2017 :: Our Teacher of Overcoming

As 2017 ends, Justin and I have been praising God for HIS faithful goodness. Our year has had extreme happiness and extreme sorrow and everything in between. We have handled some of it well and some of it poorly, as well as a range of character traits in between. We thank Jesus for the kind, patient, brave freedom He has provided for us to grow into the hearts He has cleansed through all.the.adjustments. That's the message we want all to hear! 2017 has proved to us in clearer ways that with God at our helm, being our True North in overwhelming times, we really can overcome struggles -- and struggles aren't pretty or scripted, and that is the way it is. We will enter 2018 with much growth left to do through unknown times of emotional heights and depths, but we are also kinder, braver, stronger, and more deeply joyful than ever before.

In July I drove from Tennessee to Oklahoma and back with our 5-month-old to see The Pioneer Woman's Mercantile store. I did not expect she would be there to meet. Wow! She is as kind as she seems!
Not the most important part of our year, but definitely a fun moment that portrays the courage I am finding to be myself.
(Adventuring alone and traveling out West is a big part of me. Ha!)

I am going to recap our year as briefly as possible. 

• The happiest part of the year was the birth of our third child at the end of February. We are unspeakably thankful God chose us to be the parents of three mighty, darling boys. We could not have imagined or chosen better for our life than what God has given. The challenges and rewards of parenting alongside God's grace are the marrow of our existences.

• The saddest part of the year, probably the lowest of our lives, was losing my husband’s father in July. He took his own life. This event affects so many deeply, and I don’t feel worthy to say much about it here because of the sensitive nature. But we are so thankful for the people who support us and pray for us. Please keep my mother-in-law in your prayers, as her life will continue to require a lot of adjustments that seem gigantic in a grievous, soul-draining time. She is a sincerely strong person. 

• Homeschool — in January, we chose to enroll our then-kindergartener in a private school, after I homeschooled him during the fall semester. I was very pregnant with our third child, and the depression and anxiety I’ve fought my whole life were knocking us all down. We are so thankful for opportunities and means to adjust certain steps when the needs arise. Bridger does well wherever he is, and he thrived in that environment of friends and leadership. However,  we are homeschooling again for this first-grade year. I obsess about how every little thing I don’t know how to do or don’t do well affects who he’ll be as a man... but this year is going better. We will pray and decide with each school year what is best for the qualities and meaning we hope to cultivate in our relationships with our kids as they meet the world. I pray even more than I obsess about it... Lots of growing left to do!

• My husband’s work continues to amaze me. He works for an online university as his full-time job, and he has a successful baseball card business that he runs on the side. I can’t thank him enough for putting the competency God gave him with business matters (an amazing wonder to me—lol) together with the joy of his hobby and lots of early mornings and late nights to support our debts, expenses, and hopes. Check out Burl’s Sports, if you’re interested.

• I have running goals and writing goals that are still blurry as I test my thrice post-partum strength and abilities through the demanding attention and energy required be Mommy. I am learning how to be kind to myself. Because no one dislikes me more than I do. But I am truly grasping how short my time here is, and God has shown me possibilities that excite me for reaching people with my weirdness -- and soaking up His gifts. Lots of prayer and journey... 

• We have a wonderful local church family, as well as so many people all over from our past who continue to show us how to love like God in little and big ways. So many of you wonderful brothers and sisters in Christ have loved us through our ignorance, immaturity, and youth toward becoming more like Jesus... we know this will be the case, no matter our age, and many of you have showed us how we want to pay it forward. This locally includes my mom, stepdad, and my sister and her precious family; and Justin's family a few hours away. We are very blessed. Part of me has always wanted to live alone in a tipi on a mountain because relationships are hard... Learning how to be strong, wise, and kind -- and to let others do the same, without codependency -- important work. So many of you are continuing to show me, with the Spirit’s whispers of meaning, how rich friendship and companionship are. I haven’t felt this safe and courageous about this kind of thing before. I am soberly thankful.

