a Hurricane Needs to be Held

Like a little hurricane, Silas rages and fits around the house.  He becomes destructive, wreckless, distraught, emotional, and angry.

Then, mid-tantrum, in the eye of the storm there will be this innocent stillness about him.  A moment of recognizing un-met need.  

Silas will stop and whimper:

"Mommy, I need a snuggle."

What looked like fury, was actually fear. Even when all my ugliness is evident, am I loved?  Accepted?  Can I still return to safe arms?  

Would you believe, that at 28 years of age, I'm still a 2 year old?  

My emotions rage, my quick temper flares, my anger bashes against others, and my frustrations blow others away.  

But, If I stop and just look at what is really wrong, if I am just honest with myself I would see that: I just need a snuggle. An internal one.

Unconditional reassurance, love, and acceptance.

To be able to sigh deeply, as Silas does, and rest in bigger arms.

Good thing there is some One who is able to hold this hurricane and calm the storm raging in me.

On Being an Adult

Ever get those moments when you just cannot believe that you, yes you, are now an adult?  Maybe that sounds dumb, coming from an almost 30 year old.  But somehow I feel like asking, "when did this happen?"  Two little 'uns to be responsible for?  Bills to pay?  The fridge to fill, the meals to make, the shampoo to buy, the birthdays to plan for...this is my house?  These are my kids?  

I was driving along tonight, by myself (which is somewhat miraculous) and I had this moment of feeling like a teenager again.  Music loud, speed accelerating, late at night, like I didn't have a curfew (cause you know, the kids get up at 6 so I really should go to bed early)... a song from my high school years came on and I got sentimental.  Sentimental?  About high-school?  

What?

All of a sudden having all possibility before me and no real responsibilities underneath me sounds pretty, okay REALLY, good.  Not that I feel trapped or don't like my life, but it just occurred to me that I cannot believe that this is what life looks like on this side of the fence.  Wasn't I just on the other side?  Was that not just a moment ago?  A breath?  A blink?  Oh wait, it's been 10 years.  And everything, I mean EVERYTHING is different.  I'm not just heading off to college, meeting the man of my dreams, beginning a career and having international adventures (and sleeping in on weekends), I'm in fact married, with a house, with children, with a career...  But I think the same!  I act the same!  I've hardly changed, or so I think.  I even own the same sweatpants with 'field hockey' written on the butt.  If I'm really 10 years older, why don't I feel 10 years older?  Should I have accomplished more?  What do I mean by more?

I hear my internal thoughts and sometimes cannot believe I'm the one thinking them, "she's wearing that to school?  That 'kid' is old enough to do_____?  I mean, really?"  "She was born after the year 2000?"  

I got a phone call the other day too and it sounded like this:
"Hi, ummm, are you Silas' Mom?"
[pause]
"huh?"
"Are you Silas' Mom? I'm calling from the community centre.... blah blah blah"
[pause, this is so weird]

I am no longer 'Shannon' I am Mrs. Brink and Silas' Mom.
Weird. 

Anyone else have weird moments of not believing it's really you that's an adult?  Isn't it weird that you choose to go to bed early?  That you need to have coffee in the morning?  That you enjoy just sitting and talking to other adults?  That sleeping in is no longer an option?  Is anyone else experiencing this?  Why did I think I would be a young adult forever?  Shouldn't I have appreciated sleeping more?  Or staying up late?  Or going wherever I wanted to go, whenever I wanted to go there- more?

Note to younger self: enjoy more, play more, relax more, be here NOW and don't try and be somewhere else and someone older.  There is more than enough time for that.

(It's clearly 2 weeks until my birthday because I'm already needing to psych myself up to being another year older).  

Financial Formula

I wrote a post recently about being intentional and my mind has been buzzing around thinking of ways to be more thought-out, more researched, more intentional about my choices and decisions.  One area that needs a serious over-haul is the way that I spend money.  We have made some wise choices along the way and wouldn't consider ourselves excessive spenders by any means, but there is definitely fine tuning that needs to happen.  I am not good at waiting.  I hate researching.  I am a compulsive buyer. I don't like price comparing.  I don't like going from store to store to find the best deal.  However, with us thinking about how I could work less, and with hubs being in ministry, pennies need to be a little more pinched. 

So I've been thinking of a formula of sorts to help me process expenditures.  Not only do I want to consider how to save money, but I want to be more creative about how I go about buying things that our family needs.  I'm not saying I'll apply this formula every time (because I am an efficiency person and thinking for longer than 10 seconds about a decision is rarely sustainable for me).  But I'll try.  For awhile.  And tell you how it goes.

I'm going to ask myself these questions before I race off to buy something, or pick it off the shelf, or even look at all:
1. Is this really something we need? (I know, obvious, but still a good question).
2. Is there something else we already own that could work for this purpose? [Our TV shelf became our dining room 'hutch' with some re-purposing]. 
3. Could I make it?[Been thinking about making this to save money]    
4. Could I buy this used or borrow it? [I was at Scoop & Save today, an amazing cake decorating store and found out that you can rent cake pans for 2 bucks a day!  Genius!  This inspired my 'borrow it' point.  You just never know what you can borrow!]
5. If I can't avoid buying it and can't find it used, where could I buy it locally?  Or even better, from more ethical places?  [I went to Ten Thousand Villages today and was floored by the incredible amount of interesting, unique, and fair trade gifts there.  If I'm gonna buy someone a gift, why not from there?]

