This Joy I Have

It's going to get a little bit preachy...

It has dawned on me that my personal posts tend to be more about the lowlights of my life - sadness, depression, or despair. Of course, we all suffer at least occasionally from those things. You've heard quite a bit about my struggles but what you don't hear as much about is my joy.

When I was young, I loved when the church would break out singing these words:

"This joy I have, the world didn't give it to me. The world didn't give to me and the world can't take it away."

That's so powerful. Back then, my mother understood the joy she had, but I was just singing along because I liked the song. Once I hit some of life's speed bumps, I was able to totally relate to the song. The song speaks not only of the joy but of the peace and the love that the world can't take away.

In spite of any troubles life throws at me - and the ones I sometimes cause for myself - I have never lost my joy. There have been times when it was dimmed a little under the weight of depression or health problems. Dimmed but never ever extinguished.

I can remember a time when I was in Texas, away from my friends and family. I spent a few hours just laying on the floor in the dark and feeling like I just didn't deserve to live. I kept remembering all the wrong choices I had made to get me to that point and I felt so stupid and ashamed and unworthy. To be honest, I can't remember now how I got past that moment. I have many blank spots of that period in my life. But I did, obviously, get past it.

Today, I still have lots and lots of things to worry and stress about. I am going to be seeing another doctor this week and I am hoping he doesn't tell me anything bad. I have a countertop full of bills that I am struggling to catch up on. But I also have my joy.

There are times when I realize just how blessed I am that I have to stop whatever I am doing and just thank the Lord. That's a joy that can't be measured or studied or dissected or shrugged away.

For anyone out there who might be scoffing at my belief in Christ, let me remind you of something I think people forget or ignore. Even if you don't serve God, you serve a god of something. Maybe yours is a god of self-sufficiency or of money or hate. Maybe you serve a god of self. Some people serve a god of disbelieving or willful ignorance. Maybe you serve a god of nothing. You do have a belief and you do make choices about that belief. My belief gives me eternal hope and joy. What does yours give you?

When you hit rock bottom, where do you turn? What brings you back up? I truly am curious about what holds people together when they don't believe that there is a Creator who loves them.

My joy is so beautiful because it doesn't rely on my health, wealth, well-being, safety, or life. As a matter of fact, part of my joy is based on the fact that the loss or all those things are so minor in the end. There are a couple of more verses I remind myself of when I get tired of this fight"

And fear not them that kill the body, but are not able to kill the soul; but rather fear Him that is able to destroy both soul and body in hell. (Matthew 10:28)

And

Lay not up for yourselves treasures upon earth, where moth and rust doth corrupt, and where thieves break through and steal:
But lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust doth corrupt, and where thieves do not break through nor steal:
For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also. (Matthew 6:19-21

I have a sister in law who, when super-stressed, once joked that her treasures better be in heaven because they sure weren't here on earth! I love that. We don't always look like it, but the joy is there, underneath everything else.

So I just wanted to share that with you. If you are tired in your soul and heart, if you just need rest and comfort, try the Lord.

Peace
--Free

I know the Master of the wind.

I know the Maker of the rain.

This joy I have.

(Just picture churches all over the world

with different races, singing this)

I've Leveled Up

I once saw a cute meme that said we should start thinking of our ages as game levels. The higher up we level, the more badass we seem. I dig it.

Yesterday, I celebrated surviving another year of existence and I'm not ashamed to say that this birthday made me a little sad. I had made a wish a while back and was holding my breath, waiting for it to miraculously come true. It didn't. That's what I get for being a dreamer of impossible dreams and such a hopeless romantic. Other than that, I had a fabulous day, thank you very much. I ate too many cupcakes, laughed a lot, and spent time with people I love.

But another year is gone. Wow.

Mission accomplished

Actually, aging is not a big thing for me. I can age or I can not age. I choose life.

