Tag Archives: Happily Ever After

Releasing me

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© Joy Cannis and Even A Girl Like Me, 2012.

Fear doesn’t have to be a bad thing. It can be a great motivator for change. It’s when we stop moving that the fear catches up and attempts to overtake us.

It’s when we lose faith that all hope appears lost as well.

When our shadow becomes bigger than our God, we are headed for certain doom.

What is the solution?

For me, it’s about surrender. Relinquishing control on a daily, sometimes hourly basis. Opening my hands as a sign of my willingness to release what I am holding, in an effort to accept the blessings that await me.

They don’t always appear as expected, sometimes arriving in the form of pain. However, as I have seen time and time again, blessings are often the reward of difficulties endured.

So keep going. If you’re in the middle of hell, don’t stop. Just put one foot in front of the other while breathing in the divine strength of the moment and exhaling the toxic fumes of discouragement and doubt.

You were created for so much more.

 

What will tomorrow’s yesterday reveal about me?

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After saying, “Happy Birthday!” A friend asked me, “Do you feel another year younger?”

“No.” I replied. “After the stress of the past few weeks I actually feel older.”

His question got me thinking. “Is one incredibly challenging week capable of aging me a year?!” Am I going to look at this birthday as another year gone or as 365 days of endless possibilities before me?

The happenings within 48 hours were powerful enough to change my warped perception of my circumstances and future. This year I found answers in the gifts. Maybe not how you would think? Allow me to explain.

The night before my actual birthday, we had dinner in with two of our close friends.

That is an actual lippy beside it on the left for scale.

Jill‘s gift is one that I will forever keep in a place where I can look at it frequently as it makes me laugh out loud while reminding me that it’s okay to need a little sparkle in your life. It’s okay that I’m known for my love of lippy.

And since I know you’re wondering, the answer is “Yes.” It lights up!

This will forever serve as affirmation that no matter who comes down on me for who I am, my job is to be a light in the world…with a splash of color.

I woke up on the morning of the 18th with no plans for the day. I went to check voice mail and there was my beautiful Bella’s voice at 12:01 a.m. leaving a message to say that she wanted to be the first one to wish me happy birthday. She was! The thing that struck me most about this is
1.) She is 14 yrs. old and stereotyped as completely self-absorbed.
2.) She was intentional about letting me know she cared.
3.) It is a great reminder to me that kindness does not have to cost money.
I will be saving that message until my phone kicks it out.

Early afternoon the doorbell rang. When I opened the door there was an enormous arrangement. I tried to pick it up but it was too heavy. After Chris carried it inside and placed it at eye level, I stared, enamored with its beauty. It is absolutely breathtaking, releasing sweet aromas better than fine perfume. Sent from my sisters, mom and niece, it is a reminder that there is so much beauty around me on a daily basis. At times, it is too heavy for me to hold.  If only I could freeze it just as it is so that when the world issues its criticisms I am reminded that beauty outweighs malice every time.

Late afternoon one of my favorite people in the world came over. Tara knows me well. I asked if I could open the bag in her hand as soon as she walked in. “Of course!” she said. It was stuffed with tissue, just the way I love and as I began throwing the tissue and reaching into the bag, I was reminded of the things that were stifled only days before. Creativity, Learning and Growing. The bag held in it, a photography book for the student I have become, a journal for the writer that I am, a set of 4 different colored pens of glitter gel for the absolute delight that I find when the glitter falls from the page ending up on my hands, face and clothes. A water bottle, representing sustained energy, dark chocolate for the happy endorphins that are sure to follow shortly after consumption and a beautifully colored scarf complete with sparkles, of course.

By the end of the day I had seen 3 sky crosses. They are Elliot’s favorite and I search the sky continually in hopes of seeing one. I don’t think this was a coincidence. The sky was literally filled with them. I had to smile when looking up and thinking of my friend and her love of these acknowledgements from the Creator. It was a beautiful birthday wish.

Those who sent cards, gift cards and…well…cash (thanks dad!) know me just as well. They know that for me having the freedom to buy something with money that someone else has given me has a thrill all its own.

