Saying goodbye to another year...

It's that time of year again.  The time when our family does a little reflection; thinking back on the blessings of the year, the highs, the lows, the concerns and wishes, the dreams and heartbreaks~~and in all those ups and downs~~the manifestation of God's plan, will, and grace is made very clear to us in all of our lives.  Praise God!  When we were going through THAT specific hardship, what we couldn't see was that God had THIS in store for our family.  So amazing!  He knows what's best for us and we are so glad he's steering this Mitchell family's ship!!!
The boys, very sadly, help me take down the Christmas tree (I have been prepping Griff for this moment for the past few days as he seems to think we should keep it up all year, "but it's so boooootiful, Momma!", and we do a little cleaning and baking for our annual New Year's get together with friends in Carlisle.  Griff is adamant that we need to make reindeer cookies again and is very excited to play with all of his friends (one little girl in particular ;)).  Max is starting to feel better after a brief visit from a stomach bug yesterday and is in his room quietly reading.  My husband is still snoring away after staying up very late to watch his Hawkeyes lose their bowl game.  He may be a bit grouchy today.  I'm nursing a cold that began with an allergy and an asthma attack and having to use my inhaler a bit more than I'd like, but so thankful to have medication that opens my lungs and allows me to breathe.  It's those little things :).  That's our morning, on the last morning of this year.  So much to be thankful for, so many friends to continue to pray for, and a heart full of joy at the amazing fruition of all of God's mercies.
And the boys and I begin to talk about New Year's resolutions (G, "What's dat, Momma?  Yike  sumpin' aucky or sumpin' dood?").  A brand new year, clean, fresh, and full of possibilities.  The possibility of change, doing things different, trying harder, vowing to be better at this, that or the other thing.  The boys have said they will try harder to be kinder and more patient with each other.  Max will do a better job of tolerating Griffyn's button pushing and Griffyn will try harder not to push those buttons (especially that BIG, all too easy germ button ;)).  Max will do a better job of sharing and Griffyn will do a better job of not breaking Max's things.  We will continue to be diligent in our nightly prayers and to think of others.  That should keep them busy for the year ;).
Mine always involve something along the lines of eating better/healthier and exercising more diligently.  As I get older, it has become much harder to get up at 4 a.m. ;).  I also want to be more mindfully involved in the word and to always give and serve with a joyful heart and to trust, trust and TRUST God more with everything!  I have started a Bible verse and prayer journal to make myself think a bit harder, and not just read over words as part of my nightly routine (as by the end of the day, any brain cells I started with are about gone).  Marty's will most likely be (as he is still sleeping) to make it to more Iowa games ;).
Most of all, I want peace for my family.  I want us to be able to put on God's armor and shield ourselves from the negativity and ugliness~as much as we can~that can seep into our lives if we let it.  Some of it is unavoidable, but God gives us very useful tools to brandish the rest.  The most powerful one being that of the Holy Spirit that lives in our hearts.  I want my boys, and myself, to make a closer connection to that reality and to live mindfully, always, of our spirituality~~and in that way, be the lights unto the world that Jesus calls us to be. 
How do we do this?  There are many verses in the Bible that address this question, but the one that stands out the most to me is this section in Philippians, "Rejoice in the Lord always, I will say it again:  Rejoice!  Let your gentleness be evident to all.  The Lord is near.  Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.  And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.
Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable~if anything is excellent or praiseworthy~think about such things.  Whatever you have learned or received or heard from me, or seen in me~put into practice.  And the God of peace will be with you." (Philippians 4:4-9)
That is how we are to live our lives~and followed by the greatest promise~that of PEACE.  I also get a huge smile when I read this as the apostle Paul makes a significant point of calling us to joy.  He tells us re soundly to REJOICE.  Then says, "I will say it again...", just in case we missed it the first time, "REJOICE".  In all of the trials and tribulations we may face due to family, friends, sin, life, we are called to rejoice.  For if God is with us and for us~who can be against us?  We are to always, in good or bad circumstances, rejoice in the almighty love and strength of our Lord and Savior.  That's where faith comes in, doesn't it?
There is a saying by Buddha that states "The mind is everything.  What you think you become."

