Saturday, December 31, 2011

Musings

I can tell that I'm an official adult now because Thanksgiving, Fourth of July and New Years are my favorite holidays. Before my teen years, the favorites were Christmas and birthday, in that order.

I love New Years because, well, everything feels new and uncluttered. It's like the entire country gets a second chance at following their dreams, mending relationships, making good on a promise to themself.

I was grateful for a year that was a little more gentle than previous years.

Thankful for caring family.

Thankful for amazing friends who show their strength in the midst of unbearable marriages, seemingly fruitless efforts, repetitive service and quieting that voice that says, "Am I enough?"

I have discovered that my daughters have made me a different woman. I enjoy simpler things now. I enjoy playing chase and smooching the top of their heads. I love how Morgan's laugh sounds like watery, giggly music. I love how Eve dives into life with the tenacity of a pitbull.

I'm grateful that I'm learning to appreciate how God made me and all my idiosyncrasies. I'm learning to not compare myself to others. I'm learning to focus, to make dreams happen.

I've come to realize that one of my favorite things to do is to do something-- anything-- well. Making dinner. Making a bed. Creating an image. The satisfaction of stepping back from something for an instant and, in God-like fashion, saying "That's good. Make more of that."

I've discovered that I'd rather prune activities from my life than rush around like a mad woman, half seeing the world around me.

In the friendships in my life, I'm accepting of people who aren't yet ready to tell me that they've moved on in life, that they don't see life at all the way I do. I have some friends who are too scared to come out of a cave of their life so I'll just metaphorically leave cookies at their doorstep in the hopes that one day they will.

I have other friends who are seizing the good things in life so fiercely because a tsunami of bad tidings came their way. I admire their ability to create, to push forward, to leave the darkness behind.

My husband and I were talking this morning about how when we were first married we wanted such surface-y things: Without saying so, I'm sure we wanted to be as rich, beautiful and healthy as possible. In the past ten years in Chicagoland, we've changed. We see how God directs our paths through friends and finances, sickness and sorrows. We're planning things less lately and giving God our hearts and motives. Dan and I both have artistic endeavors we'd like to pursue; we find ourselves being mindful of God's voice in that.

And now, A New Year's Blessing for you:

May your sorrows drive you to beauty.
May your joys etch out all pain.
May your days be quiet enough to hear the voice of God,
boisterous enough to hear life pulsing around you
and simple enough to enjoy them all thoroughly.

Happy New Year

Sunday, December 4, 2011

To My Younger Self: On Relationships

My husband is a firm believer in not having regrets. It's not that he doesn't have circumstances in his life that he wish weren't so; it's more like he sees each life experience as a learning experience given from God.

He's the optimist in the family.

He doesn't even regret certain toxic people in his life; he has amazing emotional stamina.

I do not share his sentiment or his stamina. If given the opportunity, I would have erased most of my junior high years, increased the amount of time I spent with my great grandmother and said "yes" when Dan Dykstra asked me out for pizza at college.

I regret that last one immensely.

That being said, I have come up with a short list of relationship pointers for myself in the event that time travel is a viable option and I accidentally set the machine for "pre-adolescent years".

*ahem*

1. Surround yourself with people who want to bring out the best in you.

2. Do not make yourself close friends with people who like to be victims in life.

3. People who like to laugh make great friends.

4. You're a "word" person. Make friends with people who use their words for good.

5. If someone is constantly making small jabs at you, excuse yourself politely from the friendship. Even small jabs mean something bigger is lurking.

6. Be the kind of woman that you want to be now, when you're a mother and especially when you're a grandmother. Practice makes perfect.

7. Stay away from people who try to manipulate spiritually, emotionally or any other way.

8. Make guy friends; they're great.

9. Just because a person looks plain on the outside doesn't mean that they're plain on the inside.

10. A person's eyes say a lot about their heart.