What are your great money saving tips?

Being Intentional

I'm approaching 28 [insert 'eeeek' here] and, I've had a few 'aha' moments along the way.  One more recent life lesson is about balancing commitments, time management, rest, goal setting, and family.  What is it?  

Few things in life happen by accident.  

I don't mean things that happen to us, cause in that department I believe in a higher power and His sovereignty.  I mean related to personal accomplishments, disciplines, habits, growth and relationships. Maybe it's obvious to some, but for me, I didn't realize how many things need to be so very intentional.  

I can't just stumble into good health and eating habits.  
I can't just relax every evening and kick back and expect to accomplish lofty goals.  
I can't just expect relationships to develop or heal if there is no time or energy or commitment made to them. 
Rest time?  Doesn't happen unless we schedule it.  
Time together as a couple?  Won't take place spontaneously- needs to be carved out.  

All of these things take time and if I don't make time for them, extra time doesn't just come around.

So.  To be 'intentional' Jason and I have started some strategies since early 2012 that are really paying off:

1. Weekly Meetings
This will sound geeky, and it kinda is.  But every Sunday night Jason and I convene over hot drinks, snacks and our computers.  We chat about what's ahead for the week and plan our weekday evenings now that the kids are both in bed at 8.  What nights does one of us want to get some exercise?  What night should we plan a social activity   What are our commitments?   We love this time and keep 'business items' on our weekly agenda list so that when things come up during the week that we don't get time to discuss in full detail, we bring them up at our meeting.  Helps us stay on the same page and more organized.

2.  Rest Day
Things push in on us all the time.  We constantly have to say no to opportunities that we want to take because things always take up more time than we think they will.  That being said, we try try try to keep one day a week that we can rest.  What does this mean for us?  Jason takes the kids for part of the morning so that I can go away and do what I want to do, then we swap.  When kids are napping we get to have a nice lunch together and hang out, then we spend the rest of the day (often) with just the kids and us.  No, this doesn't always happen.  No, we sometimes have this time infringed on.  But, we keep carving this time back out again and are always very glad we made room for rest.

3. Monthly Themes
This is a new one.  We always have areas that we want to grow in, research more about, learn more about, and progress in.  However, it's hard to just carve out an evening here or there when so many other things are also demanding our time.  

For example: finances.  The way we budget and spend needs constant tweeking, analyzing, and evaluating.  Or organization- how we run our home and our responsibilities- things could always be better organized.  Or schooling: how can we plan for Silas' schooling, what could we already be teaching him etc.  

We've decided to have monthly themes for the next little while.  We want to have a month where we focus on finances, on schooling for Silas (and us), a month where we think about ways that we could make things run better in our home (ie. find a good grocery shopping app!), and a month where we research better places to buy local meats, veggies and learn more about how we could adjust our nutrition.  I'm super excited about our monthly themes and hope that it will help us focus, and set goals in each of these areas for the rest of the year.

4. Devotions
This is a tough one.  We are not great at carving out time to do devotions as a family (nor individually).  But we are working on it.  One thing we started to do that is inspired by Jason's Mom and Dad, is to start the habit of reading a Bible story after dinner.  We're impressed (and scared) by how much Silas pays attention and retains things we tell him or experiences we have together as a family.  This has pushed us to really be intentional about speaking scripture with Silas and sharing stories from the Bible.  We're excited to see how this has already changed our mealtimes.  We love having those few extra moments to really hear from Silas and share with him about some important God-lessons.

5. Reflection
This is one for me in particular.  There are a lot of areas I need to grow in personally.  I feel like I'm hitting some kind of mid-life time where I need to really deal with some baggage I'm carrying from the past and press on towards some emotional and spiritual maturity.  Not sure yet what this will look like but I am seriously considering taking some time away for counseling, having a retreat day once a year and have pursued mentorship where I can focus on personal growth.  I also want to be more intentional about choosing good books to read, asking myself some hard questions and being more ready to hear from God about things I need to change.  I'm taking a class at our women's group about wholeness (spiritually, emotionally, physically) and am very excited about some of the things I'm learning there.  Stay posted on this one...

Lastly:
6.  Using what I have
I realize that some of the things I spend money on are quite silly and really, I have the means to do more at home than I realize.  Case in point: I have an espresso machine.  It was generously given to me at my birthday a number of years back (organized by my lovely husband) but I was rarely using it.  Coffee out was starting to add up and I realize I need to cut back.  SO two helpful friends helped show me how to use some of the functions and I'm now really excited about making coffee at home more often!  There are many things like this in my life...I often choose the easy or convenient way when I need to just find a way to make things work that I already have.  We'll see what other ways I find to cut back on spending and do more from home.

Who knew being intentional could be so rewarding and exciting!  I read a book recently too that helped me think more practically about these kinds of things: "the Happiness Project."  Worthwhile read.  I don't agree with some of her basis for things, nor do I agree that her formula will truly satisfy a person but there are a lot of good tips she has on this topic of being more intentional.  

Fall-ing in Love Again

There's something about the fall that makes me appreciate our neighborhood even more than usual.  Maybe it's the winding trails that make running or biking tantamount to life changing.

Maybe it's the silhouette of the mountains, hovering over the rooftops.

Maybe it's the large, mature trees draping over the roadways.

