary, and choosing to be still when the world swirls in chaos.

In other words, still oddly appropriate for today. The more things change, the more they stay the same- as they say.

More than that though, two other smaller details, unrelated to the words of the blog post itself, jumped out at me.

First, my sweet friend Annie had left a comment on the post. Annie was also someone who loved to write and always expressed herself beautifully. Two years later, Annie is no longer physically with us in this world.

Second, looking at the date of the post, I realized I wrote those words one week before my world would be upended in ways I could have never imagined. Talk about chaos and disruption and confusion and grief.

Two years later and two of my favorite people in the world, two people who were the best of friends to one another and so many others, are gone. With us, but not with us.

Sigh.

I know....I know...A bit gloomy for this first Sunday of Advent.

I'm known for my love of Christmas music, the happy endings of Hallmark Christmas movies, my abiding love for Santa, and more often than not a childlike glee of Christmas that rivals Buddy the Elf.

That's all true.

But, like so, so many others (and everyone eventually), I've known some sad Christmas seasons. In fact, there is still a lot of heaviness to this one.

That's when I am grateful for Advent and the real Christmas story. Because while it's a joyful story, it isn't really a happy one.

It's pretty dark. It's a little scary. It contains more than a few confusing elements. And in the end what it asks most of you is simply faith.

Or not so simply.

There are many ways to live out one's faith. For me, continuing to love Christmas in the face of sadness is one of mine. It is my way of saying to death, You cannot have this. You are not powerful enough to make me lose this, too. 

Tracy and Annie were full of light. Literally bursting with it. To choose light is to choose them. If they are to be found, and felt, it will never be in darkness.

Which is why even when darkness descends, which it does from time to time, I always know I can't stay there long. I might rest there for a moment. It can feel like a relief sometimes to just let the despair rise and take cover in the blackness. But it won't take long and their spark will start to flicker from somewhere, telling me it's time to come back.

Come back into the light.

Live.

I saw Rent this past week, which was one of Tracy's favorite Broadway musicals. I hadn't seen it in years so seeing it now, on the other side of this loss, was a wildly different experience.

When I had said I wanted to go to the show, it felt like maybe it was a strange choice to see during the Christmas season. Having just seen Holiday Inn the week prior, it was an odd juxtaposition.

Really though, it was pretty much the perfect contrast.

Holiday Inn- the happy, giddy, bubbly side of Christmas. Rent- the dark, melancholy side of Christmas. Yet in both stories there is the reminder that what we have is each other. We are here to love each other, celebrate with each other, help each other, and hope that there is a happy ending somewhere down the line.

I believe there will be.

I believe in the Light.

How do you measure the life of a woman or a man?
How about love?

Seek and find

The following is a sermon I gave in January, 2013 on Epiphany Sunday at Magnolia Presbyterian Church. I am choosing to post it here mostly for posterity but also because Epiphany has become very special to me over the years and even more so in the past year.

Permit me one more memory from December, 2015. When we were meeting with Father W and Deacon S to plan Tracy's service we spent a great deal of time just talking about Tracy. Father W encouraged us to tell stories, share memories, and to offer up our own feelings about who Tracy was and what she meant to us.

Because Tracy and I spent so much time together as part of her parish women's group, I had a lot of insight into her faith and her spiritual journey. I was trying, but struggling, to put into words what my heart desperately wanted to communicate to Father W about Tracy's heart for God.

I eventually stammered out something very close to this (while going through multiple tissues), "She might not have been traditionally religious in the sense that she didn't read the Bible much, she wouldn't have been able to quote scripture to you, and she didn't necessarily go to church every Sunday. But from the time she was a teenager, she was on a journey. She felt God in her heart. She didn't always know what the "right" answers should be when it came to doctrine or theology, but she was....a seeker."

Father W nodded and smiled the whole time I was speaking. He then said simply this,

"To seek God is to find God."

In those words, he brought me enormous comfort.

Since then, I have looked up those words and found they originated with Gregory of Nyssa and the quote is actually completed this way,

"To seek God is to find God. To find God is to seek God."

I like the wholeness and the circular nature of the longer quote. Faith can so often feel like an endless of journey of seeking and finding and then losing your way again.

To me, Epiphany reminds us that the journey is worth it.

