Category Archives: Marriage

Five Minute Friday: Welcome

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I’ve been awake since four and when I finally decided to get up the first thought that came to mind was, “It’s been nine years.” I snuck downstairs and opened my laptop to see what the FMF prompt would be and how it might relate to this anniversary. This is what I found.

I’m a big definitions girl. I like to see a word dissected into smaller words and explained in black and white. When reading the definition of welcome this part caught my eye; used to indicate that one is relieved to be relinquishing the control or possession of something to another. Today, if you ask me what I think of this word as it relates to my relationship with the #1 man in my life, this is what I would say…

Nine years ago today, the man of my dreams vowed to love me forever.
To support me in mind, body and spirit.
To walk with me down whatever path we were led.
To love my daughter as his own.
He welcomed me in a way that no one ever had.
He knew all most of the good, the bad and the ugly.
He saw something that even I could not see.
Maybe I didn’t see it then, but I have gladly relinquished control of my heart into his keeping.
Looking back, I am humbled and delighted at where God has brought us over the last 10 years.
We now have these incredible children. Two of which are boys.
I love seeing Chris with our boys! They try to fill his size 13 footprint, but they are still learning and growing, striving and reaching.
Chris welcomes the challenge of being an exemplary father to our sons.
It is not always easy, but he knows that their feet are quickly catching up to his and one day they will welcome a family of their own.
We welcome this time in our journey when we can watch our children explore and discover.
We welcome another anniversary signaling God’s presence in our lives throughout another year.

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Just like that, a Mother is born

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“The moment a child is born, the mother is also born.
She never existed before.
The woman existed, but the mother, never.
A mother is something absolutely new.”
~Rajneesh

I remember that moment when the first cries were heard and the rush of tasks began to care for a newly born baby. The room seemed to spin around the delivery table where I was still lying. Life would never be the same.

The part one might not know about “giving birth” more than once is that the experience is never like that of the other. I went in feeling as if I had never done it before with each of my children. It’s the strangest and most wonderful thing.

We then take the baby home and do the best we can with what we have to 1. Keep them alive 2. Shower more than once a week and 3. Resemble some semblance of sanity.

As they begin to grow we encourage them to start talking by sounding out words and making ridiculous faces. We motivate them to walk by dangling things just beyond their reach. We urge them to hold a spoon in their chubby little hand and feed themselves, all the while entertained by the fact that more of it is on their face and the surrounding area than in their mouth.

And then the day comes, I can’t tell you exactly when, we start shhh-ing them and telling them to “be still.” We scold them for smacking, avoiding their napkin and dropping food on the floor while not “leaning over their plate.” Weird, right?

Maybe not? If you think about it, it’s just how life evolves. In recovery we compare many of our milestones to that of a child. And we celebrate when we reach them as if celebrating a child’s firsts. It’s crucial for our continued momentum.

Today, Andy Stanley is wrapping up a series called Future Family. I have to be honest, I’m rather sad about it. Each week I have walked away with something applicable that I could start doing. Each week at the close of his message I have desired to be a better wife and mother. Each week I have gained knowledge that I will pass on to my children and hopefully their children. Do you know how huge that is?!

For this girl, who was a mother before I had even figured out how to solely take care of myself and who has made more mistakes than I care to mention, to have someone come alongside me and “teach” instead of condemning me is HUGE.

I’m the girl who learns by trial and error so to find something that works without making a lot of messes beforehand is invaluable to me.

Being a mother is hard. It’s wonderful too, but let’s be honest, that perspective usually comes (especially in the early years) when our little one is sleeping. I depend far too heavily on caffeine most days. Not a day goes by that I don’t have to ask one or more of my children to “please forgive me.” I raise my voice too much, I loathe dusting, I don’t “play” enough, at times I feed my children cereal for dinner, I am completely unorganized and I am incredibly selfish. BUT, if you ask my children if I love them, they would say “Yes.” If you ask them if they know who God is, they would say “Yes.” If you ask them if their mommy and daddy love each other, they would say “Yes.” Those three truths are of the utmost importance to me.

So when I have a conversation with my 14-year-old about some really hard “stuff” that I, personally do not think she should have to worry about yet and I hang up the phone feeling like I know nothing at all. I can ask myself, “Does she know that I love her?” Yes. “Does she know that I want what’s best for her?” Yes. “Does she have her own personal relationship with the God of her understanding?” Yes. “Does He have a plan and a purpose for her life?” Yes.