The future will hold darkness and light, evil and good, happiness and sorrow; we are ready for it (as we pray and seek continually). 

Learning how to Feast on the Fruits of the Spirit, not Control Them

“Fruitfulness” was my unofficial word for 2017. Words meld with my soul to help me through internal tedious reflections and significant moments. I am thankful God uses them so creatively to guide me, even when my misconceptions point me in wrong directions. When last year ended, I was in a deep depression on top of chronic anxiety, pregnant with our third child and scared of my weaknesses through stress, feeling incredibly guilty I felt so empty when God had given me so much. I was obsessed (a term not used lightly) with my misunderstanding of the Spirit’s fruit inside my soul. I wanted to control that fruit, and I loathed myself for failing at it. The way I was looking at it, because of my interpretations of many sermons about Galatians 5:22-23, I thought incorrectly (and absurdly) that my control of God’s fruit (Hah!) was the equivalent of little old Nicoll walking up to a new apple tree to make it instantly mature and full of pie-making fruit with a snap of my wishful fingers. Just like that.

I am the tree in that metaphor, and 

Love

Joy

Peace

Patience

Kindness

Goodness

Faithfulness

Gentleness

Self Control

are the pieces of the magical Spirit fruit salad. I thought it was supposed to be simple as picking fruit up at the store (reading God’s list of fruits and acknowledging the goodness, desiring it) and ... voila! Good Nicoll, always and forever. BUT THAT IS NOT HOW IT WORKS!

Learning more about psychology through many personal counselors has also revealed my cognitive distortion about the nature of my feelings (which are usually not as pretty as those things listed above...) I thought my feelings were the essence of my soul. And since my feelings weren’t always good, I assumed I was a bad fruit, a useless and rotten waste. Nope. Nope nope nope. NOPE! Feelings, thoughts, and behaviors are connected *but separate* parts of us that help us progress out of ourselves into the world around us: 

Feelings can’t be controlled because they’re just responses to the world around me. They yield useful information about how we adjust to everything, so they shouldn’t be ignored. I touch fire, it hurts, and I don’t like it, so I won’t do that again. That’s natural. Someone disrespects my boundaries or gets too close, and I don’t like one doing that. Natural preservation instincts aren’t indicators of an evil heart. It doesn’t mean I am a horrible waste of Jesus’s sacrifice. (Drama intended to reveal absurdity.) But I also don’t have to avoid fire or imposing people just because the first encounter was marred by inexperience. I get to progress by changing my interaction with the world around me as I learn what works and what doesn’t work. My first thought may be out of my control, but the ones afterward can be chosen for focus and edification, instead of isolation and bitterness (through tedious and continuous intention); and behaviors can be chosen through courageous discipline for the well-being of myself and others in God’s will.

A message I want to repeat for effect is that none of this is an instant answer for arrival at a concrete script for perfect interaction. As long as I have breath in my body, unveiling my feelings about new experiences and relationships, and then sifting through my wounds and motivations so I can work to build up Christ’s Kingdom in my heart for blessing those I love for God’s glory, will be my purposeful journey of lifelong learning.

Because I was obsessed with something as significant as God’s fruits in my character and life, I took it (way too) seriously. I look(ed) at it all wrong, and it was magnifying my self-loathing and doubt in God’s power. So poisonous.

Big news: It’s NOT my fruit. 

I am not creating the fruit.

The outcome of the fruit is not mine.

The fruit is the Spirit’s.

What is my role in this fruit that I desperately desire? The metaphor of gardening helps me through this soul nourishment. No matter how well I garden, the creation of the seeds is never in my control, and the weather that affects the harvest is also beyond me. The way I engage with the Spirit in this process as He produces fruit is what affects me. He is inviting me to help Him prepare a feast that I get to enjoy with Him, not expecting me to achieve master gardening on my first (or millionth) attempt for superfluous reasons. The productivity matters, but it’s not the point. And it’s not *my* achievement.  Getting to know Him as He gets to know me, while we work together is where His creative power meets my character.