Maybe it's the crunch of leaves under my feet.

Maybe it's the sight of steaming coffee mugs, snuggly scarves, or boots that contribute to my happiness.

Maybe it's the school bell and the sound of children playing that I hear from my back patio, or the coming out of fall decorations from my storage space, or the smell of creamy pumpkin handsoap from b&b works...

or maybe it's the fall, dairy free baking that I get to do in my new kitchen (PTL).

Maybe it's our community events that I look forward to every year like the pumpkin patch, the cranberry festival, our women's weekly breakaway or the kidswap.

Whatever it is- I welcome fall.  You know- the sunny, cool air, cozy days kind of fall.  

Thank you Vancouver for making this fall, yet again, one of my favourite times of year.

Miracle

Rewind a month ago.  There was something terribly wrong in my family.  Silas and I were not getting along at all.  I found myself getting so angry and impatient with him all the time.

I was often disciplining out of anger and felt so easily frustrated.  I was often bitter and mean.

Simultaneously, Silas was not only testing boundaries with me constantly, but it was almost like he disdained me.  He was disrespectful, defiant, and rude.  We were in Ontario visiting family and I found myself often crying about our relationship.  I told Jason that I thought I was losing Silas.  Maybe that sounds extreme, but a real fear was growing inside of me, "What am I doing wrong?  Where will this child end up if this is our relationship?  What foundations is my attitude laying for our future?" I know he's 2 but there was some serious walls that I felt like we had between us.  I even found myself saying to Jason that I had a hard time even liking Silas at all.

It was bad.

Then, Silas started over and over saying "I don't like Mommy."  This broke my heart.  He's 2 but he certainly understands what that means.  I really began crying out to God.  Oh, I had prayed for us but it was more like a "Help God, what do I do?  Give me wisdom!"  sort of prayer.

Then a miracle happened.

One day coming back from a family outing, Silas fell asleep in Oma and Opa's van just before coming home. I decided to carry him into the house but halfway inside Silas seemed really cranky so I just sat in the porch swing with him.  

I was just swinging, and holding him, and cuddling him and was amazed to see that he fell asleep.  And a wave of emotion poured through me.  I began crying over our relationship and all it's fractures.  Welling up inside of me was an overwhelming urge that in this special moment, I needed to pray for him, OVER him, and pray for us.

So I sat there.  I rocked him for over an hour and wept over him, prayed out loud for him, sang to him, and spoke scripture to him.  I felt like I needed to reassure Silas of my love for him and my acceptance of him.  I cried out to God and just asked that He break down whatever spiritual divide or emotional divide was between Silas and I.  I prayed for more patience, for more affection, for more graciousness with Silas.  I prayed that God would restore Silas to me.  And I prayed that God would loose in me an ability to speak of God's love to him.

The time holding Silas was so sweet and precious.  Rarely could I get Silas to let me hug him for more than 5 seconds before this time.

And you know, God answered my prayers.  Immediately, unbelievably, and in such a wonderfully profound way- God answered.  Ever since that time it's like the walls have fallen down.  I find myself understanding Silas better, being more able to reassure and encourage him, and more able to discipline him in a loving way. I find him responding to me, and there is an easy flow of affection between us- more than ever before.  Silas just yesterday was saying "I love you Mommy, you're special," and I am so thankful.  So grateful for this incredible answer to prayer.  

Thank God for his grace in this journey of parenthood.

Renos Continued

9 weeks and counting.  

No, I'm not pregnant.  That's how long it's been since I've had a sink, a dishwasher, cooking supplies, a family room, and a kitchen.  Unexpected kitchen leaks are not my cup of tea (or so I've found out).  

I think the 'idea' of making one's house better is great when you can prepare for it, plan it, do it in bite sized bits, and have some control over it.  However, due to insurance taking forever with their paperwork and other such delays, we are still yet without a kitchen [awaiting counters, plumbing, and we need to paint the lower cabinets].  

I've realized that my environment in chaos is the main part of this whole thing that is stressful.  I don't mind people in and out (it breaks up the day).  

I don't mind the cacophony of noises (what's more noise when I have two boys?)  I don't even mind, in some ways, the uncertainty of when the final end will be.  What I DO mind, and what has caused me the most angst, tears, and internal restlessness is the invasion of all that was in those two rooms into the rest of my home.

What do I mean? 

canning jars in my dresser drawers

toy bins in my fire place

glasses and plates on the landing halfway up my stairs

cookbooks in my bedside table

coffee table in our bedroom

and large intrusive pieces of furniture taking up desperately needed floor space for two active boys

Yuck.  Hurl.  I am a hater of clutter and chaos.

However, today, OH JOY today I said "enough is enough."  The room beside our kitchen that is essentially our family room/play room had become a storage room of uninstalled cabinets, our dishwasher and other such things.  Well, it was largely cleared out last night and so began a domino effect of greater and greater happiness.

I hadn't intended on doing it but as I started putting things back into the kitchen/family room it created such incredible pleasure that I kept going... I assembled ikea lamps, I put up newly hemmed curtains, I uncovered couches, rearranged toys and before I knew it I was purging and organizing and...

Dang.  It felt good.

For the remainder of the day, my finally toy-less living room (which had become our living space these last months) and my almost finished kitchen/family room kept capturing my eye.  I was floating around the house.  "Look how great those curtains look?!  Look how great that new rug looks in our living room!  Look!"