I think that it's not aging that bothers people. I think the problem is the importance we put on aging. And that we are trained to set our life clocks and dreams to specific ages.

Aging is not just physiological. It's always been my opinion that there are different ages we reach in our own time, regardless of our biological calendars. There's the Learning Age -  which lasts a lifetime unless you are determined for it not to. The Experience Age lasts several years until you've done most of what you ever will for the first time - first job, first really good friendship, first love (and maybe) first heartache, first mourning a loved one, first regret, and so on. There are people still in their 20's going through things I never will. Life's funny like that. I feel for kids who have had to experience the most painful stuff before they get to the good stuff.

I'm fortunate that I learned a lot of life lessons when I could best handle them. I'm especially lucky that I still enjoy learning and discovering. That will always be my favorite life "level".


The Romantic Age is the tough one for some of us. It can come early in life or late. It just might come around again and again. For some people, their romantic age is planned out and works out with the first person they love. For some, it comes as a surprise. At my age, that's what will have to happen and it would be so welcome and amazing.

I've had 2 chances at romance. Let's call them Ghosts of Romances Past. I mourn both of them because I didn't make them what they could have been. I'm okay with that - finally - because I think I have entered my Comfort Age. In this age of my life (and especially since my wish didn't come true) I'm not expecting much, I just enjoy what I have - or the memories of what I've had. Some people don't even have memories of good things.

Yes. This.

So where does my sadness come from? It comes from an echo of my past, not my "now" and it's not a deep or heavy sadness. It's a reminder that I could have been in this Comfort Age all along. This age is one of acceptance. I'm content - for the most part - and thankful. Nothing has to be forced anymore. I live my best, love my best, and hope for the best. That's all. It's like my spin on the Serenity Prayer.

By the way, despite my current calm, don't think I didn't have a rough moment or two. I spent most of last night bawling like a jilted bride. Then I realized that I probably need to start watching out for wrinkles! (Just kidding. You all know I had to throw a joke in somewhere.) But listen. I did cry for a while, just for a short while. What I came to realize is that I'm blessed to still be here in this life of mine. As raggedy and worn out as it is, it's mine and I cherish it.

And if my "wish" is still out there somewhere, I hope it finds me one day.

Peace
--Free


P.S.: The other day, I was looking over some old photographs of family and friends - and a lot of people I have no idea about...  I've had a lot of happiness in my life. Sometimes, I'm so busy missing what I don't have that I forget that. And because this is what I feel like inside, I'm choosing this song for the post:

"I wanna be free to know

The things I do are right

I wanna be free"

Finding Joy

Last week was a rough one. The weekend was worse. I was dealing with some fatigue and a vague kind of apathy. The weather didn't help. The weather here has been off-and-on gloomy with teasings of sunshine. Weather can be my friend or my enemy. And I am sometimes my own bad medicine. Most people fight dark moods with good company. Me, I duck out of invites. I don't like pretending that I'm okay when I'm not - at least not any more than I have to just to make people not worry. So I usually only socialize when I feel sociable.

I spent Easter alone and just kind of meditating on the season's message that Jesus died and rose. He did both - going into the grave and coming out - for us and maybe his other gift was teaching us how - with his love - to rise up out of our emotional graves.  By the time I went to bed last night, I was thinking about how we, human and flawed, have to regenerate from things that kill little pieces of us every day.

Some people don't heal from all that hurts their feelings. Some people just put up walls and won't let the hurt get too close. I heal with laughter and music and imagination. So this past week when I was tempted to stay hidden away in my tomb of despair, I thought about God's love for me and I was able to rise out of the nice, cool, dangerous darkness.

source:
https://twitter.com/letsdefeat

My laughter comes from small things. I'm that person who breaks out into giggles while grocery shopping because I remembered something that happened ten years ago. Last night, I was listening to a podcast when one host misspoke about a location and then said that he was no "geographist". His co-host teased that he was also obviously a not "wordist". I had to pause the podcast for at least five minutes while I laughed.  Yeah, you had to be there. Ba dum bump.