• Collecting — Before I plant a garden, I collect seeds I want to grow. Where do I find the Spirit’s seeds? Soul seeds are biblical knowledge (inspired by (drumroll, please) the Spirit of God), collected through personal study of His Word and the cultural and historical perspectives of those times combined with our perspectives now, communal study, writings of thought leaders, and personal observation and meditation of lives and choices in my story. One of the best things a minister ever told me is that we can never know everything the Bible has to teach us, even if we have the whole Book memorized... because it’s alive and active with human history, always revealing new truths about God’s love and our need to abide in Him as we progress throughout this world. 

• Cultivating — This phase is where we prepare healthy soil, tediously weed annoying and destructive plants that choke the fruit, and give water and nutrients as needed to the growing. This is where personal honesty and getting to know myself are significant. What builds me up? What tears me down? What personal boundaries do I need to become a healthy and productive vessel for Christ’s expression? Why do I keep losing my temper, feeling discouraged, making the same poor choice in similar situations? What can I change? My physical health? My mental/emotional health? What do I need to fight for? What do I need to surrender? This part of my work in the Spirit requires the most daily reflection and application of trial and error. This is where hard work and patience with repetitive tasks are significant... just like those pesky weeds that pop up in the same place they were picked from yesterday. And the most important thing to remember here is that God is okay if we aren’t perfect gardeners. He understands we needs seasons and years to apply the things we slowly learn. He just wants us to spend time in the garden, engaging with Him as we work. 

• Waiting — Sigh. Nothing grows overnight (except weeds). Don’t give up when it seems nothing is happening, just like mighty and barren trees in the winter (that will pass), for you will reap a harvest when spring and summer arrive. (Galatians 6:9)

• Harvesting/Consuming — This is my favorite part of my role in the Spirit’s fruit. Eating it! I feel like self control is the umbrella over all the other fruits for me. Sometimes I need to make better choices in my attitude, and sometimes I need to discipline myself to accept peace and love when my pride would rather storm through not-my-business-to-remove obstacles and prove heroic. This is where I choose patience when my kids take forever getting out the door (again. and again. and again.); it takes *daily repetition* of learning that yelling doesn’t help and it feels awful afterward. This is where I choose joy and make the most of a bad situation I would rather not experience; to get close enough to know others and find the appropriate humor or sorrow or comfort in a place that is sad and tense. This is where I go to a quiet place and find peace when I am overwhelmed and know my only responses will be emotionally irrational behaviors; taking a breather is better than storming through the house griping at everyone. The Spirit puts all these delicious fruits for our taking... and, like some real food that is healthier than others, it may take some getting used to and making mistakes to understand that broccoli (which I actually love now) is going to make me stronger and cleaner than a Sonic blast with M&Ms and Oreos... If I just lost you, this metaphor is for our spiritual well-being, not physical (although I believe the two can aid each other). That was just a metaphor for how patience may be hard to swallow, but in time I have come to realize it makes the Kingdom more pleasant than losing patience about a fleeting moment of lateness (again). 

• Preserving — In this world of seasons, natural times happen when fruit isn’t going to grow because the climate oppresses nourishment and blossoming. The same thing happens to us with changing circumstances. I am learning how to build up strength in times of harvest to carry me through times of winter. This is where my delusions of Spiritual fruit control prove to die hard. I think the Spirit stores good things away in our spirits as we engage with Him through all the times, good and bad, and He pulls the right memories/words/people/situations out of the pantry when we need them most. I can write things down to remember, or keep songs in my head that affect my heart... but I don’t have a lot of answers other than learning to listen for Him in a relaxedly acute way (especially when I call for rescue in desperate winter winds). 2 Cor 4:16-18

• Sharing — Which fruits to share? When people are in my presence, I hope they’ll leave stronger and braver and kinder than before. And that’s how I hope to be after spending time with others. This part requires a lot of practice and forgiveness. Working on self-awareness and analyzing how people may have perceived something I said or did requires a healthy balance of accepting responsibility for how I affect people and surrendering that I can’t control how people feel in their own insecurities. But I can always try to be an empowering and positive presence, instead of a negative or damaging one. Finding ways to be useful and helpful, comforting or encouraging, also requires balancing the sacrifice of selfishness and the wisdom of self-care to build each other up in a God-glorifying way. 