I know, I know.  It's just a room, with things in their intended places.  What's the big deal right?  Well, the joy it brought me just to see some chaos lifted made it pretty clear that my environment affects me.  It almost made me understand why people do renovations for fun.  

Almost.  

Not quite.

Let's just say, I'll be VERY appreciative of the final product. 

(Hopefully in 1 more week, please God, PLEASE)

Queen of Woe

Polite conversation often begins with questions like, “how are you doing?” and “how has your summer been?”  The average person would say “great” or “not bad.” 

I’m not the average person. 

My response is often filled with the list of all that could have or did go wrong.  This summer is a perfect example of a perfect storm.  The endless list continues to grow of why it’s been so hard, so stressful, so awful, so frustrating, so angst ridden and so depleting. 

I might have good reasons to complain.  After all, not everyone has to deal with chronic insomnia, a kitchen torn apart for more than 6 weeks, two very active and transitioning baby boys, and jam packed trips that didn’t go very well.

Here’s the thing: my own negativity is killing me and my relationships.

I’m royally sick of my complaining, my whining, my moaning and groaning.  I’m tired of my circumstances dictating my joy.  It seems to take so little for me to think that ‘today’ will be a disaster, a failure, another ‘worst case scenario.’  This Queen of woe has been catastrophizing for too long.  

So now what?  I’ve confessed.  I’m aware.  I am ready for change.  But how do I go from “look there’s one cloud in the sky it’s going to rain,” to “what a beautiful sunny day“[?] 

I’m sure it begins with gratitude.  I’m sure it begins with praise and thanksgiving.  I’m sure it begins with changing my negative thought processes.  But I’m awfully certain that I cannot change alone.  I need help daily, incrementally, to brick by brick remove this barrier to joy.

The weird thing is that I don’t remember always being this way.  Sure I’ve always been a bit of a worrier and am easily dramatic and prone to riding the waves of my emotions.  But I don’t remember always being so negative.  How did I get this way? 

Maybe it’s been the continuous supply of testing circumstances.  Maybe it’s been my health crises after health crises.  Maybe it’s been this journey into the jungles of motherhood.  No matter where or how this started, I am certain that I cannot continue on my current trajectory.  Even if there are good reasons to be on this path, I don't have good reasons to remain on it.

My relationship with my son is suffering, my heart is growing bitter and cold, and whatever God’s good plans for me are, I am sure that they are not this way.

 I am ready for joy.  To choose it.  To fight for it.  To wrestle with my thoughts and emotions.  To claim truth.  To see blessing.  

Clay

Remember when a few months back I said I was cleaning out my closets?  I was planning to go through old writings and fine tune them to post on this blog.  Did that happen?  Nope.  But that's okay, I'm starting now. I guess spring cleaning has become late summer cleaning.   

Here's something I wrote back in 2009.  I'll call this a "devotional writing."  They're just my reflections, my thoughts, my ramblings about God and me and the stuff in the middle.  

Critique all you want but I hope you'll be encouraged:

Is the value of most things in their utility?  The canyons and cliffs, the waterways and bright stars, do I appreciate their utility or their beauty?  

Is food [its flavor, the delight of the communion its consumption provides, its various ways of preparation and presentation] worthwhile only in is far as it is useful for my body?  No.  

But yet, that seems to be how I approach my life and God.  Do I value being ‘used by God’ more than my relationship with God himself?  Or do I truly believe that what I am able to accomplish is how my value is measured?  Oh how I need the value of my life to be redeemed from the dust of utility and instead be caught up daily in the love of Christ.

  It is Him alone who can transform my brokenness into wholeness, and it is His love alone that can rescue me from the slavery of worshiping this productivity idol.

I was reading in Isaiah 64 about how my righteous deeds are nothing but filthy rags before God anyways, and that I am like the autumn leaves, withering and falling, blown away in the wind.  I also read the well known line that, “I am the clay and you are the potter, I am formed by your hand” and again was reminded that there is little I can do for God.  

How silly of me to think that this life is about my performance.  Why do I measure the success of each day by productivity, or accomplishment?  

I was overwhelmed again by the knowledge of the great cavernous depth of my need for God’s grace.  I am not righteous, I am needy.  I am treacherous and ungodly.  I am a sinner: broken, bleeding, cracked and useless. I am that clay: a lump of hardened, dried, helpless, useless dirt.  

I dream of being a bowl to hold fruit or be a vase and hold flowers.  But the one thing, my perhaps only real accomplishment in this life might be just to hold still and surrender to the warmth of my maker’s hands. 

To remain, on that wheel, while he smoothes my rough edges and works in the oil of 
His love.  

Perhaps the point isn’t even what ‘function’ I will be able to perform after He works on me again.  Perhaps it is simply that He is making me into something beautiful so that His artistry can be revealed.  

After all, isn’t that what glorified really means?  That one day I will reflect the beauty of His redemption, His perfect work, His making this pile of clay into something from nothing? 

And so I will again invite His tender, firm hands upon me, "would You smooth out my anxieties and fears and saturate my bitter, envious, cracked self with the oil of Your love?  Help me let go of my desire to be functional and useful God, I just want to be loved and to reflect your love."

