Joy - post 1

December.  The month of JOY.  JOY to the world. 

 Good tidings of great JOY!

 

 

Unless you are a mom.  December is filled with activities, events, decorating, messes, budget issues, shopping, crowds, hyper kids, weather problems, and a huge list of things that you SHOULD feel joyful about but instead, you dread. 

 

I, for one, really hate decorating my tree.  For years I worked for a corporation that operated a beautiful inn and 4 incredible restaurants and numerous banquet facilities.  They were decorated to the hilt.  All were located in historic buildings so many of the trees had perfectly curled ribbons instead of tinsel;  thousands of white sparkling lights instead of multi-colored pink, orange, purple and blue (whoever decided those were the colors of Christmas lights is permanently on my naughty list) lights that blink - usually half the tree turning dark at a time; lace ornaments instead of ones made of glitter, posterboard and pasta. And I bought into it.  I loved those trees and I vowed that when I had a home of my own, I would have a pretty tree.  And for a year or so, I did.  Then we had kids.  And nothing on my tree matched.  In one of our homes that we've lived in, we had a family room AND a living room - so I bought another tree.  And all the trimmings.  It was beautiful - everyone commented on it.  I was so proud of my tree.  Then we moved.  We only have one room now for a tree.  And it is back to being mismatched.  My hubby loves colored lights.  I like white.  So decorating the tree has become a time of compromise, not of joy.  I literally let my hubby and my kids do it by themselves.  There is not a lot of JOY in my heart during tree decorating time.  I set up my little Christmas village and my collection of nativities and grumble about the huge tote of elegant decorations that will not be used again this year. 

 

 

Then, there is THE list. 

 

 That list of everything I am supposed to do at Christmas time.

  Make, bake and decorate sugar cookies with my kids.  Make gingerbread houses with my kids.  Read a different Christmas story each night with my kids.  Make sure they know every aspect of the Christmas story so that they do not confuse Christmas Wise Men with the Wise Man who built his house upon a rock.  Do a daily service as a family.  Do a daily service as an individual.  Go caroling. Make homemade chocolates, fudge, caramels etc for all the neighbors (which in our small town, pretty much includes everyone). Make homemade meaningful gifts for my husband's co-workers and all of my children's teachers and bus drivers. Take Christmas pictures, make scrapbook worthy Christmas cards, write a Christmas letter and send it to every single person in both sides our extended family plus everyone we may have ever spoken to over the sixteen years we've been married. Attend Messiah sing-alongs, multiple Christmas concerts, and at least one performance of Dickens' Christmas Carol and the Nut Cracker.  Make fruit baskets for the widows.  Go to every single Christmas party we are invited to, wearing a fabulous, new outfit to each one and bring a gourmet dish to each. Volunteer at the homeless shelter. Organize a canned food drive. Shop for perfect gifts for everyone on my list while sticking to my budget. Visit all family members, spending the exact amount of time with each so no one is offended. Go see Christmas lights in several different cities. Donate to every charity that needs money.  AND keep up on the laundry, house cleaning, cooking balanced healthy meals for my family.  Oh, yeah, and by the way, I am supposed to feel JOY during this whole process.

 

Not gonna happen.  All that I am going to feel is stress and guilt.  I'm not thinking that is why we celebrate Christmas.

The first Christmas was quiet.  Simple.  A few songs were sung by some angels and probably a lullaby or two by a young scared mother. The only light came from a magnificent star and possibly a candle or a lantern in a small cozy stable.  The little family feasted upon something like bread, goat cheese and probably dried figs or fruit. Visits were made without a thought of time, but instead of soaking in the magic of the moment. Decorations were piles of straw, hay and some rough hewn mangers. Gifts were given, out of the pure happiness of giving. And ultimately, the greatest gift was given simply of out LOVE.

JOY to the world.  Good tidings of great JOY. 

I don't know how I am going to avoid the dreaded list this Christmas.  I know that it will be shortened though.  And I'll be doing the things on my list out of the desire to do them, not the motivation of avoiding the guilt that comes by NOT doing them. I want to do things the Christmas season to bring JOY to my heart and the hearts of others that I love.  If it means that I only make a small batch of fudge for my family and just make or even buy something tiny for the neighbors, so be it.  If it means that my traditional Christmas letter becomes a New Years letter and doesn't even include a fancy picture, so be it.  If it means that the only book we read this year is the story of Christ's birth in the Bible, so be it. 