And that if we continue to seek...we will find.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------
(Please note: This was written to be spoken, which is always a bit different than if it were written only to be read.)

We Have Seen His Star
January, 2013

Years ago, I remember reading a Bible story to my oldest son, Jack. Jack is now a pretty big kid, almost 18 years old, but at the time he was maybe about six years old. Close to the age of some of you kids sitting here today. I don't remember exactly which Bible story we were reading but I remember that when we got to the end of the story Jack looked at me and asked me very seriously, "Did that really happen?"

Now I don't know about you but sometimes I get to this point in the church year- 12 days out from Christmas- Epiphany Sunday- after all of the traveling, family gatherings, eating, gift giving and receiving- and finally having returned home to mounds of laundry and a startling return to school and the daily routine- sometimes I feel just like my little Jack did when he asked me that question so long ago. I can't help but look around at times and ask myself, "Did that really happen?"

This amazing, miraculous piece of our Christian story. God choosing to be with us in the most humble, surprising way. A little baby, born in a manger. Angels greeting shepherds with the incredible words, "Do not be afraid. I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. Today in the city of David a savior has been born to you; he is Christ the Lord."

When we gather together on Christmas Eve and light candles and sing familiar carols, it's so much easier for it all to feel just that close. But now...almost two weeks after...Christmas Eve is already feeling like a memory. I'm sure it is for the kids among us. School is starting back up and I'm sure that some of you even already have reading to finish, projects to complete or you know that all of those things will be coming soon. Grown ups are back to full work-weeks and anxious to get all of the clutter of Christmas put back in the boxes and put away for another year. Soon, all of the tangible evidence of Christmas will be gone. No more decorated trees, wreaths on doors, lights on houses...

Did that really happen?

And that's what I love about Epiphany. Just when we are all tempted to put the Christmas story behind us and start pushing forward toward Easter- we pause to revisit the Nativity one more time. We take time to hear again one of the more puzzling parts of this familiar story and consider what it means for us.

When we read Bible stories downstairs in BLAST one of the things we sometimes do is to identify together 'what does this Bible story tell us?'- and 'what does this Bible story not tell us?' This can be useful when we are learning some of the more familiar Bible stories because it is interesting for the children to see how sometimes we remember stories based more on tradition than what is written in scripture. I remember when we did this a year ago with the story of the wise men the kids were particularly fascinated to realize how much of our retellings of the birth Christ are rooted more in our own imagination than in the words of the Bible.

For example: the kids were surprised to learn that nowhere in the words of Matthew does it tell us that there were only three wise men. We don't know where the wise men came from other than it was east of Jerusalem. We don't know the names of the wise men or even how they came to recognize the importance of the star they saw and why they would know that meant a new king had been born. We don't know how long they traveled or how old the baby Jesus was when they finally arrived. And even though we often refer to them as Kings, we don't know that they were kings at all since the Bible doesn't tell us so. And finally, other than knowing they took a different route home to avoid that evil King Herod, we don't know how their lives might have been different after having seen and worshiped the son of God.

So, that was a pretty long list of things this Bible story doesn't tell us. But anytime we go through this process in BLAST of figuring out what we know and what we don't know we always finish by asking one question. In fact, you would find this question printed out in big letters on our bulletin board down in the BLAST room. The question we ask then is, "What's the Big Idea?"

The reality is that the stories in the Bible often have some big holes. And that's why allowing some degree of imagination to fill in the gaps is completely understandable and even useful. Using our imagination to consider there might have been a fourth wise man named Hank, or whether the Innkeeper might have been a bit cranky about all the interruptions that big night helps us remember that these are real stories about real people. People who lived and breathed and had good days and bad days, but were all part of God's story. But even when we use our imagination to try and give some color to these stories we have heard so many times, there is still information missing that we might wish we could have. But if we look carefully, usually we can find a bigger message, beyond the details of the story, that we can take with us and apply to our lives.

So, What's the Big Idea in this unusual story about some unidentified wise men who followed a star to find the Baby Jesus?

Bible scholars far more knowledgeable than myself have come up with some pretty interesting answers to some of the questions as to the details of the story. There are educated guesses as to where the wise men came from, how many there were, who they were and why they were interested in the possibility of an infant king. But I want to keep it simpler than that today. I want to look at this in much the same way we would if we were downstairs in our BLAST class.