And how could I not mention my Christopher? Without whom I would have gone off the deep-end long ago. He swoops in at a moments notice and turns my catastrophe into a manageable task. He has saved me from myself time and time again, but most recently from the words of defeat that I am so quick to tell myself. The spiritual, emotional and mental gifts that he lavishes on me are far greater and worth so much more than any possession he purchases. (Though I do love my camera gear.) A man who will fight for your mental, spiritual and emotional well-being as well as physical, is one you cannot put a price on. His value is far greater than any measurable standard.

There is something about being known. I don’t mean when someone with a great deal of influence remembers my name and acknowledges my existence. I’m talking about lamps shaped like lipstick and bags filled with the things that would tell much of my story without me ever saying a word.

So, here’s to the next 365 days of endless possibilities before me. No matter what they bring may I see them as blessings. Some blatant while others disguised, blessings nonetheless.

When the silence is deafening

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I pull into the garage slowly, being careful not to knock the side mirrors off. Though I have done this multiple times a day for six years I still have a tendency to nick the mirrors. I push the button to close the door behind me as quickly as possible. The boys have their headphones on and are watching the ninja movie for the umpteenth time. I look at the empty passenger seat beside me and it sets in. She’s gone…again.

As much as I love the fall season, I also dread what it means. Summer comes and goes, taking with it the bulk of my time with Bella. Chaos ensues with schedules, school and the many other demands that follow everyday life. As I sit in the car, staring through the windshield at the door leading into the house, I say in a whisper, “I don’t want to go inside and face the silence.” I don’t want to walk into her room to gather towels and sheets to wash knowing that her presence is no longer there. The silence is deafening.

Realizing that the tears are inevitable, I get the boys settled and head up to my room. Sitting down on the floor and looking up through the window at the blue sky, my prayer is one of hesitancy as I open my fists, in faith, relinquishing control.

“Lord, here we are again. In this place where words do not give adequate meaning to the void. How long will the sadness last this time? Will it be weeks or months? Will it be bearable? Will I be able to perform the daily tasks required of me? Father, I’m tired. I don’t want to go back out into the world. I want to stay here, on this floor. Allowing the carpet beneath me, the ceiling above me and the walls around me to act as tangible support, compensating for my lack of faith. I wish to withdraw from everyone and everything. You have already seen the week ahead. Father, I don’t even know how I am going to do everything I need to do in the time allotted and to add a heavy heart on top of it… It’s too hard.”

This verse came to mind.
“Don’t be afraid, I’ve redeemed you.
I’ve called your name. You’re mine.
When you’re in over your head, I’ll be there with you.
When you’re in rough waters, you will not go down.
When you’re between a rock and a hard place,
it won’t be a dead end—
Because I am God, your personal God,
The Holy of Israel, your Savior.
I paid a huge price for you:
…That’s how much you mean to me!
That’s how much I love you!
I’d sell off the whole world to get you back,
trade the creation just for you.”
Isaiah 43:1-4 (The Message)

So for today, in this moment, I will close Bella’s bedroom door and tend to the many other household responsibilities. I will be grateful and smile when I think of the conversations and time together we’ve had over the last few weeks. I will thank God for the ache, knowing that it makes the reunion all the more sweet.

I will meet tomorrow’s demands, tomorrow. Embodying the truth, today, that God always shows up on time and gives me the strength I need, when I need it.

Maybe you need to read this verse everyday too. Here is your downloadable copy You are mine

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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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Anyone…anyone

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I was talking with a beautiful friend the other day about ghosts from the past. I have a few, as does she. Some of hers are just louder than mine.

She had been in conversation with a family member just hours before who had used the term “damaged goods” when referring to her. As she spoke the words through tears, I felt rage welling up in my spirit and showing itself all over my face.

Seeing the color of my cheeks change she added, “Joy, it really isn’t a big deal.”

“That is where you are wrong, darlin’. It is a very big deal. You are far from damaged.”

She cut my response short, “No, I kind of am. I would say it’s an accurate description.”

At this point in the conversation I had a couple of options. I could begin ranting about what a ridiculous self-assessment this girl was making or I could speak the truth in love. Please keep in mind that it infuriates me when someone allows another human being, mortal, flesh and blood, to strip them of their identity in Christ. What shakes me to my core is when that individual doing the stripping is a mother or other guardian who has been entrusted with shaping the life of someone else.