Delicate Post 3

Today I've been crying.  I watched a video on Facebook and bawled my eyes out.  Then I started prepping my mp3 player with Christmas songs and I heard Silent Night.  And the tears started AGAIN!  I don't like to cry.  I spent way too much time as a teenager and in my twenties crying.  I cried over everything.  Commercials.  Happy days. Sad days.  Everytime I had to speak in public (yes, that includes school presentations). At parties.  By myself.  At church.  At home.  At grandparents houses.  I just cried.  It's amazing, actually, that my skin didn't mold.  I guess that is why tears are salty - it lessens the chance of mildew growth on pillows, friends shoulders, faces, etc.

Then, when I was about twenty seven, I discovered these magical things called anti-depressant meds.  And the tears stopped.  Completely. For a while, I couldn't cry at funerals, at sad movies, any where or for any reason.  I stopped getting chills during a spiritual talk.  I literally stopped feeling.  I was numb.  I don't think my spirit was numb - there was just a problem with the relay system between my brain and my spirit and my heart.

Although I didn't miss being a soggy mess all the time and having to wear waterproof mascara every single day, I did miss feeling emotion.  I felt I was becoming hardened.

In a way, I am still somewhat numb.  I've been on the meds for over ten years now.  And by far, the benefits have outweighed the side effects.  I am not a completely crazy mom who is an emotional wreck all the time.  I can speak in public (and have discovered that I LOVE it).  I can go outside in the summer without being completely terrified that a grasshopper will land on me. I can go to the grocery store (or anywhere) without someone else. The medicine has allowed me to be who I always wanted to be without the paralyzing anxiety and depression.

The key now is for me to balance my somewhat "toughened" emotional state with the "delicate" spiritual state that I need to be in.  And so, I embrace the days that I cry at videos, when Silent Night seems to penetrate my very being, and when I shed tears for the pain of a friend.  That means that there is still a delicate part of my spirit.  I don't want to become the emotional mess that I was - I can do without that.  I long for there to be a balance.  I can't do it by myself (another thing I am learning during this process) - I will need to ask Heavenly Father to help me.  I want to fit the description in the Book of Mormon when Jacob is teaching his people (Jacob 2:7 - 9) where it says: "before your wives and children, many of whose feelings are exceedingly tender and chaste and delicate before God, which thing is pleasing unto God..."

Delicate Post 2

The Princess and the Pea and Me

Delicate.  All princesses are delicate, right?  As I looked through the worldly definitions of delicate, this is what I found:
1 - fine in texture, quality, construction, etc
2 - fragile, easily damaged
3 - frail or sickly
4 - fine or precise in action or execution
5 - requiring or showing great care, caution or tact
6 - keenly sensitive

Scriptural definition - see tender.

My mind went to the fairy tale of The Princess and the Pea.  Allow me to refresh your memory. A prince needed to find a  princess and naturally, hundreds of young ladies applied for the position.  His mother, being wise as all mothers are, knew that only a TRUE princess would be delicate enough to feel a tiny pea placed under a stack of mattresses. Soooooo.... The princess interview process began.  Some of the "princesses" were beautiful, others were funny, others were good, others were smart. But on the night that they spent at the palace in the royal guest chambers, upon the high stack of feather mattresses, the queen would sneak a green pea under the bottom mattress.  And each morning, when the girls would come down, refreshed from their wonderful night's sleep, the queen would shake her head at her husband and her son, and they would sigh and have the young lady escorted out.  Finally, one girl passed the test.  She was delicate enough, sensitive enough to feel the miniscule lump under the stack of a hundred mattresses.  The queen nodded to her husband, who nodded to their son who proposed on the spot and they lived happily ever after.

Believe it or not, I am a princess.  My spirit was born to a royal King and Queen and I have a Prince as my Elder Brother.  My spiritual lineage is as pure as it can be.  Would I pass this test of a tiny pea being placed in a stack of mattresses?  Am I delicate enough that I would toss and turn, getting more uncomfortable by the second?  Or would I carry on, not noticing anything and enjoy a night of blissful slumber?

The test that Heavenly Father gives me doesn't have anything to do with a pea, or mattresses or a good night's sleep.  The type of "delicate" that He is searching for in me is spiritual.  Am I still the spiritual princess that He created me to be?

