Happiness is...

Had a long overdue lunch with one of my dearest friends today.  The kind of friend where even though it's been entirely too long that you've seen them, the greeting hug is so tight and genuine it takes you through a "friendship life flashing before your eyes moment by moment" montage, and you pick right up where you left off.  Over sandwiches, we talked about our kids (8 between us), our lives (we're getting old, we realized), schools (parochial or public), running (it's a sanity requirement), the merits of organic vs. conventional (expensive but necessary for the Dirty Dozen) and husbands (Lord knows they try and, God bless 'em, most times, they do "get it").  We talked about our faith and our desire to have our children know God, love Him and trust Him in the most difficult of times.  And, I got a lesson in prayer - one that was much needed and provided a 180 degree turn from my current prayer methodology ("Thy will be done...").

I walked away from that lunch with such a feeling of joy and happiness for my friend - she was simply glowing with happiness and an inner peace and calm that was palpable.  And it's happiness that's much deserved.  I texted her afterwards, letting her know how happy I was that she was happy and she replied in kind to me ('cause that's how we roll - haha!).

Her reply took me aback - me?  happy??  Really happy??  And I let the word settle over me:  Happy.

It hasn't been the easiest year emotionally for me.  Those of you who know me best know that I have struggled in the past with depression.  Throw in sleepless nights, a not-so-rewarding-day job and a complete life upheaval for our family with post-partum hormones, and it doesn't exactly make a cocktail for emotional stability.  The past few months were ones definitely inside the belly of the whale (see Jonah - my absolute FAV).  I cried a lot, slept some and tried to get out every once and awhile by myself for a quick run.  I survived on coffee and granola bars grabbed from the pantry in the middle of the night.  Only my hubby really knew the true depth of the depression, and he tried his best to help me in any way that he could.  I listened to Joyce, highlighted in my Bible, prayed and cried, and tried to get up every morning and put on The Happy Face so that no one would see just how dark it was on the inside.

And then, exhausted with it all, I just stopped.  I thought I was giving up.  My mantra became, "Thy will be done."  Running late to work?  Thy will be done.  Going into a meeting to face the firing squad of angry management? Thy will be done.  Girls not wanting to go to bed, and hubby taking them to bed with us, negating The Routine?  Thy will be done.  All the kids sick and me up with them all night before a big presentation at work?  Thy will be done.  Interviewing for a new job?  Thy will be done.  Funny thing about that prayer...I thought I was giving up:  Meh.  What do I care?  Whatever.  But to God, I had stopped thrashing and fighting and started to cast my cares - exactly what He had wanted me to do all along.  Silly me.

Slowly and deliberately, with each Thy will be done, the water that I was trying so hard to keep my head above in that well just bouyed me closer and closer to the top.  I learned that floating was better.  (A lesson that, ironically enough, my mother first taught me with the printed gift of this poem.)  Floating...casting cares...trusting God to handle it when I simply couldn't.  And, with each care that I cast, He provided.  Exponentially.  (I should have paid more attention to my previous post on Loaves & Fishes, eh?) 

I realized today that I'm really happy.  Not happy in a WOWSA-THIS-IS-THE-BEST-DAY-EVVVVEERRR-I'M-THE-KING-OF-THE-WOOOORRRLLLDDD!! happy.  Nope.  Happy in the sense that I know that there are always going to be tough times ahead.  There are always going to be struggles - some small, some monumental.  But, I know that He loves me.  He holds me.  And Satan is not going to steal that from me anymore.  (Fathead! - as Joyce says - which totally cracks me up...I digress...) 

What I'm saying is that, yes, today was an awesome day!  I am in a new job, everyone is healthy, hubby and I are making exciting plans for our family's future (no, we aren't having more kids) and I have some pretty cool things to look forward to in the next couple of months.  But, if I took all those big things away, I think I'd still be happy, because I now get that regardless of what happens - big or small - God has my back.

So, what really makes me happy?  What truly brings me joy?  What makes me smile? 

Nighttime porch chats at the end of the day with my hubby...The Monkey's wild hair in the morning...The Munchkin's crazy giggle when being chased by her daddy...The Lamb's scrunched up nose when she gets confused...The Bug's wide-eyed grin when he sees me when he wakes up or when I come home...The Dude's impromptu under-the-chin snuggle...a random-fact text from a miles-away friend...coffee chats with my best friend...Starbucks triple venti non fat no foam upside down caramel macchiatto...the crazy chaos that ensues with our girls when daddy announces, "It's doughnut day!!!!"...seeing my brother really smile after years of faking it...showtunes - LOTS and LOTS of showtunes...The Bear-dog sleeping with his head under our bed and only seeing a torso with a wagging tail on the floor when walking into the bedroom...the sound of stomping feet running up and down stairs and slamming doors...lime and salt popcorn followed by Reese's peanut butter cups...laughing until my stomach hurts with my extended family over desserts after Christmas dinner...getting into my car to unexpectedly find it detailed and full of gas...arguing with my Dad over The Tray and The Cup...the sun in my eyes on an early morning run...seeing my friends old and new on Facebook and being able to keep in touch with minimal effort...hearing my husband snore...daily calls with my mom to analyze "Maury" and take bets on whether or not "he IS (NOT) the father!!"...