We are what we allow to filter into our minds, our souls, our hearts~and this year I want to work harder to concentrate more mindfully on whatever is true, noble, right, lovely, admirable, excellent and praiseworthy in the eyes of the Lord.  Daunting task in this world that inundates us with so much garbage.  But God gives us the weapons and strength to fight.  The Bible, his spirit, each other.  That being said, I am thankful for each and every one of you who bless me with your friendship and by doing so, continue to support our family.  We love you so much.
Happy 2012 to you all, and may it bring you many blessings and joys~~and even through the hardships, we know that we have a God who is right next to us, fighting for us, loving us, praying for us, and willing to grant us the desires of our heart if we only put our trust in him.  Amen!

Perfectly broken...

"To be nobody but yourself in a world that's doing its best to make you somebody else, is to fight the hardest battle you are ever going to fight. Never stop fighting.”
e.e. cummings Most of my life I feel like I've been hiding under a bed, underneath a blanket, scared to come out~comfortable with the darkness and solitude.  Life is often a tug of war; a tug of war of the soul~what you will do, what you want to do, and what you should do.  For some of us, this is a daily battle that begins with something just as simple as getting out of bed in the morning... Having grown up without a "father", in the true sense of the word, I have always felt a void in my life.   More like a gaping chasm, if we're being honest. I've also often wondered if actually not ever having a figure head of that name present in my life would actually have been better than the one I was given who filled me with "all kinds of crazy".  Over the years, I have learned to take what I can from that hell~and have found true peace.  A peace only found through the loving hands of a perfect Father~our heavenly one~and my life has come to take on the literal interpretation of the potter's hand to his vessel.  Continually being molded and shaped, broken and then remade.  Complete surrender... It has taken me my entire life to get to this point.  I can talk about it completely and openly.  I am not ashamed, I am not embarrassed.   I can cry about it and accept that I need to sometimes.  And moreover, I can MOVE ON.  Seems so easy, really, in theory.  But I had been stuck in bitterness and anger for so long. It has taken me this long to forgive~I had to~either that or stagnate in a prison of hate and rage.  The person who hurt me has no regrets, doesn't care, and frankly thinks he did nothing wrong (how can one argue with the voice of God in your head speaking directly to you?).   I wasn't ever going to get an apology.  Yet, I HAD to forgive.  A tricky business.  But necessary for my salvation--and by that, I mean in a very real sense--spiritually and the taking one more breath in and out kind.  I now realize that forgiving is not saying it was okay--but it IS allowing yourself to let go and placing it all in God's hands.  He's got this one now completely.  Thank you, Jesus! I still can't watch father and daughter dances at weddings without  falling apart.  I usually have to leave and walk the halls crying to myself and just brushing it off as the emotionality of the wedding itself to passers by--quite easy and believable.  The reasons I always cry at weddings is for very different reasons than most people, but that's okay.  It's me... The dance, the father walking his precious daughter down the isle, beaming with pride, yet with tears in his eyes at the thought of giving her away and "losing" her just brings me there--to THAT place--that place of questions--of what ifs and what would that be likes? What would it be like to have a father that loved you so much he thought you were the most precious angel and gift that God had ever bestowed on him and that it was an honor in itself to be given this gift?  What would it be like to have a father that loved you, respected you, valued you, or appreciated you at all?  That cared your heart was beating, that didn't use you as a wet rag to wipe up his needs?  That saw you as a beautiful creation of the Most High God, and not an abomination of sin breathing his clean air?  What kind of person would that make you?  I used to play mind games with myself when I was all of 5 and 6.  I used to make up stories about myself and my sisters.  One day our REAL parents were going to find us and take us away from all of this.  I would fantasise about these wonderful people and all of the fabulous things we would do once we were saved.  One way of coping.  Later I found that reading and writing could take me away from anything and transport me to wherever I wanted to go--if only momentarily--it was something... Then something snapped in me as a kid.  By eighth grade I think I had taken all I could physically and mentally and I had the epiphany of all epiphany's (thankfully there were better ones to come from a power higher than myself)~I WAS a worthless piece of garbage and if my parents didn't even love me or like me, there must be something seriously and intrinsically wrong with me. Ironically, it was the person that made me want to die who also, in a sense, made me want to live.  Upon finding out that I was so depressed through a teacher who expressed concern from my "depressed" writing, I was told that I would go to hell if I killed myself or thought about killing myself (everything pretty much eventually resulted in hell at our house~even your thoughts were sins, and I wasn't too sure about those as my father interpreted them as well--or if I was even breathing correctly).  The only thing scarier to me than my father was hell.  