I don’t know why this topic is on the forefront of my mind? If for no other reason, maybe it’s to encourage you, as a parent, to cut yourself some slack. If you’re a total slacker, maybe it’s to tell you to step it up. What I know for sure is that, my children are a gift and that it’s okay that it’s difficult.

Sandra Stanley said something in the message last week (when accompanying Andy on stage) that I will never forget as it refreshed my perspective on parenting. She said, “The days feel long but the years are short.” Realizing that for me, right now, there is no job on earth more important than being a parent is the mother in me being born and coming to life.

What do you think? Do you love every aspect of being a mother/parent? Is it as difficult for you at times as it is for me?

Looking for great parenting material?
Check these mamas out…
Courtney Defeo blogs at Lil Light O’ Mine She uses truth and humor, grace and love, to navigate her way through motherhood. Check out her site, but be prepared to spend some time as you will keep finding material that you love!

Leanne Penny blogs at Leanne Penny She shares her experience, strength and hope to find joy in the journey. She has an incredible story and you will be better after reading her heart.

Lisa~Jo Baker blogs at The Gypsy Mama She has an extraordinary amount of wisdom that pours out on every page. Her life is not perfect, but she has a unique way of turning trials into triumphs.

Who is God?

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This is the question that my 4-year-old asked on our way home from work today.

There’s nothing like that kind of question to make one realize that they don’t really know the answer.

The question that followed was of equal significance, “Does God love us?”

I have thought many times that I know who God is. Turns out I’m still learning and will hopefully continue discovering for eternity. The answer to the second question is one that I know for certain. Even when chaos abounds and sorrow seems to triumph, “Yes! God loves us!”

Several hours later, I followed the boys upstairs to put them to bed and the conversation picked right back up. “Will there be animals in heaven?” “Are there rules in heaven?” “Is everything gold in heaven?” “Can we buy a Nintendo DS in heaven?” “Do we exercise in heaven?” “Is Jesus in heaven?” “Will I be my same age in heaven?” “What if someone really old dies? How old is too old to be in heaven?”

As the questions came at me, I had to smile. In part because I didn’t know the answers to all of their questions and partly because I love that they are thinking about these things.

Eventually the more difficult questions came. Those that I too wrestle with in the dark when my thoughts are my only companion.

“Mommy, what about your friend who was real sick and died.” said my 4-year-old. “Is she still sick in heaven?”

“No Darling, she isn’t. Elliot is perfectly healed and complete now.” I responded.

“How do you know?” asked my 6-year-old.

(Gulp) Well…I know because…well…because…I believe.

“Mommy. I know a baby in heaven.” said my 4-year-old.

“Which baby do you know in heaven?” I asked.

“Baby Hallie, from Miss Katie.” he responded.

It took me a moment to regain my composure. Katie and I were just talking about Hallie earlier today and what those days were like for her in the midst of uncertainty. It was a miracle that Hallie was born and the fact that she lived several days after was a gift.

“Will there be babies in heaven?” he then asked.

“Yes. I think there will be babies in heaven.” I said.

My 6-year-old chimed in, “If you die, who will be our mommy?”

Thankfully my 4-year-old was too curious to wait for my answer and launched into a new set of “Will ________ be in heaven?”

I continued answering as best I could until finally my 4-year-old said, “Can you sing now? I’m ready to go to sleep.”

I walked away feeling ill-equipped to have these conversations. If anything I caused more questions than I had answers.

I have experienced various seasons in my faith. One thing has held true. If ever there was separation, I was the instigator. If ever there was doubt, I was the first to question. Even now when trying to grasp an understanding of something so big and so far from my ability to comprehend, I find myself thinking, “Is what I believe really true?” If I think too hard or analyze too much, it does seem like the fairytale to rival all fairy-tales. Thankfully I am always snapped back into a realm compatible with my understanding. Jesus.

He was a man. Born a baby. He was grace, truth and incomprehensible love, in the flesh. He chose me. How can I not believe? When it all seems too farfetched and I begin to doubt, I turn my eyes back to Jesus. The tangible God. Is that wrong to say?

Whether one believes in Christ or not, history tells the story of Jesus. So here I sit. In a place where Jesus and faith collide and merge into one big question that my inquisitive little boys want to uncover and dissect. I will answer them the best I can and I will always point them back to Jesus.