At the Bottom of the Sea

You know those mirrors that they have in hotels for 'make-up application' that show the most intimate details of ones' face?
Well, I've had many mirrors lately [small children, health issues, surprise kitchen demolition, trials, difficulties etc] revealing my thoughts, attitudes and beliefs and was becoming rather discouraged at what I saw.

I starting sinking deeper and deeper into frustration and despair over my nasty traits.  The list was growing ever longer the more closely I examined myself:  I'm easily angered, bitter, frustrated, self-serving, controlling, apathetic, entitled, selfish, ungrateful, negative... I thought that as a Christian I would be better at all these things?  [Self talk: "How disappointing, how discouraging, how defeating"]...but then I had a wake up call last night:

Grace.

Sweet grace.

I didn't expect to find grace.   Having seen and listed my fault-list, I expected God's discipline or the voice of my religion-idol banging harsh words against me, "try harder, be better, look at all these Christians at this conference doing so much 'better' work and here you are bawling on the bathroom floor because your kids aren't napping...buck up!"  Instead I was met with sweet grace.

Huh?

Looking hard at my own reflection and seeing how far I am from 'the mark' of perfection does nothing to inspire change.  My condition, as it always has been is that I am hopeless, utterly helpless, completely incapable of saving myself.  I cannot change my filthy habits except for the grace of Christ poured out.  I am awed and overwhelmed again by the miracle of what God has done for me through Christ.  

When Christ came he did the impossible: he brought sight to the blind, made the lame walk, healed the leper...  what part of any of their healings could they take credit for?  

Nothing.

It was all Christ's work.  They were helpless, desperately unable, completely inadequate to earn for themselves wholeness.  It is the same for my sinful habits and tendencies.

Why have I started to think again that any part of this Christian life is of myself?  I cannot be more patient, more caring, more compassionate, more loving, more kind, more 'whole' apart from Christ. NOR does my salvation depend on the accomplishment of being more like Christ.  In fact, by focusing on my sinfulness I have been actually proud.  It is pride that says, "I am irredeemable" or that, "I'm never going to see any changes in my life" or "God can't use me because I habitually fail."  Aha!  But that is pride, disbelief and a lack of faith:

How can I possibly say of the one and only God, who breathed life in my womb where there was none, that He is unable to bring life in the dead and ugly areas of my life?  How dare I say that God cannot change me or use me even in my sorry state?  Do not be fooled Shannon, God WILL accomplish the work He started in you.  Not for you, or by you, but for HIM and by HIM.    

O Grace. Amazing grace.

Grace is like the ocean waters.  It doesn't matter if I'm the gravest sinner at the deepest part of the ocean floor - His Grace floods over and reaches down to cover even the darkest, loneliest, deepest part at the bottom of the sea.  No righteous act can earn His grace, and no grave sin can change what His grace is capable of doing in each of us.  I just need to receive this gift and marvel at it.  Every. Day. 

I received salvation from death when I first accepted Christ years ago...but I am learning again that every day the gospel saves me.

May this grace and this love inspire true change as I move forward in reassurance that I am indeed acceptable, and indeed righteous but ONLY because of the gift of Christ.

"I spilled the blueberries"

"I spilled the blueberries."  This phrase has come to haunt me over the past week.  

The scene: 

I had attempted to grocery shop with two little boys.  It was mostly going well although it was requiring an enormous amount of energy to keep them entertained, behaved, and prevent them from de-shelving everything (while simultaneously navigating a grocery store that I hate).

However, mid-shop I needed to take Silas to the potty.  Can someone please tell me how one is supposed to hold a wiggly, acrobatic 7 month old who can reach further than seems humanly possible and is keen on sucking on every surface WHILE stripping a toddler of their clothes, lifting them onto the potty and then doing that whole thing again in reverse?

How?
My options were 1. leave Toby in the grocery cart outside of the bathroom (Obviously this would be neglectful and dangerous so that wasn't going to work) 2. take the cart into the bathroom (they wouldn't let me nor would it fit) 3. put Toby on the floor in the bathroom stall (gross, gross, gross) or 4. grunt, groan, complain and exclaim as I tried to both hold Toby and help Silas.

Anyways.  

The shop continued with Silas getting restless and aggressive with Toby so he ended up walking at his toddler -5km/hr pace making me ever so frustrated.  By the time I had paid and finally loaded the groceries in bags (I would almost pay to have someone do this for me) I was very ready to be done shopping.

My exhaustion was rising, I had to pee, and both boys needed to get home to be fed and sleep so the scene was worsening by the second.  Just at the exit I realized I couldn't find my keys.  We were in-between doorways and I was in the home stretch and I was rooting through my purse to no avail.

No keys to be seen.  Frustration rising.  Well, I gave Silas the box of blueberries to hold, instructing him to hold onto them very carefully.  I gave him the berries partially to placate him and partially to motivate him to behave. I told him he could have some once we got to the car.  I'm on the floor at this point, almost to the desperate point of dumping my purse out when:

Crash.

All I see are blueberries around me.  Silas is wailing and I just snapped.  I didn't yell and scream, but I was very angry.  I gave Silas a hard time and made him feel bad about him dropping the blueberries.  "Look what you've done.  Now you won't get any blueberries.  I told you to hold them carefully now look what's happened... etc" But I went too far.  Much too far.

Oh, I can justify my actions: "I was exhausted, I was tired, I was pushed to the limit of what I am capable of doing as a person..." But I made him feel ashamed for what was probably an accident.  