Really didn't want to go there.  Pretty sure I was going to by the terrible person I was, but didn't want to write my own ticket to the eternal pit of fire.  So, I started running.  It started as a very real fight or flight mechanism, I believe.  Running became my freedom.  I could literally and metaphorically run away from all of my problems and experience a high and happiness I had NEVER felt before.  I did it alot.  I messed up my knees.  My life revolved around it.  A day was not a good day until I had run at least two hours.  Rain, cold, heat--didn't matter.  I remember having to see a PT at Mercy after running in a knee brace when I was supposed to stay off of it (think that's when I developed my over tolerance of ibuprofen) and hearing him mutter, "Runners are just crazy."  Little did he know ;)... College hit and I got away physically.  But it all came crashing in on me when it became glaringly obvious by getting a glimpse of the lives of my fellow class mates, that my home life was~how should I say this~somewhat "abnormal".  Who knew?  I thought that's what love was all about.  The world suddenly became even more absurd and uncomfortable.  You're comfortable with what you know, even if it is horrible.  So I decided that I wanted to help people and maybe help myself.  I studied the crap out of psychology~concentrating mostly on child and behavioral psych.  I'll admit I may have been attempting to find answers to questions I didn't even know I had.  I also still loved reading and writing and took a stab at English and Philosophy as well with the hopes of maybe teaching it one day--as my English teachers were my inspirations all through high school.  I worked for a summer at Westminster Houses I and II (a home, of sorts, for all kinds of people with all kinds of mental illnesses--the day and night shifts--lots of stories there) and wasn't sure that was my life's calling.  I did my practicum at the middle school in Indianola and wasn't sure I was cut out for that either.  Took the GRE's and applied to several grad schools.  What to do?  What to do?  A restless vessel on the high seas.  I honestly just didn't think I was really capable of doing anything "real", but I was really good at "school",  and felt I had absolutely no control over my life--because someone had always had complete control over it before...  So I controlled the one thing I honestly could~eating.  And I just kind of stopped doing it.  Continued to run and kept a diligent food diary of everything I ate and the calories in each portion each and every single day (I used to be able to tell you how many laps around Simpson College's track it would take to burn off 25 m and m's).  Useful information, no?  I got down to 108 pounds and still thought I was fat.  After being diagnosed with neurally mediated syncope and undergoing the fun tilt table test (TTT) at Mercy after repeatedly fainting--thanks to Marty for driving me to all of those tests--being put on florinef for that, then having to see an oncologist (and at that time I didn't even know what that word meant) and being told my red blood cells were large, then being sent to a therapist and being put on Buspar and told I was "depressed" and "anxious with OCD tendencies", to just being told by a regular physician "you need to eat", I was a mess.  Thanks to Marty for going to some of my therapy sessions too.  Wonder if "rapid eye movement therapy" is still used today.  We never studied it in college, but my therapist tried it in several of our sessions. The theory was that if you stared at a board of red blinking dots (tiny light bulbs) that ran quickly and repeatedly back and forth in a straight line, that your left and right brain would connect to uncover memories that had been repressed~~always ended in me vomiting so we stopped attempting this form of "uncovering".  I still thought it was a sin to openly talk about the truth that was my family.  I saw Susan for years and thank her for her patience with me. I was always getting very sick (thanks to my coworkers at my first job after graduation at Meredith Corp. for taking such good care of me repeatedly and for being so understanding).  I tried a yoga class.  Meditation didn't take me anywhere peaceful.   After the magazine I worked for was no longer picked up for production (awesome severance package after only being there two years, thanks again Meredith and Family Money for the eight months of paid "vacation" time with benefits--it was truly a God thing), God put me in the position to have the opportunity to teach preschool and use all those early childhood classes I had taken at SC.  I made it up to 115 pounds after finding I needed a little more energy to work with kids.  I had been able to keep things up even after the birth of my first son, but after Griffyn and getting some red flags through my health screening at IHS after G was born and weighing in at 116, I had to start getting better.  It was very hard.  Over 20 pounds later, I look back at all those pictures and wish I could be that "fat" again ;).  I haven't weighed this much since I was six months pregnant with my boys, but I know I am healthier.  I keep repeating this to myself, anyway =).  It is still very difficult for me to be around people who are obsessed and constantly talk about working out and food and calories.  I realize they probably don't even know they are doing it.  I just can't have real relationships with those people yet.  I have gotten to a better place and can not go back there.  There are far more important things in my life now that take precedence over how many calories are in every bite I eat, and how hard I work out every day... I lost God a few times, but he never lost me.  