Attitude of Being

Happiness is knowing where we stand, realizing every ounce of goodness is a gift, and intentionally aiming to live emptied; giving thanks for the fulfillment that is ours.

Happiness is knowing we're never alone, feeling separation and sorrow cut deep, but sensing bonds of hope and joy; giving thanks for the communion that is ours.

Happiness is knowing it's fine to be last, and there's no need to be loud; giving thanks for the identity and inheritance that is ours.

Happiness is knowing the pangs of purified desires and the diligence of pursuit; giving thanks for the satisfaction that is ours.

Happiness is knowing that life isn't fair and relinquishing our right to get even; giving thanks for the mercy that is ours.

Happiness is a clean conscience and a humble heart; giving thanks for the holy perspective that is ours.

Happiness is treating others with patience and respect; giving thanks for the royalty that is ours.

Happiness is standing firmly in the light; giving thanks for the future that is ours.

*Inspired by Jesus in Matthew 5:3-10 (Beatitudes)

Losing A Grip

 

This photo is 100% swiped. It's all I have to show for a wonderful day spent on my feet without my phone in my pocket.

Four slow cookers, 36 dinner rolls, two worship services, six households, three pots of coffee, 110 minutes of four square, eight hours of conversation, 9 fewer fish in the pond and zero photos.

Not one picture of my handsome hubs ... who wore the shirt his daughters picked out for him to coordinate with them the best.

Not one picture of the man-cubs. None of Grammy or me or our guests. Not even any of the egg-hunting cuties who call me Granna and give great hugs. 

Just this one picture of my four favorite women shining a little of the light and love I walked in all day long.

But I feel like I need to back up into the whole truth. TBH Saturday was one of the hardest days I've had in a while. I was angry and anxious and deeply discouraged. I was moody and lonesome, resentful and mean.

It felt like a battle. An irrational bout for sanity and peace. I mean, yes, there were preparations for today, but I honestly wasn't stressed about that. I felt some fear and grief from the previous weeks sort of catch up with me, but (with Jesus and His wisdom) I'm usually pretty good at assessing and processing all that, too. 

It's fair to say I was a little tired, and there are always hormonal complexities to consider, but for real. What in the actual world?

We went ten awful rounds, the no-good tempter and I. And while the darkness stood its ground, eventually, the only thing I could swing was to give up and go to bed.

Often, whenever I go to bed, my mind shifts into overdrive, but not last night. The minute my head touched the pillow, there was a palpable hush. Like the shush of holy white noise drowning out the chaotic lies with mercy and truth.

"I will rest in the Father's arms. Leave the rest in the Father's arms."

Just before my alarm began to chime on Sunday, I opened my eyes to a bright new day. A fresh start to a life worth living.

So I kissed some foreheads, curled my hair, plugged in the crock pots and sang some praise.

All because He lives.

"The risen King of Victory is alive inside of me!" 

Happy Resurrection Day (even without a bunch of sweet pictures)!🌻