Music is my other balm. My latest song obsession came about while I was watching that show Lucifer (Yeah, I'll address that in a moment.) The song is "Restless" by a band called Cold War Kids. Since I don't listen much to the radio, I find new music via TV shows or movies. Let's give a shout out to the Shazam app right now. It's on my home screen with other Most Used icons right next to the bank app that I check to keep myself from going to jail over bounced checks.

Anyway, I love this song so much. Anyone who's read my blog more than 20 times knows how often I mishear lyrics. I don't usually even pay attention to lyrics and just let the music take me where it's going.
This time though, for some reason, the lyrics grabbed me. The melody (arrangement?) is also beautiful. Do check out this band and show support.

What humor and music can't heal in me, love and imagination can. Love's currently in hiding - or maybe even in witness protection - so I had to lose myself in my imagination. Imagination is tricky though so I have to be careful. I might start out headed toward a mirage of paradise and end up in places darker than my reality. Usually, I can get myself to a place of peace just by imagining what that place might look like.

At any rate, I was able to pull myself back into some kind of balance. Today, I decided to skip this weeks methotrexate injection. I want to feel good to enjoy this moment of not being entombed.

As for the show Lucifer, I realize that a lot of Christians were in protest when it premiered. I never bothered to watch it just because I was in my 5-year period of refusing to own a television. When I noticed a couple of weeks ago that it was on Netflix, I put it in my queue and forgot about it for a few days. After a little bit of debate with myself, I decided to watch the show. Here's the thing, I'm strong enough in my beliefs that a silly TV show is not going to shake my faith. I live in a world that is a documentary of evil. I read the news and observe people every day. If that hasn't turned me away from the cross, I don't know what can.

The show is entertaining. I mean, it's mainly about the Devil in existential crisis because of issues we humans deal with on a daily basis. The bad theology (which seems to blend Biblical teachings with that of Greek and Marvel Universe mythology) could be misleading to someone weak and not curious enough to search further. For me, it's just a show made up of fictional characters loosely based on real people. I can handle that.

**I walked away from the keyboard for a minute and almost forgot what this post was about because I have the attention span of a gnat. Forgive me if the rest of the post is a little off kilter.**

 I just wanted to get across that we have to find ways to heal ourselves and hang on to live for another moment. Rinse and repeat. That's all life is - just making it from moment to moment and breath to breath. And, like I said, I think that the healing - in our hearts and imagination or through little joys - is all a gift from God.

I want to include another song that I always find soothing. This one has pulled me through some seriously dark moments.

Ironically, Lucifer -or, as I call him post-fall, Satan - was the chief musician. So music can soothe or damage. Remember that David played the harp for Saul.


Peace
--Free

Plant Life & Plant Love

Those of you who have even sporadically followed this blog know that I deal with health issues - both physical and emotional. I've been working hard on the physical stuff by upping my nutrition and exercise game, but it didn't have much effect on my mental health. Then I got a plant. Not just any plant. This beautiful (and cheap) beauty here.

She's a moth orchid - or, more formally, a Phalaenopsis (praise copy/paste!). I found her at Walmart and she only cost $10. Perfect.

Who knew what a boost this would be to my emotional health! Also, notice that she really does kind of resemble a moth if you look close and hard.

I still struggle with keeping depression at bay and I'm dealing with the constant fatigue and some anxiety but... Oh, my goodness, how this plant brightens even my worst days.The only problem I can see with having a living plant is that there are days when I might be bringing it down! Poor plant is probably struggling with its own emotional health. I think she's okay though (and, yes, I think of it as a 'she') because she's rebloomed once already after losing her first petals at the start of the cold weather season.

When I noticed her petals falling away, I remember thinking that she was dead. Then I realized her leaves were still so beautiful and healthy. Thanks to a site called Just Add Ice, I learned how to nurse my plant back into the reblooming stage.