I still find it hard to go to church.  The church never saved me.  It only confirmed everything my father ever said about me.  I was a sinner.  I was going to hell.  If I didn't do exactly what God said, I was kindling.  God saved me, and I will always cling to the verse in the Bible that explains that WE are the church--the people of God are the church--no building or affiliation--Jesus Christ lives in my heart--not in a building of four walls that serves donuts and coffee in the welcome hall.  I'm not saying that churches are bad.  Of course not!  They are a very important meeting place for the people of God to gather and grow in faith.  I'm just saying that a building does not make a church and going to church does not make you a good person (some of the most horrible people I have ever encountered in my life attended church each and every Sunday).  Jesus says, "Where two or three people are gathered in my name, there am I also."  Church can be with your family in your living room every Sunday, reading the Bible, praying and singing together--that is just as much a church as the 150 people gathered in a congregation across town.  I grew up being involved in everything a church had to offer, went to private school (hale Resurrection ;)), and not once did any one of those people ever help my family--they wanted our money, our time, and what we could give and do for them.  I do not judge a person by where they go on Sunday morning.  It's your heart, your soul, your spirit of servant hood to Christ, and what you do with the other six days of the week as well.  So, I applaud those of you who go and refill your souls every Sunday in one particular building--but I choose to have church with my friends and family anywhere we gather together in his name and on any day of the week.  Whether it's on the bike path, a park, or a living room.  It's all the same in his eyes. The long of it?  Life is a mess.  I think that's true for all of us.  At 35, I still feel like I haven't even begun to sort it all out.  And forget about "finding myself".  I am whomever God made and intends me to be.  I wake up each day, thankful for what he has brought me through, the intensely amazing blessings he has bestowed on me, for saving me in every sense of the word as my life could have gone in several different directions, and for bringing me to this spot right here--right now.  I still truly can not believe it (and I don't remember half the ride here).  He carried me, truly carried me, and never let me go.  If he was willing to spare me and hold onto me for this long, I can't help but think he has a purpose for my life.  Even if it's the simplest one of being a mommy to these two incredible boys of mine.  I know what a mess I am and am completely aware of my countless imperfections, and I have whole heartily come to accept that about myself.  I know I am emotional more than I am rational and my heart speaks before my mind.  I know that I constantly doubt myself and have the hardest time making decisions and get overwhelmed by even the simplest of ones.  I know I am clingy then may turn around and need so much space you may think I've fallen off the face of the earth.  I know that I am very mistrusting.  I know I will never be mainstream and will always be a quiet rebel.  I know I spoil my children and worry about them and miss them too much when they are away from me.  I embrace my oddities and weirdness anymore.  =)  I'm thoroughly tired of being judged and the only judgement that matters to me is that of the person who created me.  He thought I was worth dying for, so that's enough for me.  And all along, I truly had a Father.  A perfect Father--who was always there for me--telling me to hold on.  Telling me I would be something to somebody someday, and moreover, that I was everything to Him.  It just took me a long time to figure it out... I thank my friends, my sisters, brother, mom, husband, and even my kids, who have been with me on this journey--not knowing what in the hell was going on most of the time--but being there regardless.  I know I'm not an easy person to hold onto (I even want to get away from me sometimes) but know I will always give my best and even when I shut down, I will get up again.  It's on ongoing healing.  Some days it hits you--hard--but most days are just fine.  You own it, you take strength in the knowledge you survived, you throw your hands up to God and count your blessings, and you take another step forward.  You love with all your heart, forgive the best you can, and settle into the bones and skin God gave you.  You are lucky to be loved by those that love you and blessed to give that love back as best you can in the ways that you know how (and will learn to know how).  You will learn to be vunerable by just being you, although it may be the scariest thing you ever do.  I can not thank my friends enough who were also my family for so very, very long.  God put each and every one of you in my life for a reason.  I love you with all my heart.  To all of those daily healing, keep on keeping on and keep the faith.  It's so much junk to sort through and I've given up making any sense of it other than everything, even the bad stuff, happens for a reason.  Love to all of you, and continue to find your light and shine it brightly--us broken vessels are even brighter with all of that light shining through our holes :).  Peace and God bless... Marty and I about 15 years ago--just kids :) “We do not believe in ourselves until someone reveals that deep inside us something is valuable, worth listening to, worthy of our trust, sacred to our touch. Once we believe in ourselves we can risk curiosity, wonder, spontaneous delight or any experience that reveals the human spirit.” e.e. cummings