So, what's the Big Idea?

Well, the first thing we can say is that this story emphasizes yet again how incredibly important the birth of Jesus was. Important enough that men in a foreign land, not of the Jewish faith, decided to spend considerable money and time to witness this newborn king. We don't know how far they traveled or how long it took them to get to Bethlehem but it is easy to imagine that it couldn't have been a simple journey and yet the wise men clearly refused to give up on their quest to follow the star. We should be just as determined and courageous in our own decision to follow Jesus.

Second, the fact that these wise men came from somewhere other than Jerusalem and were not Jewish reminds us again of the angel's words from the gospel of Luke that he "will be for all the people." Jesus didn't come only to save the people of Israel, but to save all people. He didn't come to show God's love only to the Jews, but to everyone. The wise men are one of our first examples of just how far God's love can and does reach.

Third, one thing the scriptures do tell us very clearly is that when the wise men did find the Baby Jesus the very first thing they did was to fall down and worship him. We have no idea what sort of faith or understanding of God these men had and yet once they were in the presence of the Son of God they could nothing else but worship him. Somehow they knew this child was more than just special, he was holy. The wise men then are an example to us all of what our response should be to the presence of Jesus in our lives. Our response should be to worship him.

Finally, as I read and re-read this passage of scripture over the past week, the words that kept jumping out at me are the ones I then chose as my sermon title, "we have seen his star". Those words spoke to me for two reasons. The first, is this is another one of the clear and indisputable details of this story. The wise men saw a star that was in some manner so unusual and remarkable they knew it meant something extraordinary was happening. In fact they go so far as to call the star "his star" meaning the new king's star- demonstrating that they absolutely believed the star and this baby were unquestionably connected. Certainly other people must have seen this star if it was so noticeable, but as far as we know, only the wise men saw the star and followed.

But perhaps more importantly for us today, the other thing those words kept bringing to mind for me is the thought that WE have seen his star, too. You, me, kids, teenagers, grown ups... we have all seen his star. We have heard the story, we have sung the songs, we have celebrated his birth. We too have seen his star. What will that mean for us?

Will it quickly fade to nothing as we become busy again with daily routines and obligations? Will the star become a distant memory until sometime in February we find ourselves wondering, "did that really happen?"

Or, can we find in ourselves the determination of the wise men and keep following that star throughout the year, however long it takes, wherever the journey may take us, until we find ourselves in the presence of Jesus?

We have seen his star. We don't know how the wise men's lives might have been changed after having seen and worshiped the son of God, but I can't help but believe that their lives were changed. And my prayer for myself and for all of us this Epiphany is that having seen his star, our lives will also be changed. I pray we will all be moved with greater urgency and passion to follow the star, to fall down and worship the son of God, and to share our gifts with the world that God created and loves so much that he gave his only son.

We have seen his star- may it continue to shine in you and in me so that the love of God might be known to all people, everywhere.

Amen.

 

"For we have seen his star in the east and have come to worship him."
Matthew 2:2

Clap your hands

Here we are again. January. 

Fresh start. New calendar (unless you are like me and use a 17 month calendar and therefore are still using the same calendar you were 6 days ago). Goals. Dreams. Resolutions. All that January jazz.

A few thoughtful and possibly bored friends have asked about my One Word for 2017. Even Annie asked me last night if I had made my One Word choice. I can't tell you how much it pleases me that I have become known for such consistency. That is never not often the case with my grand and bold ideas. But here I am- five years into my One Word approach to the New Year and I'm still hanging in there! 

Can I get a WOOHOO?!

Of course, probably the reason choosing One Word for the New Year works for me is its simplicity. 

Note to self: keep things simple.

(If you want to read about my past One Word selections you can go here and find all of my previous posts relating to my One Word.)

Having now done this a few times, I'm finding that arriving at my One Word looks different every year. One year I made lots of lists and charts and Venn diagrams to finally settle on a word, and another year the word came to me in December and I never looked back. There have also been words I struggled against only to realize that the struggle was indicative of how much the word was needed. 

This year has been another fight to the death battle between myself and my One Word.

Okay, maybe not fight to the death....more like icy stares across the room while lobbing passive aggressive phrases like, "Bless your heart", and "No, really, I wanted you to have the last cookie. It's fine." 