Now, understand that I not only physically have a melanin-rich thumb, I have the proverbial brown thumb like you wouldn't believe. My mother could bring a plant back from the dead and once grew a plant from a freaking potato. My sister was great with plants and three years after her passing, my niece still has her surviving ivy, ferns, and plants we don't know the names of. Me? I once killed a cactus. True story.

When I managed to get my orchid to rebloom, I almost couldn't believe my eyes. It happened really fast. I was able to track the reblooming with date-stamped photos I took with my cell phone.

I'm pretty sure that I got her at the end of August 2017 and she was pretty bloomed up then:

Slowly, she began losing blooms...

... until she was bare. This was her on December 18th:

Gorgeous leaves tho!

Notice that those leaves are still gawgeous tho! I followed the advice I found on Just Add Ice and used some love and Miracle Grow a few times a week.

 The leaves stayed healthy but there were just some little nibs where the old blooms had been. Then about 5 weeks later, she began showing up and showing out:

I was pretty pleased! Of course, there are a couple more buds that haven't opened yet, but someone advised me that that is normal. They also suggested that I move her to a bigger planter. I have one for her but I'm scared to move her. Things have been going so well that I don't want to irritate the gorgeous thing.

While I was posting and telling all my friends about my plant, I saw that one of my neighbors had one outside her door the other week. First of all, how cute is that snail planter? Second, look at those blooms! I ranted and raved and even shared photos of this plant before my neighbor informed me that it's a really good fake. The leaves feel so real! 

FAKE! (But a great fake)

 I was kind of selfishly happy that such a perfect plant was artificial. Ha! My plant is real and thriving. The orchid has done so well that I got this other plant that I saw on sale this week:

This one is labeled as being the "world's longest blooming plant". It's called an anthurium and is also called the "flamingo flower". I love that and I just adore the colors. She and the orchid look good together and they use the same type of care - ice and indirect sunlight and moderate to warm temps. 

. They both bring me so much joy. There's a sense of nurturing that I've missed the past few months. Also, plants are the cheapest kind of decoration for a living space. I can literally sit for an hour, just looking at these plants and contemplating what an amazing world the Lord prepared for us here.

So, if you are feeling a little down, get a plant. If you don't want to take care of one, get a fake one since there are apparently some great fakes out there!

Peace
--Free

Devil Has Been Busy

But so has God.

I finally got over to Vocational Rehab to see about getting back into some kind of career post-Sarc. Of course, the sarc heard that I had plans so it came out to visit. On my birthday. Just like the gift it is...

That's be irritating news. The better news is that I have been working on my courses over at CodeAcademy. I'm pretty pleased with myself since I have managed to get through almost all the HTML training. I'm well on my way to learning some actual programming language because Java is  up next. (By the way -for anyone who did get over to one of the free training sites, I can tell you that viewing some of the Udemy vids is a good way to make some stuff stick.)

That's the about-me news. The rest of the news would be all about idiots doing stupid things to get their 15 minutes of fame. I won't even go there. What I do want to do is give you something to smile about.

When I was feeling all achy and creaky and morose the other day, I got an email from a friend. She ended the email with the saying I've always loved:

That's the real truth there (in my life anyway). And it's not a bad thing. Cheered me up, so I thought I'd post this link to a site of great Yiddish sayings. Nothing like a little common sense served up with a smile...

YiddishWit.com

I like: "In a beautiful apple sometimes you find a worm"

Just like life.

Peace
--Free

P.S.: Hello to all my super-special group of G+ friends (you know who you are). I will be back there soon to hassle you! lol

Still Here

It does so break my heart every time I hear this song.

I mean, I've heard that she had a lot of heartache and troubles, but she was still here to sing about it. Now she is gone and she will always be one of the many reminders to me that life is life and death is death. I don't want to be punked into giving up  - not by disappointment or shame or hurt or loss or fear. I want to go out fighting a little bit harder than that.