Christmas is over, but the Merry is still in our hearts!

The birthday cake the boys make for Jesus every year (he's like a billion years old by now, Max says =))

Gma and Gpa Mitchell for Christmas in Iowa City

The boys in their matching Bumble shirts at Katie and Greg's awesome Christmas party!

Singing happy birthday to baby Jesus on Christmas night with Aunt Molly and Aunt Jen

Santa and Mrs. Clause made a surprise stop at the Black residence!  Don't know who was more thrilled, me or the boys! Thank you so much, Katie and Greg!!!  This was so special! =)

Our annual preschool Christmas program at Jester Auditorium~I love my job and these little elves!  How cute are they?  As much as I get worn out (and catch cooties), I catch even more love and hugs!!!

My awesome co-teachers that I am blessed to also call friends!

SANTA CAME!!!  Christmas morning...

Jen, me, and Molly (we missed Erin and Harold and Tim and Jenna but held you in our hearts!)

Marty and I at mom's (blessed, thankful, and a little sleepy)

Griffyn and Molly making a tent in the living room at Gma and Gpa's in Norwalk

Continuing to lift baby John and the Ten Pas family up in prayer!

Hot tea and honey to clear my stuffy head and ease a sore throat.  Tired from head to toe.  The house is a mess of toys that still need to be organized and trays of cookies and sweets are strewn all around the kitchen (thanks to all of our friends and neighbors for the goodies =)).  The boys are asking me "where are we going today?".  We have enjoyed time with friends and family, and are missing those who are no longer with us and far away~but feeling blessed to have them in our lives.  Though exhausted, my heart is full and happy. 
I think of Charles Dickens and the famous words he penned through the mouth of Tiny Tim, "God bless us everyone".  Feeling richly blessed.  Knowing each and every day can truly be Christmas with Christ living in our hearts--the greatest gift of all brought to this earth in the form of a precious little baby boy--the light of all humanity, our Savior.  There is no greater joy!
We spent the day before Christmas Eve and half of the next (had to leave early as Griff and I were getting walloped with allergies due to dog hair and I hadn't brought my inhaler or G's nebs~allergy meds can only do so much when your asthma starts to act up) in Iowa City with Gma and Gpa Mitchell and cousins.  We spent Christmas Eve at our house, and the boys slept in our room waiting for Santa to come (Max hears him every single year).  Santa came Christmas morning and we headed to Norwalk to spend time with my Mom, Homer and Jen and Molly.  It was very relaxed--mom just had surgery the weekend before, so we had a huge taco buffet bar, celebrated Jesus's birthday with cake and ice cream, and watched a movie together.  It all came and went so quickly, as it does every year it seems. 
We had our annual preschool Christmas program at Jester and also sang for the employees at Methodist in the cafeteria (I missed this cafeteria "show" as I was sick).  I have amazing friends that are also my coworkers and it wouldn't be the holidays without this "tradition" =).  Love you guys!  Stressful, yes--but everyone knows "the best way to spread Christmas cheer is by singing loud for all to hear" (smile).
The boys and I all had our share of sickness--ranging from stomach, to ear and sinus.  It seems that everyone was hit by this--some more than once.  It made for a few less "traditional" treats coming out of the Mitchell kitchen, but no one seemed to mind.  Didn't get Grandpa Jerry's caramels made that I usually get to him every year as part of his gifts.  Will have to make him some Valentine caramels instead! 
Love, peace, and joy to you all.  May you relax, sit back, and take it all in before the new year starts.  Marty and I are starting to think that we should adopt a few Hanukkah and Kwanzaa traditions next year~~we like the idea of the celebration being spread out for days~~leaves more time for reflection and truly being present in the season. 
We also remember the Ten Pas family, as always, in our daily prayers.  Their Christmas was spent in the hospital while baby John had his second round of surgery.  We pray for continued strength and healing for his little body, and that the Lord and Savior would wrap his loving arms around their family and give them the comfort and peace that only He can give.  Love you!
Blessings to you all, and now to brew another cup of tea and clean up the kitchen (without eating anything else).  I will try not to think of all that must be done in the form of putting Christmas away.  It makes me a little sad.  I will hold onto it just a bit longer--we can always put a bunch of hearts on the tree in February--and it truly doesn't feel right to take all these snowmen down until we actually have some snow. 
Feeling love, feeling joy, feeling complete and content.  Thank you, God, for your saving gift to all of humanity.  May we always continue to seek you!!!   And in the words of little Tiny Tim, "God bless us everyone!"