I like the word just fine. It's perfectly useful in conversation, writing, and for naming one of seven very small men who live in a cottage in the woods. It just makes me nervous when I think about carrying it around for an entire year. 

First the word...and then an explanation.

In the words of Matthew McConaughey, Alright Alright Alright...

...my 2017 One Word of the Year is....

HAPPY!!

Huh. Really? Happy? As in, the superficial second cousin to Joy and Gratitude and Generosity and Contentment?

Yes, Happy.

Believe me, I tried to go with one of those A-List words. I worked SUPER hard to get Joy to apply for the job. But Happy kept finding her way to the front of the line, resumé in hand, ready to get to work. 

I wasn't sure what my DEAL was with Happy until I read this:

We are highly suspicious of happiness. We really do want to be happy - secretly of course - but we'll tell everyone else it's joy we want. Because isn't joy the holier aim? Isn't happiness against the rules?

And then on the next page, this:

But this happiness we seek is not a wimpy emotion. Happiness has been advertised as some kittenish, fluffy feeling. In reality, happiness can make your heart race with excitement- and sometimes with a bit of fear. Because on our happiest days, we are worried it won't last. (emphasis mine) ~Jennifer Dukes Lee from The Happiness Dare

And there it is.

Happiness can leave us feeling vulnerable, especially when we know what it feels like to go from feeling so very happy to so very sad. Opening ourselves up to happiness again can be a risky endeavor.

Last night when Annie asked me what I had chosen as my One Word this year, I very hesitantly told her I was leaning toward Happy.

With all the wisdom and innocence of childhood she smiled and said without reservation, "That's a really good word, Mom."

I was beginning to think she was right...but I just. still. wasn't. sure.

And then I found myself up at 3am unable to sleep.

Sidebar: I'm here to tell you that the whole middle-age-mom-insomnia thing is no joke. Thank you to my darling children for giving me so many sleepless nights for the past two decades that my body now believes waking up in the middle of the night is normal and FUN and necessary. Bless your hearts.

I tried and tried every trick in the book to get back to sleep but they were all to no avail so finally at around 4:30am I got up and pulled out a little book of blessings I often read before bed at night. (Maybe if I had remembered to read this before going to sleep I would not have needed it in the hours before dawn, but that's neither here nor there now.) 

I never look ahead in this book so I had no idea what the blessing for this day would be...

It was one of those moments I found myself both laughing and crying. Quietly, that is. (It was 4:30 in the morning, mind you, so a full LOL would not have been okay). 

I got so tickled by the words, "I recommend having fun...". I looked it up and of course there are other translations with loftier words like mirth and joy and merry, but I felt this translation (NLT) was chosen just for me. It's actually quite rare to find Bible translations that utilize the exact words 'happy' or 'happiness' much (again, JOY is a bit of a scripture hog) but even more rare to find the word 'fun'. I'm loving it.

So, you only have to throw so many bricks at my head before I figure out to duck, and you only have to give me three or four obvious signs before I finally say, "Ohhhh...you want me to go this way..." 

I'm quick.

Now that I've gotten my head around Happy, I'm pretty excited about it. Because the thing is, true happiness really flows out of all of those other good words. You can't be happy without being grateful. You can't be happy without a balance between work and rest. You can't be happy without contentment. You can't be happy without being attentive to your health. (Although God did tell me to eat, drink and enjoy life so....). You can't be happy without giving to others. And you can't be happy without choosing joy. 

Now that I think about it, maybe Happy isn't the superficial second cousin after all? 

Maybe Happy is the wise grandma who has experienced a whole bunch of life with all of its ups and downs and yet still bakes cookies, and sings songs, and takes time to lean down and whisper in your ear...

Now, you know, dear, I recommend having a little fun....

Have a blessed 2017, friends! 

May we all be happy. 

These people and pups bring me a whole lot of happy.
More of this, 2017. More of this.
XO

How's it going?

Over the summer, I had many kind-hearted friends who wanted to know how I was feeling about our upcoming move. You'd think after answering the same question so many times I would have come up with a simple, rote answer.

I never did.

I was never entirely sure what to say and it often depended on the day, or even the moment. Sometimes excited, sometimes nervous, sometimes weary, sometimes I just wanted to scrap the whole crazy plan.

In the past month that question has been replaced with a new inquiry, "Soooo...how is it going??"