God has invited everyone to a wedding feast, and we, His children, get to help Him prepare the party and bring in the guests. We are very welcomed and cherished children, as we are members of His glorious household. (Ephesians 2:19; Revelation 19:6-9) Looking at the fruits as the product of His creation, as we work together on the celebration, helps me work (and play) more fruitfully. Because I can’t create fruits. And I know I’ll burn my treads trying. 

My Affirmative Take on _The Last Jedi_

Things I loved about The Last Jedi

SPOILER ALERT. Do not read this post unless you (want to) know about the latest Star Wars episode, The Last Jedi.

Writing about Star Wars makes me nervous. Some fans are interested in the special effects, some in the tone of specific characters, some in the advancement of the plot, some in the relationship of each episode to the originals of the late ‘70s/‘80s. The part of each episode, very present in all, that gets the blood of my soul pumping is the conflict between good and evil roiling inside characters and across the galaxy, so I can roll with specific details in a generally optimistic way. If you are the type of Star Wars fan who has a stick up your wormhole, you likely won’t take me seriously. I hope you find relief somewhere in the galaxy! May the force be with you!

• Old Luke — I thought the lines and directed attitude of this old hermit, out-of-touch with anyone or anything except his fears and regrets for years, was spot-on with the stubborn, headstrong young man of decades ago. His perspective of what happened when Kylo Ren destroyed the temple touched me. His heart was damaged by his doubt in his “sister’s child” affecting his nephew in such a way. As a sister and an aunt, that held a lot of weight for me about how and why a Jedi Master would run away and hide when the Dark Side had seized Ben Solo’s heart. And then his interaction with Leia before he faced Kylo Ren on Crait? And then how he handled Kylo’s volatile, childish, untethered wrath, brushing off his shoulder... hahahahaha! I was proud of his last effort. And I really hope the next episode has the spirits of Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan, Anakin, Yoda, and Luke guiding Rey. Please, movie people, please?

• The burning of the tree & texts — This part made me uncomfortable at first. The way everything in our culture becomes a war, instead of a creative stroke of communication toward progress, had me initially worrying that they were saying we should burn the Bible. (Unconnected, illogical cognitive distortion... yup!) But, no-no-no. When Spirit Yoda and Luke had that conversation about what’s inside of Rey moving the next generation past the masters before, I saw so much of Jesus ridiculing the Pharisee’s idolatry of tradition in that moment. And Rey kept all the texts — Did you catch that at the end, in the drawer of the hospital bed? The text IS an important foundation—the tree grows out of it, and out of ashes. I have no idea of the Star Wars writers use the Jedi mythos alongside Christian faith, but I obviously get a lot out of those associations. I know I annoy people. But I know I’m loved anyway. (Cute face with hands framing my chin.)

• The emotions between Kylo and Rey — The way Adam Driver portrays emotional turmoil has me fangirling. The bridge Snoke conjured between the two of them, and the connection they had over their relationship to their parents and the force ... and then the defeat of Snoke, and then Kylo’s deceptive motive ... I was literally jumping in my seat through the feels of triumph and despair. Sigh. Driver and Daisy Ridley did an excellent job with the heart and body of that intense action scene. Can I see it again now, please!? We all have a place we came from. And we all have a choice in where we will go. I can’t decide if I feel disappointed or satisfied that Snoke ended so anti-climactically. Will we gain more perspective about who he was to add depth to his defeat? Or is there meaning in his unexpectedly lackluster end?

