I’m a hypocrite

Posted on September 19, 2012 by Joy

Some days… when standing before my reflection stripped of everything… motives, guilt, expectations, past images, I can honestly look at my body and speak the words of Psalm 139 with great certainty.

There are other days when I stand before the mirror and wonder whose body I’m trapped in and when the merger occurred. I look at my curves as too curvy. My hair appears dull. My laugh lines are deep and obvious. My image is distorted.

These are the times when the Father whispers my name, “Chosen one. Beloved daughter. I have called you by name. You are mine.”

I used to have such a hard time with the phrase, “Beauty is on the inside.” I felt like everyone I heard say it was unattractive and used it to self-soothe. (Mean and judgmental, I know.) Interesting how perspective changes when inner beauty is realized in others and strived for in oneself. It is much more difficult to acquire, maintain and increase than outward beauty. It is the great reminder that this “shell” is temporary. Appearance is fleeting. What’s on the inside will indeed show through…eventually.

I have found it fascinating how the inside begins seeping through the eyes and the smile. The mannerisms and responses. The posture and tone. I know several women over the age of 55 who have a rare beauty that a 20-year-old doesn’t even know to wish for and certainly could not understand. My perception of beauty now differs greatly from when I was 20 or even 26. I don’t think it can adequately be defined. It’s like trying to wrap ones mind around “forever.” It simply cannot be done.

Truth be told, twelve years of abuse to one’s body doesn’t just go away. I know that eating disorders in general are a phenomenon to many. For those of us walking through it, it could not be more real. Some days I wonder if I will ever have a healthy relationship with food. I wonder when I will stop wanting to bend over and vomit every time something passes my lips. I wonder when I will stop trying to force my curves into straight leg jeans. I don’t know?

What I do know is that when I stand up in front of your daughters and mothers, sisters, girlfriends, wives and friends and tell them that God made them with a purpose in mind and we should embrace the body he has created for us, I better be living what I’m speaking.

Some days I do. There are days when I have too much confidence. Those who know me well would attest to that. On the days when I’m not appreciating my laugh lines, the curve of my hips or the scar on my belly (that provided a safe delivery for our son) I remember the verse that I have given out to so many women and girls. “I thank you, High God—you’re breathtaking! Body and soul, I am marvelously made! I worship in adoration—what a creation!” Psalm 139:14

I am not the crease in my brow or the lines encompassing my eyes. I am not the stomach lacking definition or the thighs that will never fit into a size 4 again. I am not the arms that hide from sleeveless shirts or the ~~boobs~~ chest that is, at times, less than manageable. I am not the chin that is no longer well-defined or the insipid, brown hair on my head. The fact that more things jiggle when I walk than I would like, does not decrease my value or deflect me from my purpose. All of these things make up my physique, but they no longer define me.

I am a child of God. Made in his image. Created with great purpose and craftsmanship. I am his masterpiece. Dearly beloved. Beautiful in his sight. Purchased with his blood. Worth dying for.

And darling, so are you.

Do those come in elastic waist? (joycannis.wordpress.com)
What Makes a Mother Beautiful? Stylish Women Answer (bellasugar.com)
Altogether Lovely | the be.loved blog (northoflove.wordpress.com)

Prayer for Grace and Serenity

Posted on September 18, 2012 by Joy

Who is God?

Posted on September 13, 2012 by Joy

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?

What does Hope look like?

Posted on September 9, 2012 by Joy

I am so excited to be sharing this story with my readers. It is one that has been on my heart since I first discovered it.

Many of you have heard of Sole Hope. For those of you who haven’t, I would like to introduce them to you today.

This is not a ploy to get your money. It is a conversation starter to make you aware of what is happening, maybe not in our country, but in our world. It is to shed light on something happening to little ones who cannot help themselves. It is in hopes that you will tell others and share what Hope looks like in the form of human beings dedicating their lives to eradicate a seemingly insurmountable problem.
The following video contains graphic images that may be disturbing to some. Please use discretion when viewing and allowing young children to view.

The first time I saw this video it made me want to know more. I had never even heard of jiggers. I read everything I could on the Sole Hope website and blog. I have to be completely honest, I became physically sick while reading and watching what these children are enduring day in and day out because they lack something that I ~~often~~ always take for granted. Shoes.

Asher, as a wife and mother of two (with a third on the way), decided she couldn’t wait for “someone else” to step in. She had to take action. That is how Sole Hope was born. One woman who had a choice either to ignore what she had seen or follow a calling to be a world changer.