Little things, friends.  The little things add up to the big things.  Like Snoopy said, Happiness is a warm blanket.

Thank you, Lord.  Thank you for my warm blankets...and thank you, H, for seeing it in me, too.
 
Stay tuned and much love,

1 Peter 5:7

⁷Casting the ^[a]whole of your care [all your anxieties, all your worries, all your concerns, ^[b]once and for all] on Him, for He cares for you affectionately and cares about you ^[c]watchfully.

Simon (Peter) Says...

Hubby:  "It's been CAR-A-ZY the past few weeks."
Me:  "That's the understatement of the year."

A few weeks ago, Joyce was preaching about stretching your faith.  I was listening, but only peripherally, while I attempted to change squirmy babies' diapers in the dark.  But, thankfully, she started saying something that caught my ear.  She started talking about being tired.  I immediately looked up, quickly finished changing the diaper, and sent The Dude crawling off with his sleeper unbuttoned behind him.

She was talking about Simon Peter, and the third time Jesus revealed Himself after the crucifiction.  Her context was about believing and having faith to push through, even when you're exhausted and have (what you believe) given it your all.  Joyce framed it in a way, though, that as a mother, resonated with me.

So here is Simon Peter and some of the other disciples.  They've been out on a boat all night long, fishing (picture "Deadliest Catch" here) and have caught nothing.  Nada.  Zilch.  So, in the early dawn, they pull back into shore and proceed to put away the nets, wash down the decks and everyone is basically doing the fist-clasp-half-man-hug goodbye when Jesus appears and says, "Go back out and go fishing.  Now."

If I had been on that boat, I know I probably would have not cared one lick that this was Jesus in front of me at that point.  I would have been dead on my feet (forget His glorious ressurection from the actual dead), defeated and just ready to go home, crawl in bed and sleep.  And, if I'm going to be perfectly honest, I probably would have been indignant - "Are you kidding me, Jesus??  You DO realize that we were out ALL NIGHT LONG and we caught nothing.  NOTHING!!  And we sail in, finally get eeevvvverrrryyything cleaned and put away and you want me to drag it allll out again, set evvvveerryyything up and go out to a place we know there is nothing?!  NOW???  Whatever, dude.  I'm heading home and getting some sleep."

Ah, yes.  Such is the joyful, open spirit of the mother (note sarcasm here).  The joy of motherhood.  It's hard to feel like it's a joy when you're in the middle of it all, and it is seemingly nothing but the proverbial fishing for nothing most days and nights.  Well, what seems to be nothing, anyway.

But, back to the story.  It's what happens next that is so fabulous about this story to me:
Simon Peter and his crew head back out, at His command.  And, they catch fish.  More fish than they can possibly manage.  The Bible says that they couldn't even pull up their darn nets because they were so heavy with fish.  Wow.  Just wow.

So, here I am.  Mom, wife, employee, daughter, sister, granddaughter, friend, niece, cousin, etc.  Fixer of all ills, wiper of many liquids, stretcher of the time/space continuum.  And, most days, I'm exhausted.  Bone tired.  Dead on my feet.  But, that's what motherhood and this stage of my life is about.  I get it. 

And, the kick-in-the-crotch-fantastic part about it?  (as revealed to me in this story?)

All of these times that I do go out and work myself silly, come back with what I believe to be nothing, and then am asked to turn right around and do it all over again just when I think I've come by a break? 

And, I obey, and DO go back out, despite my exhaustion and frustration? 

Well, that's when those beautiful nets pull up more than I can possibly handle:  the first-spoken-non-prompted "Thank yous" and "I love yous"...the arms thrown around your waist that seemingly appear out of nowhere...the stolen glimpses of sisters and brothers caring, laughing and loving one another.  Those things - they are my fish. 

I just have to keep reminding myself that, when I'm stretched to the limit and I'm asked to go out and do it all over again, it might indeed be a night of fruitless fishing, but the next time, my nets will be full.  And that, friends, is what makes it all worth it.

Stay tuned and much love,



John 23:1-6 ~ 
   ¹AFTER THIS, Jesus let Himself be seen and revealed [Himself] again to the disciples, at the Sea of Tiberias. And He did it in this way:
    ²There were together Simon Peter, and Thomas, called the Twin, and Nathanael from Cana of Galilee, also the sons of Zebedee, and two others of His disciples.
    ³Simon Peter said to them, I am going fishing! They said to him, And we are coming with you! So they went out and got into the boat, and throughout that night they caught nothing.
    ⁴Morning was already breaking when Jesus came to the beach and stood there. However, the disciples did not know that it was Jesus.
    ⁵So Jesus said to them, ^[a]Boys (children), you do not have any meat (fish), do you? [Have you caught anything to eat along with your bread?] They answered Him, No!
    ⁶And He said to them, Cast the net on the right side of the boat and you will find [some]. So they cast the net, and now they were not able to haul it in for such a big catch (mass, quantity) of fish [was in it].