happy happy joy joy

hmmmm....just reread a few blog entries from the past couple months and to an outsider (are there any of you out there?) it kind of sounds like i'm sad and depressed. really, it's not like that! i'm just dramatic sometimes when i write. it helps me process. and sounds better. i promise i'm not embelishing the realities of my life to make it sound better. that would be pathetic.

anyway....i think i am a joyful person. friends - can i get a "YEA YOU ARE?!?!" i love celebrating the littlest victories. no mess on the island when Greg gets home, a 19 month old saying "pullllessssssse" as he's running around the house with a box of breakfast bars that i've told him he can't have, a painless trip to the DMV and no surprise written test - that really did happen a few years ago and i thought for sure i'd fail with out studying, but i passed - victory. i cherish opportunities to smile and laugh with friends. to enjoy the daily moments of life. to listen to the details of greg's work day when he gets home. and kiss him good night. i could have an whole other blog for my sweet Greg. to feel the sun on my shoulders. have lunch dates with sweet Ben. to connect with old friends. i get excited about the silliest things. making Christmas cards in October. sending pictures of Ben to his favorite people. they get so excited. which i love. finding new recipies that everyone loves. talking to my grandmother. listening to my aunt. learning new things. knowing Jesus. and this smile.

Hope.

The song "Cry Out to Jesus" by Third Day came up on my iPod during a random (there really is nothing random in this world) shuffle the other day. And it resonated with me.

"There is hope for the hopeless and rest for the weary and love for the broken heart. There is grace and forgiveness. Mercy and healing. That meet you where ever you are. Cry out to Jesus. Cry out to Jesus."

Sweet Jesus, thank you for seeing each tear that has fallen. Thank you for hurting with me. For knowing my pain and loving me perfectly in it. For giving me such joy and hope in my life. In my marriage. In my sweet Ben. In my family. And my friends. Thank you for celebrating each victory with me. Being my biggest fan. For being proud. For hoping with me...for a miracle.

forever marked

i have cried stains into the wood desk in our office this year as i've typed on my computer. tears for Judson. tears for our babies. tears for hurting friends. tears for strangers. so many tears. i feel like i should circle them with ink and label them. to document this journey. this season. this time when i have been forever changed by the hurt in this world and the love of Christ. and i am desperate to understand the balance. how joy and pain can exist in the same heart at the same moment.

i'm back

It's been an eventful month, ie. no time for blogging. Unfortunately that probably means no time for reflecting. Which really means no time for Jesus. YIKES! I shouldn't say it that way. I have been praying. A lot with Ben which I LOVE. He puts his little hands together and says, "pray?" And I do. And he says, "Amen!"....then, "mas?" And we pray more. But back to my month. I left Seva at the end of September. It just wasn't the right job at the right time. So Ben and I packed up and went to visit my folks in Houston for a week. (and family in Suger Land and College Station.) Things I learned: Ben loves to tormet my parents cat. "MOKEY JOE!" - Cat goes running for his life! Ben needs a dog. Ben loves his cousins and aunts and uncles and we need to visit them more. It really is more humid in Houston than you can even imagine. Literally. A sauna. Unreal. It wasn't even raining and the roads were wet. From the humidity. Is that possible? Did they teach us something about that in chemistry when I wasn't paying attention? Time does not exist between old friends. Everything seemed bigger when you were a little. You always feel like a kid in your parents house. Even if you have a kid. I am always looking over my shoulder to see if there is some one I know from a hundred years ago, who's name I won't be able to remember if they see me. This trip it was Amy Reedy (with child) at Chick-fil-a. And....there's no place like home. And after almost 10 years, California really is home. Except that my body has secretly stayed on Central Time and I have NO problem going to bed at 10:00 pm CT the first night I'm in Texas and getting a solid 10 hours of sleep. Ahhhh....that was nice!

what i remember...

i'm at my parents house in the woodlands this week and we have spent a lot of time cleaning out old closets, desks, dressers, etc as my parents prepare to sell the house i grew up in. i am not much of a pack rat. i'm kind of a throw it away so i don't have to find a perfect place to store it person. but apparently my mom is...the most organized pack rat ever. so i've been going through boxes and boxes of "artifacts" she kept from my childhood. making piles for trash and good will and a few, very few items that i want to hang on to. and it's surprising what those things are. those pictures, pieces of paper, cards and what not that so connect me to the raw emotion of my childhood. many that i didn't think twice about at the time, but now, with years in-between, they are beyond significant. they are pieces of the puzzel that fit together and tell a story.

a letter my mom wrote me at camp when i was 7 telling me that my good friend's brother had died of cancer.

a letter i had written my mom telling her i hated camp and didn't ever want to go again - wanting to prevent another loss.

old halloween costumes - I was the cutest bunny you've ever seen.

misc. dance and cheerleading uniforms that remind me of sweet times with sweet friends - and wanting to be popular.

journals from high school filled with anger. then Jesus. then love - wanting eternal acceptance.

report cards. i did get a C in geometry. and probably an F in spelling. is that how you spell geometry? - wanting to be smart.
slinky bracelets and ballet shoes.
a tarnished silver bracelet and a best friend charm - wanting desperately to be someones best friend.

a notebook from college with writings from my favorite class with Prof. Bump - wanting to be heard and understood.

lots of notes from old boyfriends that make me SO grateful for Greg. and thankful that i learned the lessons i did BEFORE i met him! and so sad for the loss of Tim Isom. February 1976 - September 2001.
prom dresses and school photos - wanting to be pretty and desired.
golf trophies - wanting my dad to be proud.
birthday cards i made for mom and dad...that reveal a tender soul in a little girl.

Lord, more than anything, I want You to be glorified. Be glorified in my life.