In a movie, does a scene that implies sexual actions make me squirm?  Does a scene of brief nudity make me want to leave the theater?  Do I change the channel when a TV show's writing contains nothing but lewd comments?  Do I cringe when I hear the name of my Father or my Elder Brother used in vain?  Do I blush at the commercials that stretch decency to the limit? Do I turn off the radio when the lyrics aren't suitable for my children (or me) to listen to? Or are those just small peas that don't bother me anymore because they are covered up by the mattresses of popularity, laughs, fear of being embarrassed. or other excuses?

Those are the questions I need to explore as I study the attribute of being "delicate". 

Delicate

Time for a new attribute to study.  This choice has been very difficult for me.  I've really struggled in what to choose this month - which is why it is now the 7th and I'm just barely doing this post.  I finally settled on DELICATE.

I have never seen myself as delicate.  I don't know that anyone else has either.  :)  The only time I can remember feeling delicate was in college.  A big group of us were outside in 2 feet of snow and all our puffy marshmallow snow coats playing football.  Tackle football.  I had the ball, and one guy picked me up and moved me out of bounds rather than tackle me.  I was shocked!  When I asked him why he hadn't just tackled me, he replied that he thought I would break.  That was pretty much the only time I thought I was delicate.

I am tall.  I am a bit on the fluffy/big boned side.  All the haircuts that say - for delicate pixie like faces - I can pretty much disregard.  I have worked for years to prove that I can do anything. I've hung drywall.  I've tiled floors and shower surrounds.  I've helped put in wiring in a house. I paint walls. I've helped install chain link fencing, built shelves, put in a sprinkling system. I take mice out of the traps.  I take care of disposing of dead animals. I know how to start fires. I love shooting guns and bows and arrows.  I have no problem watching a deer being gutted or seeing blood. My favorite shows are crime type dramas. I mow the lawn regularly and do most of the yard work. I just passed my driving test on our 34 foot fire engine at the department and learned how to handle the hoses and water cannon (which is so fun!).  I can work a chain saw.  I move furniture.  And if I want something done, I will usually do it myself.  I have worked very hard to be "tough" and "strong" and fiercely independent. 

To me being delicate is being a "girly girl"  who calls her husband to kill spiders, refuses to take out the trash, faints at the sight of anything gory, only watches home and garden tv and looks like a porcelain doll.  SO NOT ME!

So I am wrestling with the whole concept of being delicate.  The thought makes me cringe. That is why I decided to work on this attribute. Let the learning begin!

Recap of Gracious

It is almost time to begin learning about another attribute. But I wanted to remind myself of what I learned about being gracious.

1st - Being gracious has nothing to do with being a good hostess or Julie Andrews.

2nd - Being gracious is truly a God-like quality.  It is because of His graciousness that we are given everything in this life AND allowed to return to His presence in the next, after all we can do.

3rd - Being gracious is a lot easier with a total stranger than it is with a family member.

4th - Being gracious is a lot easier when everything is going right in my life - when I am not hungry or tired or stressed or surrounded by a dirty house or looking at a long to-do list.

5th - Being gracious is very hard when you are being screamed at and hit by your tired, hungry and stressed child.

6th - Being gracious with myself is a constant battle but even if I cut myself slack on one thing per day, I am doing better at it than I was before.

7th - Being gracious is not something I can achieve in a months time.  I will have to keep working at it, probably every hour of every day. 

I started with "gracious" thinking that it might be one of the easier parts of my spirit to remember.  Now I am thinking that I just may have started with one of the hardest.  Gracious seems to encompass many different things.  But I had to start somewhere!  And maybe with graciousness as my base, some of the others will come a bit more easily!

I'd love to hear what you learned about being gracious - either as a comment here or you can email me at artichokeproject47@gmail.com

Gracious - Post 5

I noticed as I looked over "The List" last night that forgiving isn't included.  I think if I can truly embrace being gracious, forgiveness just takes care of itself.  But this part of being gracious is a tough one.  As a human being (and as a woman), I find it a lot easier to give other people the benefit of the doubt, cut them some slack and overlook weaknesses.  However, I find it really hard to do the same when I am dealing with myself.  I tend to compare all of my faults to everyone else's strengths.  I beat myself up over things that I have said (or haven't said), things that I have done (or haven't done), thoughts that I think (or don't think but think that I should think), opportunities I miss,  the numerous lbs AND wrinkles I have gained over the past twenty years, etc. I seem to be able to remember mistakes I've made from years ago far better than I can remember what I ate for breakfast yesterday!