•The salt planet, Crait. Did anyone else’s adoration of metaphorically- and aesthetically-pleasing art feel giddy about the war scene on this white planet of salt with red soil bleeding through with every mark made by man or machine (except Spirit Luke)? Wow! I couldn’t get enough of that creativity. And then, to top it off, those crystal foxes, vulptex—these are so much more than just bubble-gummy glitter creatures. Crystal creatures would totally evolve and thrive on a mineral planet. Back off, haters, and think creatively. Or don’t. 

• Admiral Haldo and Rose — I am a big fan of all the female empowerment happening in our culture, even though some specific attention makes me uncomfortable. Because I am also a big fan of male empowerment. Build each other into kinder, more courageous versions of ourselves. All of us. But I loved Laura Dern’s strong, beautiful, aged, courageous, bold-even-in-doubt, purply character. She makes me look forward to 60! And Rose, the adorably strong mechanic with a heart of gold, made me happy too. I also get uncomfortable around animal-rights activism and anti-capitalist agendas, which I felt on Cantonica, the casino planet—but cruelty and greed ARE wrong. Making profits and thriving, or using animals in certain ways, is NOT wrong... but profiteering off war for the sake of greed, and treating animals terribly are not how God made us to use our thinkers and tools. So I talk myself trough that all-or-nothing thinking and find a lot of good progressive messages from Rose’s emotions related to Cantonica. I’m a good little conservative American girl, learning how to grow with the reality of a gray world. Just like Po, those women made me feel like a fighter for good! As do pretty much all the heroes in all the Star Wars episodes.

I could have done without the poor CGI-created creatures, porgs, on Luke’s island. They were unnecessary. I say this as a fan of Ewoks — just stop trying to match them, please. As a currently lactating mother, I actually felt uncomfortable with the sea cow Luke drank from — but Rey’s revulsion helped me deal with my own. Even though I did like getting a glimpse of Leia’s Jedi Powers, I thought her space flight was weird. Less would have been more in that situation. 

And I have been thinking about it... but I think Kylo Ren was lying to Rey about her parents being nothing but drunk junk traders. He was planning to manipulate her. And his weakness is a strong bloodline, so he thought the lure of his own would appeal to her in that choice? She had memories of being left behind on Jakku. And it seems like a spaceship left her there, which sounds different than being neglected by intoxicated junk traders. I dunno. I obviously like the idea that greatness can come from nothing. But I just don’t think her ancestry is a finished mystery yet. And her facing the multiple frames of herself in the reflective surface in that dark pit... I can’t figure that out. Discussion?

On How My Physical Experience Affects Spiritual Discipline

Attending to my physical body is a significant exercise in spiritual discipline for me. Finding the balance in consistent work and recovery, through various life seasons, uncovers my stubborn motivations as I earnestly strive to submit to God’s pace.

My illustration here is a physical one, but I see manifestations of it in other dear hearts:

Single seeking relationship. 
Diseased seeking a cure. 
Unemployed seeking an answer. 
Ignorant seeking awakening. 
Dreaming seeking practicality.
Grief seeking comfort.
Foolish seeking wisdom. 
Sedentary seeking action. 
Bitter seeking peace.

A common condition known as diastasis recti is gaining recognition. Most women who’ve ever been pregnant (as well as men and women who have been overweight) have the split between their abdominal muscles that can affect bladder control, back discomfort, posture, strength, and even lead to dangerous hernias or other issues. The core support God gave us with so many beautifully working muscles has a weak spot in our very-significant-to-all-our-activities trunk. I didn’t even know about it until our second of three sons was almost 2, and I was running intensely on a daily basis, not realizing how my body was damaged. Or, more importantly, how I could help it.

Here’s a pic I took last week of my current belly, after three big boys and lots of intense exercise have affected the surface and the depth of my body. Bellies have all sorts of seasons, huh? I didn’t realize my belly-button could disappear in all the extra scarred skin and the diastasis canyon. Haha:

32-year-old me likes this belly with stories of love, sacrifice, and depth pulled through every mark left by my three boys. Diastasis recti and extra, stretched skin are reminders of glory.