I know for me personally, I don’t realize what my feet, or any part of my body for that matter, does until I can’t use it. Many of the children with jiggers in their feet are completely immobilized and confined to their home. Many don’t have parents or caregivers. Many will die.

This is a precious one whose foot is infested with jiggers. Gross right?! I beg you not to look away. This is about the size of one of my children’s feet. If this was my child, it never would have gotten to this point. I would have taken him to the pediatrician long before it was this bad. They do not have that option.

Now rewind. What if this child was wearing shoes. Not the latest athletic shoe, just enough of a shoe to act as a barrier between them and this parasite? What if this preventable affliction was expunged completely? What if you were part of that? What if you didn’t dismiss it with the thought, “Someone else will do it.” or “I already have my charities mapped out for the year.” Please hear me when I say that this is about so much more than money.

Of course they need financial support, but there are also many other ways that you can step in and make a difference in a huge way.

One way is by being a Sole Hope Ambassador in your area. Sole Hope Ambassadors are people who are pumped about Sole Hope and want to help spread awareness in their own community. This is a volunteer opportunity with perks. If you are interested and want more information click here.

Another way is by featuring these adorable shoes in your store, online, or by purchasing them for the favorite little ones in your life. When people ask you what they are (and they will), be ready to tell them.

You can also host a shoe cutting party. For more information, email Info@solehope.com or call 855.516.4673.

I know this is a lot of information. In an effort to allow you time to process what you have read and seen, we will continue the discussion tomorrow with a Q&A from myself, Asher and Drü. I asked the questions I most wanted to know and thought that you too would want to know. Questions like, “What sets you a part from every other organization with a heart for Africa?”

Make sure you come back tomorrow for the rest of the story and a downloadable PDF with useful information.

“These feet are waiting for me…and that keeps me moving on the days when I feel tired and don’t want to do much.” ~ Asher

*all media was taken from the Sole Hope Facebook page. Go check it out. And while you’re there, click the “Like” button.
Follow them on Twitter

Oh my soul

Posted on September 6, 2012 by Joy

Today started out like any other.
Get up.
Make coffee.
Eat breakfast.
Wake the boys.
Make lunches.
Go back upstairs to get the boys up.
Pack their backpacks.
Yell from downstairs for the boys to come eat or go to school hungry.
Go back upstairs.
Get dressed.
Go back downstairs to ensure the boys are eating and hurry them along getting dressed.
Get on our way to school and work (after a few other steps).

And then…out of nowhere….there she is…filling my thoughts.
The clouds in the sky, the sun hitting the early morning pavement. All of it reminds me of my friend who passed away only a few short months ago.

I think of Wyatt, her son, on his first day of school. He’s in 1st grade…just like my son. His daddy packed a picture of his mom in his backpack to show his friends. He looks just like her.

I smile at the picture of Bradford as she holds her teacher’s hand on her first day of preschool. She’s so beautiful in her blue dress with her blond hair pulled back and backpack on one shoulder.

I want to scream and cry and pound my fists on the ground. When I think of how badly she wanted these precious children and how she went to any lengths to give them life, I want to vomit at my hypocrisy and how nonchalantly I became pregnant even when I didn’t want to be (or so I thought). All that I took for granted and still do. All of it is put into perspective when I think about her.

Elliot passed away on a Monday in May and ever since then I have carried around letters for Wyatt and Bradford. Letters that I intend to send everyday, but never do. Letters that talk about the beautiful person that their mother is and how she not only showed love, but also lived it. Letters that make me weep just thinking about little hands opening them up to read.

Today…I’m not okay. I feel all knotted up inside.
Today, my heart breaks for a young husband aching for his wife and two beautiful children with only memories of their mother.
Today, the world is cold, and its demands relentless.
Today, the sun is hidden by the clouds and I want to close the blinds and stay inside.

I miss my friend and all of the time we didn’t have because of all the time I thought we had.

Posts written while walking through Elliot’s journey:
Girl of little faith…Why do you doubt?
When Cancer is no longer a Stranger
When the monster returns, Thy will be done
A Father’s Love
In the midst of the storm
A Tribute to Elliot
Saying Goodbye
21 Days Later
Finding God on the Farm
Five Minute Friday: Beyond
No more pain
Memorial Fund

Wednesday Wanderings: Sons

Posted on September 5, 2012 by Joy

“As the mother of a son,
I do not accept that alienation from me is necessary for his discovery of himself.
As a woman, I will not cooperate in demeaning womanly things
so that he can be proud to be a man.
I like to think the women in my son’s future are counting on me.”
~ Letty Cottin Pogrebin ~