Over a week later and Silas still brings this up every time I discipline him.  He'll be in trouble for something and I'll be trying to discipline him, he'll be upset, and then he'll just cry and say,"I dropped the blueberries."

Uh oh.

Can someone please tell me how to raise a rambunctious, boundary-pushing, strong willed, emotional, smart, and incredibly literate boy? I am pushed and pulled and worn thin and rung out each and every day with this boy.  He depletes most of my emotional energy.  One minute he is creative, imaginative, playful, fun, energetic, charming and charismatic making me laugh and wonder at this gift of life.  The next minute (literally the next minute) he is obstinate, deaf to instruction, rude, aggressive, obnoxious, loud, aggressive, controlling and temperamental.  

How am I supposed to be a firm but loving Mother?  How am I supposed to be kind and gracious, compassionate and forgiving while also needing to be firm and provide discipline?  How am I supposed to weather this toddler season without going literally insane?

I don't want to repeat the blueberry incident but I am stretched so often in my abilities to care for this 2 year old, I'm afraid these scenes happen too often. I am often out of wisdom and creative ideas in how to motivate, instruct and inspire obedience.  Oh, by the way I have a baby in the background who may or may not be crying, falling off of furniture and barfing into clean laundry baskets.  Oh, by the way, it hasn't stopped raining for a month. Oh, by the way, I get easily angered, I am trying to maintain a perfectly clean home, I am desperate for control, I try to do this in my own strength, I am incredibly hard on myself, I'm very selfish, I am a horrible sinner and I rarely get a solid 6 hours of sleep a night.  

Okay God.  I need your help.  No, I really really really mean it this time.  

River

I didn't intend to write a post today but re-reading old journals of mine made me want to write.  Some of the prayers I uttered not long ago are still upon my lips.  

"Change me, renew me, revive me, refine me, use me, make me more like Jesus..."  I have started to realize that this journey of motherhood is not a detour off the road  to where I'm going, it is not an accidental path.  It is the very road on which God placed me to answer all my prayers.  

He intended me to be a Mother so that I could learn the very lessons I have been longing to learn.  The question is, now that my prayer is being answered, am I still willing to surrender? Am I willing to do the work?  Be worked upon?  I am finding myself increasingly helpless and dependent.  

Hands up, head down, knees bent I am a toddler in need of discipline and care as I learn to raise my children.  The demands of motherhood are like a river.  I am a stone.  

The river's current flows unrelenting, over and around me, smashing all my rough edges.  I am worn down by it, smoothed over, worked on and banged up by the constant flow.  It never ends.  Its weight and worth are heavy.  I cannot bend, I must break down.  I must submit to it because I am already wholly submersed.  

The old me is being rubbed away so that I can be smooth in His hands.  I want this but I don't.  I want to be more gracious, more compassionate and loving, more patient, more self controlled but the change is painful and slow.  

All the things I want for my heart come by submitting.  I need to stop seeing the process as the enemy.  It's an answer to prayer.  The pain, the inconveniences, the anxieties, the difficulties... scraped knees, bleeding lips, puke on clean laundry, irregular schedules, tantrums, and all that each day brings is God's provision for the very change I long for.  "Being confident of this that He who began a good work in you will carry it out to completion until the day of Christ Jesus."  Philippians 1:6 (my life verse).  Oh that I would embrace the opportunities for growth and change. 

Toby is awake an hour before he 'should' be.  End of blog post.  The river rages another day.  

Groceries

God,
I need patience, when it seems like every little hiccup in our journey out the door derails my emotions
I need your perspective, when forgetting my grocery list halfway to the store becomes an unecessary crisis 
I need your graciousness, when the hum of a toddler whining in the back of the car affects my mood enough to make me rude to strangers
I need your strength, when I'm trying to balance a baby on my hip (prevent him from licking the bathroom stall) while trying to help a toddler onto the potty
I need your sense of humour when the former is a g.o.n.g. show.
I need a reminder of your grace, when I am angry at spilled blueberries on the grocery store floor
I need your forgiveness, when I make my child feel shame for what was just an accident
I need humility, when I realize that the accident was really my fault
I need endurance, when lunch needs to be made, groceries unloaded, babies put to bed...(all before I can have a chance to pee and eat my own lunch)
I need a reminder of your provisions for us, that we have access to food and money to buy it
I need You.  For only in You can I find abundant life in the grocery store, on a Monday morning.

Joy?

Where to begin a post like this?  How to put words to thoughts churning, emotions swirling, the noise of my internal self conversation?  

The naked question I wrestle with, what consumes my heart and leaves my body restless is: "how do I seize joy?"  Not happiness, not ethereal emotion but a deep down, unquenchable, soul affirming, outreach propelling kind of joy. 

I want that kind of joy desperately.  I want fullness of life, abundance, contentment, satiation. I want joy that fills my empty spaces to the point of overflowing.  Peace in the storms of life and in the mundane deserts. 

The days are so repetitive.  

Another morning, another diaper, another walk, I've seen the same 5 km radius around my home a thousand times.  Where, oh WHERE do I find joy here in this place and season of my life?