I don’t think that God is one to be understood. Why would I want a God who is intelligible by the finite brain? I enjoy the mystery always unfolding. The twists and turns are what make this life interesting. I love viewing life and God through the eyes of a child who has yet to be influenced by the unsolicited feedback of inconsequential onlookers. Not only does it seem clearer, but the answers are not stressful. There is no argument or hostility. When they had talked enough, my little one spoke up and said he was ready to go to sleep.

I want to be more like that.

Dare I ask what your thoughts are on this? Should I open myself up to the obvious ridicule of possible responses? I think yes. Why not?

I’ll have…an overwhelmed June Cleaver with a side of crazy, please.

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“Oh, June. With your pearls and your 19 inch waist, in your polished beige heals, fryin’ it up in a pan to have on the table when Ward, Wally and the Beave get home. How did you do it, June?! How did you hold it all together? (Is that a pill bottle I see by the cookie jar? Or maybe the pill bottle IS the cookie jar. Nice cover!)”

Being a wife and mother is hard difficult virtually impossible left to my own devices. Thankfully God knew this and makes it clear that I am not alone when that affirmation is needed the most. For the record, I’m not feeling any affirmations from June. I bet she was drinking straight gin from the freezer between takes! And who can blame her?!

I step over a growing mound of laundry to sit in my “writing chair” and purge my day of mental processing, I stare at the laundry and remember the fact that I need to vacuum….thank you notes need to be written…emails need responses…Bella is leaving again tomorrow…the lump comes up in my throat and that old familiar feeling of being overwhelmed attempts to settle in. Why does this happen?

I don’t think men have the incessant thought pattern that we women have. From the time I get up in the morning, the thoughts come pouring in. Hot off the presses from my unconscious mind to the conscious mind, continuing throughout every moment of every day.

It is imperative to start my day with 3 things; God, Quiet, and Coffee. If I miss anyone of those I’m setting myself up for failure, but especially the first one. It must look something like this for me…breathe in God, breathe out God (repeat), dwell on God and his promises (without ceasing), speak God into every circumstance…all God all the time. If not, my ego will sneak in and screw everything up.

For those of you who are parents, maybe you can relate, for those who aren’t, consider this mental preparation for the day you might someday become one. By nature, we are selfish creatures. Some of us more than others. I have to make a conscious effort to invite God into my day or I tend to leave him at home, waving good-bye as I speed away in the minivan with my praise music blaring. (It’s hard to yell at your children with praise music on. Yay for preemptive steps.)

What I’ve learned is that God does not force himself on me. He’s a gentleman. Sure he can be intense and fierce, but in my day-to-day he tends to wait for me to approach the throne of grace. “Why?” you ask. Because there is just something in the effort of me taking the initiative. When I don’t approach the throne of grace, opening my hands to survey those things thought to be of the utmost importance, I will keep my fingers tightly closed, missing all of the things that are waiting to be poured into them. I don’t want to do that! And yet, I still do it. Do you see my dilemma?

It’s me!!! I am my own dilemma!!! “Why not just fix it then?” you ask. Because I’m stubborn and doubtful and slow to change. The world screams at me in every way that if I’m not doing this, wearing that, volunteering there, eating these, I’m doing it all wrong.

I have a couple of different choices in this situation, I can continue to beat myself up with how I’m never going to win be nominated for “Mother of the Year” or I can turn to the voices of truth that refresh my soul and renew my mind. Like these gals…

I opened a recent post from my friend Courtney over at Lil Light O’ Mine where she was writing about her precious Ella not wanting to wear glasses because no one else her age does and everyone asks her about them. Courtney’s answer was beautiful and exactly what I needed to hear today. (Sometimes it helps to talk to me like I’m a Kindergartener, especially when I’m acting like one!)

Another awesome chick whose every word I hang on is Joy Phenix. Not just because she has an awesome name, but because she doesn’t pretend to have it all together, even though I think she’s one of the most stellar women on the planet. She writes over at Joy: Defined and one of my favorite posts is her take on the unattainable “balance” in life. She recommends working on your life “blend.” You can read all about it by clicking here.

My mentor is another irreplaceable gift in my life. Pam started a blog recently though she has been writing, speaking and coaching for years. I look forward to her posts as I can hear her beautiful southern accent through the page. It leaves me with a hankerin’ for sweet tea every time.