Thankfully I chose the latter of the two options.

“Here’s the deal, sugar. We all have things that can be categorized under the label ‘damaged.’ No one is worse than another. They are equal. Yours may look different from mine, but in God’s eyes, they are the same.” As these words were coming out of my mouth, I thought, “Do I believe this? Does my path of destruction look the same as what ‘church goin’, conservative clothes wearin’, orphan savin’, never kissed a boy, doesn’t sin unless by absolute accident, savin’ herself for marriage, non tattooed/pierced/scarred‘ girl’s destruction? Do I truly believe that? Hmmmm…I don’t think I do. Well, maybe I do. I hope I do. Sometimes…on a Tuesday…when the sky is blue…and cloudless…and all the planets are in line, I do.”

I had to come clean. “You know, it’s a difficult concept to fathom. At times I have trouble grasping it myself. But I know it’s true, because Jesus said it and He doesn’t lie.” We both agreed that neither of us could refute Jesus’ words.

As we left each others company that afternoon the wheels were turning in my mind. God is always on time, yes? This morning, Rodney Anderson spoke at Buckhead church. He took a passage from Luke 18 and explained it in such a comprehensive and applicable way.

He was talking about this very thing! Comparing and thinking better of oneself and praying as if God takes out His list to make sure we are worthy of being listened to. It doesn’t happen that way. It’s an awesome message that you can watch by clicking here.

He wrapped everything up with John 19:30 when Jesus said, “It is finished.” There is no longer a need for another human being, a middle man (if you will) to do our bidding for us. Jesus was the ultimate sacrifice and the comparing, accusing, condemning, rejecting was over. Now, whenever God looks at you and at me, He sees us through the eyes of His son, Jesus, who was and is the ultimate sacrifice for my “destruction.” And as Rodney explained so perfectly today, “That’s good news.”

Be encouraged. No matter the size of devastation along the trail you have blazed, Jesus is enough. He paid it all. Your ransom, my ransom has been PAID IN FULL.

Need a visual reminder? Click here

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?

A letter…to myself

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I wrote this back in November. Many of you have already read it. After several asks about “The Letter” I decided to re-post it. So, if you have already read it, read it again. Maybe you will find something that wasn’t there before. If you haven’t, maybe it will serve you in a way that you needed today.

Writing letters to myself or to those with whom I can no longer speak, is nothing new to me. I have not done it in quite some time, but it’s not a new concept. Therapists, institutions, sponsors and spiritual advisers have been using it for years.

For months I have been thinking about what I would say to my 13 year old daughter, Isabella. Not about very specific things, but about life in general. The overall picture. What it looks like when there are several chapters and one can flip back through the pages.

I have been completely stumped.

She and I talk about everything. I do not sugarcoat or hold very much back with her. I want her to know what the world is like without paralyzing her with fear. I want her to be armed with knowledge so that she has the necessary tools when things arise.

I want her to grasp that God is loving and forgiving. And at the same time know that there are decisions one can make that will carry a heavy price and be with you for the rest of your life.

It was not until about a week ago that it occurred to me to write the letter to myself.

The picture is one that I chose my first year in sobriety when my sponsor told me to think of how old I was when I abandoned my true self.

She told me to put it in a beautiful frame and place it beside my bed and every morning when I woke up and every night before I went to bed, I was to say to that little girl, “I’m sorry I abandoned you all those years ago. I’m here now and I am picking up your hand and will walk through this with you.”

I thought she was crazy, but I did it.
I did whatever she told me to do because I was desperate and fighting for my life.

She had been sober for more than 24 hours so I knew she had something that I didn’t.

Now, more than 9 years later, I can understand exactly why she had me do this exercise and why she made me make my bed and tell the truth about absolutely everything as I would have lied about things as simple as, “Did you brush your teeth this morning?”

The picture is no longer by my bed. It has been tucked away in a drawer where I can look at it whenever needed, but I don’t feel the need to apologize to the little girl staring back at me.

So here is my humble attempt at giving myself advice…if I could…which of course I can’t…but I can give it to Bella, when I have the courage. What she does with it is entirely up to her.