I was reviewing some old journals and was astonished to see that years ago in a different place, in a different time, before children, I had the same longing for joy.  Three years ago:"But without Your presence in my life, without Your joy and satisfaction, I remain void, empty, and worthless.  Bring me to life God for who else can be to me true joy?  I cannot pretend it, I cannot muster it up (anymore than I can bring day from night, revive myself or breathe life into my own womb)."

Oh. Right.  This nagging question has followed me most of my life.  Joy, where art thou?

I'm saddened that I haven't 'got this' yet but encouraged that God wants me to learn this so much that He keeps patiently teaching me.  God has brought me through some low valleys over the past few years.  In valleys it's natural to seek joy; hard.  But then, when things are 'okay' and 'ho hum' I still find myself here, again.  The question of my life keeps resounding, "Will I, or will I not find my ultimate joy in Christ alone. Here. Now.  Another day.  This day.  Everyday."

So how do I have joy?  Well, I've been presented with a few answers:

1. Wait.  "It's a journey."  I need to wait on God.  I can't breathe life into my own lifelessness, I can't bring warmth to a cold heart.  Okay.  Maybe joy is all God's doing.  I've learned a bit about waiting as He knit together a life in me and as He teaches me through gardening.  Got it.  I'm waiting. 

2. Thankfulness. I read "A thousand gifts" and have been moved over and over again by some of the things she writes.  Her ultimate answer is that thankfulness is the road to joy.  Okay, I'll work on that.

3. Prayer.  We are studying prayer in small group, and I've been learning about discipline as I stitch together a quilt- stitch by stitch, faithfully, quietly (more on this later).  Some things just take practice, faithfulness, commitment, discipline, and work.  Yup.  The fact that I don't have joy must mean I should try harder.  Pray more, be more thankful.  

4. Sabbath. We started actually practicing Sabbath.  Rest, in Christ, and He can and will bring joy.  Okay, so it's up to Christ. I'll rest.

Ack.  Me, Him, faith, works, joy (???)  As helpful as thankfulness, discipline, prayer, and Sabbath are to my pathway to joy I don't want to understand the cake or its ingredients, I just want to eat it.  Let me eat the freakin' cake already.  Give me the fork, just give it to me and I will eat and enjoy. 

So that's it.  A mess of thoughts and words to try and describe the jumbled knot of questions inside of me.  I want to have joy now.  Here. In my everyday life.  In this season of small children and crumb encrusted floors.  In the restless days and laundry. 

Help God.  Help.

The Thorn of My Flesh

My flesh is failing.  Fragile.  A jar of clay.  It is decaying and will one day be swept away as dust.  Life is short. Health and wholeness are lofty dreams.  My body is a near constant reminder to me that I cannot do this life alone.
I could list all the physical ailments and troubles I have suffered over these last 5 or more years.  It is long.

In fact, I have a new one to add which has caused me a bucket of grief in the last 24 hours.  I could look for pity and sympathy; Lord knows I've done enough of that.  I've been learning head knowledge about finding joy and peace, contentment in the Lord.

But it's just starting to really hit me how bitter and angry I've become.

My knee jerk response when anything difficult, out of my control, or aside from my plans assails me is to be mad, complain, and whine. (Sounds like a certain 2 year old I know).  What good has this response achieved for me?

Every day I find justifiable reasons to be upset at the world and my life:  "My body, my kids, my this, my that."  There are always reasons to be discontent.

 No one is discontent for no reason.

My health is the top of my list.  "Why is there always something?  Why am I never healthy?  Why me?  Why now?  When will I find physical relief from sufferings?"

However, I realized today that I cannot wait until my health is whole to have joy.  I can't.  Because if I wait, I may never have joy.  I may never have contentment.  My body will only continue to fail. I may never truly get to see God's strength and sufficiency in my weakness if I live this way.  

Sigh.  But whyyyyyyy?  Why do we have to learn through suffering and hardship?  Interestingly, I'm learning that 'thorns in our flesh' (or in my case, the thorn OF my flesh), has taught me so much.  Who would I be without these sufferings?  Arrogant, haughty, not empathetic, compassion-less, insensitive and the list continues.

Perseverance through my personal sufferings may be the best teaching tool.  Maybe God allows these thorns because He knows the me I would become without them.  Maybe He allows my flesh to weaken me, daily, so that I will actually and finally learn how to be content in all circumstances: because I will see God's power made perfect in my weaknesses.  Maybe it's through these trials that I will actually slow down, stop, and finally see who He really is to me: my Comfort, my Strength, my Refuge, my Peace...

I was out walking with Silas and heard myself say to him: "yeah, it's raining again. But that's okay- because the plants need both sun AND rain to grow."   Did I just say that?  It hit me like a ton of bricks.  "Shannon, rain is good for you!  It's necessary!  It's part of growth.  You could not grow without rain.  You cannot grow without trials."

So here I am.  A bag of ailments.  Will I not find joy already?  Will I not be content?  Every circumstance, all things will be used for GOOD in my life and character if I'd just lean on and look to God.  

My Bucket List

Bucket lists. There are a lot of people posting them these days.  I'm not above them.  In fact, I have a few of my own.  I recognize the pleasure of making a list of things and actually ticking them off to say: "I've seen, I've done, I've conquered."

There's the usual things on mine like: "travel to Asia, learn a second language fluently, write and publish a book, go trekking, eat chocolate every day for a year," etc. But lately I'm realizing that I have a better bucket list.  Okay, maybe not better.  Perhaps more overambitious, more ambiguous, perhaps more somber, but a bucket list nonetheless.