I judge myself very harshly and am by far, my worst critic.  I find it very easy to list everything I am doing wrong or think I am doing wrong.  While I am not a perfectionist by any means (my daughter is and WOW does that create a whole new dimension of beating yourself up), I still have high expectations for myself - that golden standard.

I need to be the perfect wife - the one that always greets her husband at the door after work with a smile and a kiss and a happy greeting (never the one who greets him holding a screaming child with one hand, the car keys in the other hand and a growl that is interpreted as "It's your turn now").  The wife/homemaker who keeps a perfectly clean house, has a fabulous dinner cooked by the same time every night (including foods from all of the food groups in perfect balance and served on nice dishes with candles on the table), and the laundry is ALWAYS caught up - never an item of dirty clothes anywhere in the house.

 I need to be the perfect mom - you know, the one that is never distracted by Facebook or Pinterest, always has a warm homemade snack waiting for the kids when they get home from school, has daily scripture study with the family for 30 minutes plus at least 30 minutes of family exercise and/or yoga, plays Barbies and Hot Wheels cars with the kids for hours on end, followed by outside soccer games, trampoline jumping - all while teaching them meaningful Gospel lessons AND their multiplication tables, a foreign language and how to diagram sentences.  Oh, and the most important part, I would NEVER, EVER lose my cool.  EVER.  I would always speak in a sweet tone, using please and thank you. 

If you think I measure up to that standard, you think wrong.  And I beat myself up over it.  Anytime my kids bring home a grade that is less than decent, or they get caught in a lie, or they don't obey, or they hit one each other, or they don't do their chores, or have atrocious table manners, or they talk back to their teacher, etc, etc; I am fairly certain it is because I failed as a mom.  I didn't do something right.  I didn't teach them well enough.  I wasn't a good example. 

Maybe these seem like trivial things.  But they weigh me down - some days more than others.  I have my pity party days when nothing I do seems to be right, when every choice I make seems to backfire and everything I do seems to not work. And I don't cut myself slack.  It doesn't matter that I am exhausted after being up two nights in a row with a sick kid.  It doesn't matter that I am trying to juggle ten things (all good things) at once and I just lose it.  It doesn't matter that the child I snapped at and yelled at has been pushing every button I have for the entire day.  Those things just don't seem to matter to me when I am holding myself up against that standard that I've created for myself.

A few years ago in Sunday School, there was a lesson about forgiveness.  The man teaching was talking about forgiving others.  He mentioned that when we aren't willing to forgive others, we are basically saying the person who wronged us is not worth the Atonement of Christ.  That person wasn't loved enough of God, that Christ wasn't willing to suffer and die for their "sins" or the wrong that they had committed against us.   Of course we know that Christ suffered for the sins, wrong doings (whether intentional or not intentional), pains and heartbreak of each of us. 

So what am I saying when I am not willing to forgive myself of the things I do wrong?  "I'm sorry, Elder Brother, I know that you suffered for everyone else but I refuse to think that you suffered for me, for every time I yell at my kids or tell a tiny white lie, or spread one piece of gossip, or judge someone, or don't fulfill a calling to the best of my ability. I am not of worth enough for you to have done that for me."

I don't think that is how it works.  I think at that point, Christ would look me in the eye, with tears running down His face and tell me that He suffered for me too. For every little thing.  And He did it so that I don't have to berate myself over and over for something that I did wrong.  He suffered for the big things and the tiny things and everything in between. He suffered so I won't have to BECAUSE I AM OF WORTH TO HIM AND HE LOVES ME.

Pres. Uchtdorf said in the April 2012 Conference:  "When the Lord requires that we forgive all men, that includes forgiving ourselves.  Sometimes, of all the people in the world, the one who is the hardest to forgive - as well as perhaps the one who is most in need of forgiveness - is the person looking at us in the mirror."

So this week, I am going to try harder - not to excuse my behavior, but to see myself as Christ sees me - as one who is trying hard and who slips up sometimes.  And the world doesn't end when I slip up.  I can feel sad, and ask for forgiveness of those I have wronged and then, I can LET IT GO. 

Gracious 4

I know, not a very long post today.  But this introduces the next focus of graciousness so well.  Just think about what this says.  If you want to share, what do you beat yourself up about?