I wear a girdle when I run to support my organs. Lol! About six months ago I consulted a surgeon about repairing the gap because my organs were pushing through during certain exercises, but that kind of surgery is tremendous, so I decided to work on strength first to see if it will restore its function without surgical intervention. All this time later, after multiple attempts to work on the strength, my gap is not any smaller, but the organs are staying inside. Progress! I worked with a physical therapist for a few weeks in October to learn recommended core exercises that will possibly help the muscles come back together. They have sustained a lot of damage, but I am working hard and vigilantly to run nonetheless. 

Multiple setbacks with my tendons have occurred. I am learning how rest is as important to fruitfulness as work. Sigh. If I could take it as slow as I should, instead of trying to be as fast as I was, then I would probably be a lot farther ahead of where I am now, after having to nurse injuries. It’s all an adventurous journey, though, right? Not an endless arrival at success.

The Bible’s words about our inferior plans in the shadow of God’s supreme ones could have helped me handle this hiccup in my plans better than I have (Proverbs 16:9, 19:21...). Our third baby is nine months old. My pregnancy with him came at the rear of an IT band injury that postponed some long-distance running goals of mine. Telling y’all I have handled the interruption with grace would be untrue. Well, I guess GOD’s grace is all over it because of all the exhaustingly tangible transformation taking place inside me as I learn what matters best. But I have not not handled it gracefully. It has taken a lot of humbling (more like "grumbling") denials of my plans to calm my over-ambitious spirit to redirection. And I still fight every second of every day with obsessive worries and trying to do more than I can. This is not just with running, but with a lot of the expectations I desire, as well as the obligations I hate to feel; but running is more socially acceptable (and safer) to share in this way. 

The trust I know I can have in how blessed life will be by the sovereignty I beg God to enact in our details, by the rich blessings He gives that I could never imagine to ask for, are met with a ridiculous amount of resistance from what I think I want or what I think people expect of me.
As long as I am alive, I feel like I’ll be living between my attempted control AND the true freedom God is trying to give me. That’s where my life is happening, where my heart is softening and strengthening, in between the tension of me versus Him. The tension is uncomfortable, but it proves connection and progression, sometimes regression and having to regain balance, but always being aware of where to find traction, constantly learning how to get back up again.

Here’s a poem (shaped like my diastasis recti) to address this spiritual discipline of finding balance in the tension of life’s uncontrollable reality *with* my ability to influence it.

A smooth path, pitless     An impassable abyss, edged

Heeded goals        Ignored requests

Instant pleasure            Ever deprivation

My way                His way

Certain action                    Confused will

Strength                     Weakness

 

Strife, falsely redemptive & mine                    Rest, humbling power from Him

Unintended birthright                      Dislocated joint

A name for myself        All for His Name

A (Literal) Formula for Making Joy Out of Pain

I started this weekly-post-for-three-months-business at the end of October as a way to keep myself writing regularly, with the only rule being to post by no later than Friday. So far, I’ve been ahead of the game. I have been working on a different post over the past few days, but this week exploded in unexpected ways. Instead of pushing the other one where I just can’t get it to go, I’ll accept the circumstances for this time and go with a shorter one that appropriately addresses that very real and usual struggle.

I am a fighter. I strive to make myself and everything around me the way I believe they “should be.” Never content, always seeking improvement, drawn toward this perfect and illusive form I constructed with childhood perceptions and expectations.

Well.

Sometimes that makes for useful motivation toward healthy transformation. 

But.

Other times it results in burning more (useless) effort than I possess. And that takes a toll.

What is the healthy balance between gratitude/presence AND more/growth?

I don’t know. That’s why this is about “the art of my heart,” as I learn through progress rather than insist on nonexistent perfection.

A friend with a psychology background shared a formula with me years ago that I never think to apply until life forces me to surrender. And then I have an “Aha!” moment when striving obviously has negative results, instead of affecting progress.

