My mom has always said that from early on she wished she could go back and rename me. I’m sure she likes the name Bria, and I know that it suites me well, but if she could do it over she would call me Joy. She says this because I brought her (and continue to bring her…mainly because of my baby making skills) so much joy. I must admit this humors me somewhat. I’ve gone through depression on a number of occasions and tend to veer toward the ‘glass half empty’ outlook on life.
Despite my pessimistic attitude she still holds to her statement and recently pinpointed a struggle of mine. While driving in the car one day she said to me, “Bria, don’t let anyone steel your joy. I know this past year has been a hard one for you and some people have been not that great…but you have to hold onto your joy.” Thankfully we had just pulled up to Safeway and I bolted out of the car to grab some milk before the kids went crazy. I didn’t want to face that statement.
Quite frankly, I’ve been overly cranky these past few weeks…this past year actually. As a matter of fact, I would call myself a BITCH. There you go. I said it. And I’ve only said it because I have been. I guess I have let my joy slip away. I don’t find joy in many things anymore. Certain things, situations, or people make me laugh and smile…but I have a hard time being joyful on a regular basis. That’s sad.
With that said, I posted a picture of the Cinnamon Buns that I made today because I realized that I’ve gotten back my joy of baking. I stopped baking for awhile and didn’t want to have anything to do with it. That’s coming from someone who will frequently sit and read a recipe book cover to cover and consider it a ‘good read’. But it’s back! Most days you can walk into my house and I’ll have made a cake or cookies or muffins or loaf or random other treats and happily share them (James doesn’t happily share them though). I find joy in the process. I find joy in teaching Rhys how to bake. I find joy in testing out new recipes. I find joy in seeing my husband light up when I’ve made his favorite things. I find joy in how big Rhys’ eyes get when he beholds his tasty snack.
I know it’s just baking and it’s not going to fix my crusty attitude completely…but it’s a start. It’s a very yummy start.
I was inspired to make this flower by another crafty blogger. She was able to ward off a little more housework by occupying herself with a button flower. I thought to myself, “I must try this! Neglecting housework to do more crafts!” ha ha. This is a common occurrence in my house as well…warding off housework that is. While my flower is very much different than hers, I have her to thank for the splendid idea of a button flower. I think this will look just wonderful on my mothers wall in her craft room 🙂
I find that being a mom is very trying at times. There are mornings that I wake up and just want to take care of myself. There are days that are long and difficult. There are nights where I wish I could just go out with James on a whim. A mom’s job is never ending; the house needs cleaning, the laundry needs washing, the kids need changing…all the time. While I find myself exhausted at the end of the day, even if it’s been particularly hard day, I have to fess-up…it’s all worth it! There is nothing else like having little arms around your neck. There is nothing else like having little lips kissing your cheek. There is nothing else like having a little voice wake you up in the morning saying, “Happy Birthday Mom!” when, in fact, it is Mothers Day. So Happy Mothers Day to Me!
It’s amazing just how much your life can change in 12 months. A child can be born, a house can be bought, friendships can end, new friends can be made, old friendships can be rekindled, a job can be lost and a new one started.
Just over a year has passed since we left the church and took a HUGE turn in our lives. I was so confused. I was so hurt. Actually…I’m still confused and hurt. My whole being was telling me that’s where God wanted us. I kept asking myself, “What the heck just happened?”. I was angry. I was bitter. I guess I’m still angry and bitter. I’m still dealing with the whole situation and it’s been a year. A lot can change in a year and yet, some things remain the same.
God is working in me. He is digging deep into me, into my wounds, into my very being. Time and time again James and I have laughed (then cried then laughed again) at what God was bringing us through or at what has gone on in our lives. And over and over the only thing that we would/could ever conclude is that He is preparing us. For what? Ha. Who knows.
With all of that said, I would never have thought God could bring us to a place as good as this after a time as bad and as uncertain as that.
I figured since I wrote a poem about me writing poems in high school I would post one that I enjoyed. Here you go…
Samuel J and Annie
A sign on one of the lazy branches warns
As if not to disturb the peace
of people dead and gone
One grave reads
Southern Samuel J and Annie
The sermon of living birds plays
a toll on my mind
The music these poets bellow for
the dancers is enchanting
A tree creates a canopy for
the two lovers to lie under
Had they seen this place before?
A blanket of nature covers them,
protects them from the harshness of
the real world
They become one through the love they had
As if never to leave they embrace
each other for all of eternity
in a place not half as forgotten as this
The watercolour flowers around them only
adds beauty to their bed
Had they seen this place before?