Who is that person for you? Do you have a person? If not, you can borrow mine until you find one or forever. These ladies have more wisdom and insight than they will ever be able to give away. They continue to grow and stretch themselves everyday in new ways. That’s what I want to be doing…growing and stretching. So when I have days filled with “mommy time-outs” I will rejoice in the gifts that are my children and I will thank God for the blessing of strong beautiful women who remind me that I’m not alone on this journey and that “perfect” may as well be a four letter word.

Awesome Resource at your fingertips! The one and only, Andy Stanley is in the middle of the series, Future Family. It is so great. Click here to watch the messages and print discussion questions. (You can thank me later, cause you’ll want to!)

Pardon me while I compare my insides to your outsides

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© Joy Cannis and Even A Girl Like Me, 2012

While shooting pictures yesterday for something unrelated to birds on a wire, I turned around and saw this site that had to be captured. It goes right along with how I have been thinking and feeling. It was as if it was placed there just for me and all I had to do was look up.

I laughed while thinking, “I wonder if this bird ever looks around and thinks, ‘Why don’t I look like they do?'” You have to admit, he kind of stands out. Do you think he sees his uniqueness as a blessing?

My temperament is one that craves relationships and interaction with many different people. I invest heavily in the lives of those I love and enjoy doing so. However, when I am experiencing inward turmoil I want to retreat and be quite. Lately, while going through certain stress I have been unable to withdraw which forces me to interact with others when I am out of sorts. This can be disconcerting.

In the past couple of weeks I have found myself looking around and thinking, “How does she do that?!”

“How does she work full-time, grocery shop during the week, run her children back and forth from soccer practice, gymnastics and piano, keep her house clean, volunteer at her church, serve on the PTA and have dinner waiting when her significant other returns from work? And what about doctors appointments in between and the unexpected illness?”

So tell me ladies, are you one of these women? If so, are you really doing everything that it appears you’re doing? Do you have hidden super powers? Are you saying affirmations in the mirror multiple times throughout the day to keep up the pace?

Most days, I feel more like this chick…
I can relate to the white bird on the wire. Sometimes I feel that my uniqueness is a gift and adds to my awesomeness. Other times I see it as a hindrance and something to be overcome. Here is what I know about feelings, they are constantly changing. Feelings in and of themselves are not to be trusted. So I must rely on truth, grace and the love that I know to be unchanging.

What are your thoughts? Am I way off base or do you know exactly where I am coming from on this?

Intimacy ~ It’s not what you think

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What is the first thing that came to mind when you read the title of this post? For me, it’s sex. The truth is, intimacy is so much more than that.

After conversing with people from all walks of life, it’s incredibly clear that there is a real disconnect when it comes to intimacy, sex and being vulnerable.

This is something worthy of discussion. And not just once or twice. Ongoing. Admittedly it’s a tricky subject. I don’t want to make any career altering statements and at the same time I want you to understand that it’s not about where you’ve been as much as where you are.

Women, I don’t know what you’ve grown up hearing about sex, but here is what I know to be true…
It doesn’t have to be dirty.
It’s possible to relinquish everything that has happened and start fresh.
Nothing feels as good as redemption.
When you give yourself permission to stop sorting through the wreckage, you discover a new kind of freedom.

Men, don’t treat us like a whore. We don’t want to feel replaceable and when we look amazing, TELL US.

I cannot say everything I want to say. Nor explain in detail where my heart is on this because, quite honestly, it wouldn’t be pertinent to everyone and there are things in my relationship with my man that are just ours. Sacred things that allow us to look across a crowded room at each other, confident that we are fully known.

Love in it’s purest form. Transparency without limitations. Trust beyond comfort. The unalloyed definition of relationship. A safe haven. A source of life and freedom. Being pursued and overtaken by someone who wants every part of you, and you them. Heart, mind, body, past and present. That is intimacy.

If you are in a committed relationship and you are not able to do this, something is missing. I didn’t say, “Something is wrong.” I said, “Something is missing.” Marriage is your golden ticket to “get your freak on.” Not in a crazy sadistic sort of way, but in a fun, exploratory sort of way.