Dear Joy,

If you remember nothing else except this one paragraph, you will be okay.
It’s this, God is good, all the time, even when it doesn’t feel like it. He has a plan and purpose for your life. It will have very little to do with outward appearance and everything to do with your heart, mind and spirit, which I believe encompass your soul.

I know that you are only a child, but if you will take these things I am going to tell you and trust them as if your life depended on it, you will look back with fewer regrets, less sorrow and more fulfillment.

Learn all you can. Keep your mind open to the beautiful things that God puts in front of you everyday. Find a scripture that you love, it can be one sentence, memorize it and hide it away in your heart. When the world begins to tell you lies, and they will, quickly bring it to the forefront of your mind and bathe in it’s truth.

Know that, though your parents are far from perfect, they are doing the best they can with what they have including the knowledge they have been given. There will be times when you don’t understand their decisions or rulings, but just know that there is a reason that many years ago God was telling children to respect their father and mother.

Ultimately, you are accountable to God and no one else. However, until you are of age to understand this concept and use it in a wise way, you will sit under the authority of your parents.

Don’t get so caught up in appearance. Honestly, looks fade and eventually what you have on the inside begins to show more than what you look like on the outside. There is a transparency of sorts that happens over time that is beyond your control and if you have not been nurturing your spirit, you will not reflect the light of the Father as you are capable of doing.

Boys are going to notice you. You will not be ready emotionally for this kind of attention. This is when you take shelter under the authority of your parents. You may not agree with everything they say, but there is protection from things that you have yet seen.

If you remember whose you are, you will remember who you are.

There will come a time when you feel lost. That’s okay. Again, this will probably happen while you are still under the authority of your parents. They won’t understand. That’s okay too. This is when you can begin to build a solid relationship with your Heavenly Father. It is in this time, He will be the only one who understands.

You don’t have to abuse your body by restricting food or overusing substances. Your body truly is a temple. The Holy Spirit lives in you and though this is your earthly shell, you will have it for some time and how well it runs is up to you.

You do not have to give yourself away. I don’t just mean physically. I mean mentally and emotionally as well. If you could pour all of the energy that you use seeking approval from others, into learning and owning what the Father thinks of you, you will build an unshakeable foundation.

Life does not come without difficulties. If someone tries to tell you otherwise, run as far and as fast as you can away from them.

There will be pain. When the pain comes, the thing that will serve you most is your faith in Christ. Knowledge is great, but you will always be told that you need more of it, there is never enough. Faith is what will come to your rescue in times of darkness.

There will be times when you make decisions that you regret. That’s okay. Deal with them promptly and move on. God says that when we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us and remember them no more. If the Creator of the Universe is capable of that, you certainly can be.

Don’t allow anyone to make you feel small. It is not without your permission that they will intrude on your heart. Keep your mind strong and filled with truth so that you are able to quickly combat anything negative that is thrown at you.

You are a child of the most high King. Beautiful, treasured, sacred in His eyes. Rest in the promise that His plan is perfect. He has the best life that you are capable of living all laid out for you. I know you can’t see it now, but you will.

One day, as you look back, you will see how it unfolded before your eyes like a well written story. That’s what it is really. You are His story. Better yet, His masterpiece and there is no one better to write your story than He.

You are the co-author. Don’t forget that. You most certainly have to do your part, but He is ultimately the Author and finisher.

You are beautiful. Not because of the clothes you wear or the attention from others or anything exterior. It is because you are a light in a dark world.

Others will see that light and want to know how to have it themselves. Be ready to share your faith. Everything that you are learning is leading you to a place where, when the time comes, you can share eternity with the lost.

And truly, nothing matters more than knowing the One who created you, who had you in mind before He formed you in your mother’s womb. It is a lifelong journey seeking Him. But along the way, you will have the opportunity to share what you are learning and grasping, which could in turn change a life.

I know, you will question whether you are someone who God can use to help others. Believe me, you are. He is grooming you for greatness. Making you more to His likeness. Whispering truths when your heart deceives you.

All the while, using your life, your gifts and flaws, to win others to Him.

There is no greater purpose.

I Love You!