People say that suicide is a coward's way out. I don't think so anymore; I think that suicide is a brave act -stupid but brave. After all, you are rolling dice on eternity.  By giving up in a moment of overwhelming pain, you are forfeiting a chance at any more joy. It's stupid because you don't know how much of your love you are robbing other people of. You are giving up ever finding what could have been your saving hope - a person or pursuit. There could be someone you don't even know who will need you, and you won't be there. 

I bring up all this because there are many ways to commit suicide (and I'm not talking about intentional styles or methods). What I mean is that there are people all around us who are committing suicide by lifestyle and mindset.

A close friend of mine is dying a little every day by sitting and letting life pass her by. She is letting depression kill her without a weapon in sight. (And I am not downplaying the very real problems of depression.) 

Like I said, there are people dying of suicide all around us. When you are depressed and won't let anyone help you, that's suicide by default. When you are in a dangerous relationship and won't get help, that's suicide by shame. If you feel overwhelmed by life and can't lay down your fear or pride or shame to reach out in any way, that is suicide. It's slow suicide. 

Just like we should do for anyone with suicidal tendencies, we have to keep trying to reach people who are lost in their pain. Maybe because I am a Christian (imperfect as I am), I truly do believe that I am my brother's keeper.

I've been the one who needed "keeping." Thank God I had friends who were there for me. I was the one committing suicide by shame and pride and misguided wishing. I didn't want anyone to know I was in a dangerously abusive relationship. Shame and pride. I didn't want to give up on someone I once loved and wanted to love again - no matter how many times he put me in fear of my life. Misguided wishing. 

Anyway, believe it or not, a lot of my thoughts for this post came together out of a simple conversation about the weather. Yeah, I am both complex and simple! (Or just simple.)

It's been an unusual summer here so far. Anchorage is home to some great summertime weather. (Fairbanks has better summer weather, but they also have winters that will freeze your ovaries.) The weather here at this point sucks. It's so gloomy today that I had to have three hits of caffeine just to fall out of the right side of my bed. This is the way things have been since we expected summer starting in late April.

Am I complaining like a champion whiner? Yes, you bet. But I have a new philosophy about everything:

As long as I am here to complain, I'm doing better than I could be. I am still here. Some people left us way too early. I wonder if they can know that we miss them and think about them; crave their presence and need them?

Peace

--Free

Measuring Joy

I was up really early on my birthday, just thinking, thinking and thinking - like I guess everyone does on birthdays, anniversaries and some holidays. Nora Ephron had just passed and I had gone and re-read some of her essays and other musings. I was touched by the advice she gave to younger women and kind of amused by (but in disagreement with) some of what she had to say about aging. Thinking of her and other women who lived uniquely, or fully, I got to wondering about what it means to live fully. What I came up with is, it's not about having a busy or fabulous career or family or adventures. It's about personal and individual pleasures and contentments. It's about joy, or at least, that's what I believe.

So then, what is joy, and how do you measure it your joy?

Can't measure it by the money you have. Money is too easy to lose. Money buys things that can deceive you: power but not respect, respect but not love, fear but hatred... It goes on and on. Money is only as good as the person who has it.

You can't measure joy by the number of friends you have. Friends are as flawed as you are. If friends were the complete foundation of an individual's joy, then there'd be no despair or grief or suicide of a person with friends. Friends are pieces of joy, not the finished puzzle.

Joy isn't what you look like, who you love or who loves you. It's not sex or food or good music or theater.

Maybe joy is that thing that is only indescribably sensed - not by sight or touch or sound or taste or smell. Maybe it is a sense itself, except real and whole, like God. It exists and always has. It seems to be without a known beginning, like creation itself, but given a beginning, like the first breath to an infant.

I have joy just as I have faith. They are, I think, very alike.

And... R.I.P. Nora Ephron

Peace
--Free