If you don’t believe me, If you are someone who can’t even be naked in your own presence without shame and embarrassment, I would encourage you to start with the following…
Stop making small talk or expecting a long conversation before being physical. When you are at a level of true intimacy, it’s possible and at times more beneficial to communicate without using words.
Be comfortable in your skin. It’s okay to be naked with the lights on.
DO NOT, under any circumstance, discuss perceived flaws of your physique.
Learn about your body. We are complex creatures. It doesn’t go down the way it’s depicted in movies. It’s better!

Now, go send your hunka burnin’ love a suggestive text message… even if you’re right next to them. It may be their go-to while sitting in that budget meeting tomorrow at work.

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Mixed Blessings

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The word “Mixed” by definition means; containing a mixture of both favorable and negative elements. While the word “Blessing” means; a beneficial thing for which one is grateful; something that brings well-being. I have had a bit of experience with mixed blessings. You?

I hear interesting conversations about in-laws. Sometimes I think that they were put here to make holidays stressful. When discussing this sensitive subject with several girlfriends I asked how different their lives would be if they didn’t have a mother-in-law. This brought a smile to most of their faces. (If you’re a mother-in-law who’s already feeling offended, just hang with me.)

I then asked how it would change things had they never met their husband’s mother. They agreed that they have learned a great deal about their man from talking with his mother.

The truth is, I have never met my mother-in-law. We talked on the phone when I was a teenager, but she passed away before I was able to sit down and share in conversation over a cup of coffee or give her a hug and breathe in her unique smell that would later bring her to memory when a passerby was wearing the same scent. I was not able to ask her how she survived being a full-time working single mother.

When Chris and I were apart for a time I would have dreams about Lou Ann. We would be sitting in a cafe having conversations about life. I would wake up the next morning with her on my mind and throughout the day I felt a closeness to her.

Weird, I know. Especially for someone I had never even met. Eventually the relentless persuasion of thoughts to write Christopher a letter about his mother, whom he loved dearly and I had never met, led me to a pen and paper. My hand could not move as quickly as the words formed in my mind.

Suddenly, I was speaking of this woman I had never known as if we had been in each others company on a regular basis. I explained in the letter that I knew it sounded crazy, but there were things I felt she would want him to know. I then held on to it.

The next time I was in New York Chris and I had dinner and talked about our lives over the last couple of years. I nervously gave him the letter knowingly that he would probably think I was nuts. I asked him not to read it until the day I left. It was April 17th, two years to the day that his mother had passed away. I was not aware of that at the time.

Many things have fallen into place between then and now. Things I never dreamed possible. All I have of Lou Ann are a few photos and the memories that Chris shares with me.

She was an Educator. Brilliant. Beautiful. Strong. She was a fighter. A Survivor. She is my husband’s mother. Isn’t she stunning?

I was never able to ask her about Chris’ childhood…when he cut his first tooth or if he tried to climb out of his crib the way our oldest son did.

“What was his first word?” “When was the first time he tried rice cereal?” “Did he like sweet potatoes as much as my boys did?”

“What was his favorite lullaby when he awoke afraid in the middle of the night?” “Did she rock him to sleep?” “When was his first haircut? Did she cut it or take him somewhere to have it cut? Did he scream the way our youngest does?” “Did he have a favorite blanket or toy?” “How old was he when he took his first step?” “When did he lose his first tooth?” “What was his favorite thing to do?” “Do our boys look like him?” “Do they have the same mannerisms?” “When did he skin his knee for the first time?” “What is your favorite memory from his childhood?” “Has he always loved to draw and create?”

A vital question I wish I could have asked before going into labor with our first son is,
“How big was Chris’ head when he was born?” and “How long was your labor?”

So many questions unanswered. So many moments missed that I know she would have cherished.

Our children know her as “Lulu.” And as far as they’re concerned, heaven is filled with balloons released from their little hands while blowing kisses to the sky.

It’s been some time since I have found her on the other side of sleep, waiting in a cafe, to talk about my boys and compare notes over coffee and hot tea, I can only hope that I will find her there again sometime.

I am incredibly grateful to her for taking care of the love of my life. For making sure that he was provided for and prepared to face a world of both disappointment and triumph, ugliness and beauty.

I know, in-laws can be rather challenging (to say the least.) But they can also be a wonderful resource into the things that made our spouse who they are today. They are much like, “mixed blessings.”

I would love to hear your thoughts on extended family. What’s the craziest thing that has ever happened at a “family” event or around your diner table? Do you get along with your mother-in-law?