Pain x Resistance = Suffering

Let’s start with something trivial to illustrate: 

Getting stuck in traffic while running late is the pain (4). Yelling/honking your horn/cussing/complaining, even though those don’t change your status in the traffic, are the resistance (0-10). 

4 x 0 = 0  OR  4 x 2= 8  OR  4 x 4 = 16

The pain will happen. Bad traffic, illnesses, inconvenient timing, other people’s choices. How we react to those can change the amount of needless suffering we experience, which affects the shape of our hearts.

This amounts to accepting where I am, even if i dislike myself or my circumstances. I can’t magically become the wise 70-year-old with myriad wisdom of decades of experiences just because I want to be that woman. I can’t simply escape some of the events that happen in my life and still be part of my life. Work and striving are part of the process in transforming as we suffer, no doubt. But the process cannot be rushed. And forcing growth when we cannot control it stunts it at best and stops it at worst.

We also don’t have to simply disengage in this surrender to presence. The opposite of resistance is support.

So instead of pitching an adult fit in the traffic jam, I can turn on my favorite music and sing along or call an old friend to pass the time. To divert that useless frustration into something more enjoyable will even make me more useful when I finally get to where I need to be.

When all the Christmas plans rearrange my typical routine, I can have fun at the parties and forgo one of my workouts. And I can do it by engaging with loved ones and detaching from worries.

When difficult relationships are part of the holiday plans, I can think of creative ways to interact (board games, shopping, baking cookies), instead of making the gathering an isolating or dreadful experience because of focusing on problems.

When the baby won’t come on his due date, my sister can plan a date with her husband or go to lunch with her friends, instead of sulking at home in an uncomfortable gigantic body.

When my baby gets sick on my newest nephew’s arrival into the world, I can FaceTime my sister and her newborn, engage with them in such a golden age of technological connection, instead of potentially getting precious people sick by going in person or isolating myself in narcissistic complaints. 

Recap: Pain x Resistance = Suffering

And I am even gonna be wild and make my own formula for what I just said about finding ways to support the people and circumstances.

Pain x Support = JOY

How can I not only accept undesirable circumstances but also find a way to invest creativity and bonding energy to make the best of any situation?

It’s 3 a.m. My 9-month-old has salmonella poisoning. [Despair emoji.] He woke more than an hour ago with a 103-degree fever and more bloody poop (which has come by the hour for the past two days—his poor body). I thought about going out to catch up on chores while he went back to sleep beside my husband. But, no! Not to mention how that would exhaust me for whatever tomorrow holds, but it also wouldn’t be as supportive to his recovery as holding my sweet baby while his fever-reducer takes effect and the breastfeeding hydrates his pitiful little system with nourishing nutrients. And I can even work toward my writing goal at the same time. However, when he starts fussing because of his discomfort, I put the writing down and rub his skin... not only does the lesser importance of concentration and hitting the correct keys become interrupted by flailing sweet arms when that happens, but he also needs the physically reassuring touches and phrases to calm him down. His pain (and mine) can become even more draining if I whine that we’re awake (more than usual), or we can have some pleasant bonding as we move through this circumstance at the pace dictated by the bacteria I cannot control (even though I am trying to figure out how to go back in time through worry and prevent the several theories I have for how he caught this bug. [Sad face.]) I am honored to care for him and try to ease his suffering. I am so much better at sleep deprivation than I was 7 years ago with my first son. (So don’t get down on yourself if you read that and hated me. It’s a daily (or nightly) process, not a snap of fingers.) Mutually supportive decisions can be determined in each moment for unique people and changing situations. 

Hopefully some of this makes sense from my wacky brain at this hour. Hahaha!

Make lemonade out of lemons.

Make a dance party out of traffic jams.

Make a FaceTime party out of not getting to visit with loved ones because of illness.

Make cuddles out of interrupted sleep and uncomfortable bodies.

Some of you are experiencing big pain. Maybe you need rest instead of the next step; prayer instead of answers; reaching out instead of decisions; saying no instead of another good deed.

Be blessed, dear ones.