Every day as I wake up I have two little lives that reflect the person that I am.  They reveal my character with all its true flaws.  The longer I live the less naive I am about my faults.  There is no easy escape, I cannot fight these behavioral habits alone.   They require time, attention and divine intervention. I am literally powerless to change some of these weaknesses on my own.

But oh, wouldn't it be wonderful if these areas I struggle with could be changed?  I pull at them from the surface by trying harder, doing better, making new years' resolutions.  But this is like ripping off the leaves of a weed without truly uprooting them.  They come back.  Again.

I need God's Spirit to do work in my heart, daily.  Maybe, just maybe, by the end of this life my rough edges will be smoother, more weeds will be uprooted, and Christ will be more apparent in my thoughts, words, and behaviors.  That's the goal isn't it?  Is a better me, possible?

I'm a bit tired of hiding all my faults behind a veneer of perfection or superficiality so here goes:  

My bucket list of character traits I'd rather do without, and ones I want to have:

1. Be a more contented, joyful person. What if I were content for a change?  As my default? In whatever my circumstance?  Wow.  Imagine.

2. I want to stop seeing the negative in every situation, all the time.  I wear negative lenses through which I seem to view all things.  I am kind of tired of my whining voice that constantly relays every bad thing that happens every day to every listener.  I'm a complaining, moaning, grumbling person by nature.  Could I not just automatically see the positive?

3. Have a posture of thankfulness and gratitude that flows into a spirit of generosity.  Aka: less materialism, less envy, and more giving.  Rid myself of this attitude of entitlement, be more humble and give even at a cost to myself. [Is that like 6 things?]

4. I want to learn patience in affliction.  [Okay, patience in general.  Anyone who sits in front of a microwave cursing the seconds has serious issues with this- aka me].

5. See others' needs as more important than my own.  I'm. So. Selfish.

6. Be less controlling, less of a perfectionist.  [Good luck with this weed God- it goes deep!]

7. Learn how to respond thoughtfully versus react out of emotions.  Oh, never mind, I've accomplished that one.  [Kidding].

8.  I want to be okay with discomfort and abandon this notion that God and His whole world exists to make me feel comfortable. 

Okay.  So this list is not exhaustive.  The more thoughts I think and days I live the more I realize just how innately sinful I am.  I hardly believe for a second I will ever be able to look at this list and simply cross these off, "Done! Prize please!"  I also don't think that God will accept me more or somehow I will be more worthy of Him if I achieve these character attributes.  However, I do dream and hope for a day that my character will be more like Christ.  I cannot wait until heaven when, in seeing Him face to face, I will be made more like Him.  Finally.  I will rest from my flaws which become ever more frustrating, limiting, and burdensome.

Cleaning the Closets

I have written random poems, reflections, rants and ramblings that are crammed into computer folders.  They are hidden away, shoved behind a closed door marked "writings."  I've decided to fling wide the doors of my 'closet' and air these collections out.  

Who knows:  maybe I'll find a treasure. Maybe some of these wrinkly messes will bless others. Or, maybe they're back there for a reason.  Help me clean out my closets.  

I'll be posting some writings.  Let me know what you think!  If I suck at poetry, let me know (gently).   Let's see what is back there, dusty in a corner, ignored and unfruitful.

Here's the first one. It's probably not my best, it's probably cheesy, but here it is. [You'll note that when I wrote this I only had "4 limbs" to mother but this amount has doubled!  If I were to re-write it I would add an additional paragraph about 2 year olds, there would be more mention of laundry, and the hum of a dishwasher and a crying baby would be somehow heard above the beating drum of my predictable rhymes].

Just Another Day

I awake, get dressed, and fight the fatigue

a little boy greets me, running at full speed.

Smiling and talking 100 miles per hour,

“tractor, truck, cookie, train, cake, and tower.”

Breakfast and dressing, diapers, and tag,

dishes, and laundry, one more dirty rag.

Rooms to be organized, owies to kiss

4 limbs that want wrestling, an appointment to miss.

I groan and I sigh, “If only today,”

“could be something different: extra-ordinary,” I say.

“No. It’s just another day.”

But then I think upon that statement and wonder how it could be

that I’d want more than my life, even at its same speed.

Food in the pantry, roof overhead,

clothes for our covering, sheets for our bed.

A husband and father who works, receives pay

then comes home to kiss me at the end of our day.

Our nation's not at war, our health: intact.

Our family is supportive, our wealth: a fact.

Some have no peace, no hope in the divine

And me? I have both. Ingratitude is my crime.

How can I possibly complain in remorse

that today is simply ordinary, a typical life’s course?

Instead:

I’ll choose joy and be thankful once more

for the balls thrown right at me, and food on the floor.

I’ll laugh at the experience of moments like these

I’ll smile, and I’ll savour, and I will this breath seize.

I'll awaken to my life, the one that I hold

it is fragile, it is blessed, it’s a mystery to unfold.

Even when I wonder what life is like ‘out there’

as I stare out the window and feel it’s unfair:

I’ll remember to praise the Giver before this day ends.

because even if this day’s ordinary, God did for me send:

Hope for my future in chaos and pain

a savior, His presence in the dark, dreary rain.

Provisions, protection, Christ: my hope and my source

And He is the ‘extra’ in every ordinary days’ course.