Again, I don't have a perfect elevator speech that can sum it all up in 10 sentences or less.

But the answer I most often come back to, even if only in my own mind, is simply that it has been exactly what I expected it to be. Meaning, it has been a little bit sad, a little bit fun, a little bit exciting, a little bit scary, a little bit lonely, a little bit easy, and even a little bit surprising.

It's been a mixed bag which is exactly what I knew it would be. You don't uproot your whole life and think you can just snap your fingers and instantly have the same continuity, routines, and normalcy you had in the place you lived for almost 25 years.

(A quarter of a century, people.)

So, the thing I just keep telling my thoughtful friends is that it's good, and we are happy, but it will take time.

I'm a great believer in the magic of time because I've seen it work miracles over and over again in my own life and in the lives of others. Things you thought would never be resolved, never heal, never change, never improve, and never grow- suddenly do.

But it's never 'suddenly', really. It might feel that way. Or it might look that way from the outside. But usually that miraculous turn of events is really the long awaited reward that comes from days, weeks, months, or years of waiting, praying, and never giving up hope.

He has made everything beautiful in its time... ~Ecclesiastes 3:11

If you know me, you know that the fall, and especially October, can make me a little melancholy so forgive me for a second for conjuring up a rather unhappy memory to make a point. I'll try to swing it around at the end and give it a happy flourish to close it out.

(That's kind of my signature move).

Anyway, when I was in grief counseling after the loss of our babies, I remember saying to my counselor, "I know I'm going to find my way through this somehow. I know I won't always be this sad. I really do feel confident of that. I just want to know when. How long? Give me a date and then I can circle that day in red on my calendar and just hold on until then."

As good as my counselor was, she never could give me that date.

And, of course, it wasn't a specific day, or moment, it was just a slow, quiet unfolding until you realize you are no longer clenching your fists trying to fight your way back to life. You look down to find your hands are open again, ready to receive whatever bounty the day has to bring you. Whether it be joy, or laughter, or even possibly pain again, you are no longer afraid.

So, the point is, I know what it is to wait.

What I'm getting better at is what to do in the waiting.

Yesterday, I took a leap I didn't think I would make quite this soon. I met with the principal of a small, Christian preschool/primary school about becoming one of their regular substitute teachers. I've always made it clear that I really only like "pretend subbing" and by that I mean I am only interested in substitute teaching at one small school where I can actually get to know the kids and teachers. That was the blessing I had in subbing at my daughter's school in our old neighborhood, and I knew I'd need to find a similar arrangement if I were ever going to venture into subbing in our new home.

And even though the sloth in me wonders why on earth I am not going to continue to just bask in my long, quiet days at home, the voice in my soul is telling me that level of isolation is not ultimately doing me any favors.

I mean, preschoolers, my friends! A tiny school full of babies with no one older than the fourth grade! It's like a dream come true. And the lovely thing is, it's a blessing for them, too. A small school like that has difficulty attracting substitute teachers and yet their teachers get sick and need vacations, too. They were all so delighted I was really interested in coming on board. I swear they all kept looking at me like I might be a mirage.

Sometimes waiting means taking time to rest and heal and be quiet. But other times of waiting require us to be patiently active. We start moving toward those things that allow us to use our gifts and talents, knowing that you never know where and when you might find what it is you are looking for.

So, I look forward to meeting my new young friends and in the meantime will continue to relish the luxury of my quiet days at home.

I've always been a big believer that the "sacred is in the ordinary" which is why I tend to be pretty content with a life that borders on some reality TV version of Groundhog Day. 

Sidebar: (Oh my stars. My life would be the most boring reality TV show EVER. Wouldn't you love to have watched me type this blog post for the past hour? Riveting.) 

But given my inordinate love for the ordinary and everyday, I was pretty happy to come across this quote by Henry Ward Beecher to back me up:

The art of being happy lies in the power

of extracting happiness from common things.

~Henry Ward Beecher

Thank you, Reverend Beecher. I will continue to do just that. 

Just a picture I snapped after leaving Annie's horseback riding lessons.
The fog had settled in on the hills and all you could see was pasture land, trees,
hills and sky.
I suddenly felt very grateful to live in a place where horses and open spaces are
a part of our everyday.
..."extracting happiness from common things."
Amen