Standing Where We Ought to Be

Shrove Tuesday! Pancake Day! Mardi Gras! We had so much fun! We feasted on pancakes and fruit and sausages and mimosas with so many friends: Scott and Margaret and Hudson and Imogene; Jolie and Andy and Chanida and Sam; Kelly; James and Lisa and Nodin; Stuart and Adrienne and William. And us! Traditions are lovely and traditions that surround us with good friends eating good food are the best kind. I am feeling thankful and glad, if not particularly Lenten the morning after, but isn't God good for providing an evening of abundance of all those good things on a day when Scott and I woke up feeling so "not enough".

There was indeed a lot of 'not enough' kicking around the Caldwell Johnson home the last few days. Not enough sleep, not enough money, not enough motivation, not enough time, not enough vision. It is just so easy to slip into what Rory Holland called scarcity thinking - surely it is the root cause of our mental illness(es)? This morning, I don't think we are cured but we are... reprieved? A reminder of our true abundance is a gift gift gift and it took off the edge. At least for today, and for today, that is enough. E.N.O.U.G.H.

In the meantime, I was reading from a blog that Katie recommended many moons ago called The Happiness Project, and specifically a post on having children that seemed like yet another holy whisper.

Some background: at some point in our homegroup history, we tried to develop or think on mission statements for ourselves and/or our families. Where I ended was in the Beatitudes, "Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness for they will be satisfied." Knowing how easy and inherent Scott and my dis-satisfaction seems to be, I thought that the promise of satisfaction was a good one for us to tuck away. And then I started learning about what righteousness is and the summary definition I ended up with was "Standing where we ought to be" and in particular the gift Jesus gave of being able to stand in front of the Father. So our Family Mission was (is) to Stand Where We Ought to Be. And while it is true and a good fit for us, I haven't really thought about it a lot since.

But then I read this this morning and it was such good news:

Feeling right is an essential component of happiness. I don’t think that parents-to-be fool themselves that parenthood is all fun. They might not exactly anticipate what’s going to hit them with that first baby, but they know it’s not all playgrounds and valedictorian addresses.

There are times when feeling right means feeling bad. Consider a commute. Studies show (surprise!) that a bad commute is a real downer, and one to which we never adapt. But you might choose to have a bad commute in order to live in a neighborhood with good schools. Once your kids are in the good school, you’ll adapt to that circumstance, and it won’t be a source of feeling good, and the commute will make you feel bad every day. But it’s worth it, because you feel right about your trade-off.

Even though they may means less feeling good, and more feeling bad, I think children contribute mightily to happiness.

Also, they contribute to the atmosphere of growth that is important to happiness (and part of my formula). Seeing them learn, change, and grow boosts happiness.

I like thinking that happiness is in fact a combination of feeling good, feeling bad, feeling right and being in an atmosphere of growth. It is confirmed by our own experience together, of feeling bad right in the middle of being so happy these days. We feel like we are in the right place in so many ways, especially when we lie in bed on a Friday morning feeling the Bean move around. When we wipe down the kitchen together after the last friend has left with a syrup-fueled child in tow. Those things are so right, and we are so happy.

The things that are not right... well, they are there too, but this morning they are less important. And they are tempered by my deep faith that God's promise is to satisfy our hunger and thirst for this righteousness, that He will lead us to the Right Place in all those other, not-yet-right things that remain.

There may be more to say about this but that's all I have for this morning.

A.

For Scott

It is an unusually attractive child, isn't it?

Yes, I have turned into *that* mother. And I'm not even joking. I really do think he/she is one of the prettier ultrasound babies I have seen. Probably the big head makes them a bit cuter than normal. But you see it too, don't you? You know, deep in your heart, that that is one cute baby.

The photo was taken at 20 weeks and we are coming up on 24 this Friday. More than halfway done. Imagine that.

My belly is looking more pregnant too, although on bad days I'm convinced I just look chubby. I am a bit (not) surprised by how much pride I have in my skinny-ness, pride that is only being exposed now that I am not so skinny. The out-of-controlness of the whole body change is a bit disturbing, and I think probably just the first of many experiences like this (yes Mom, I've been listening to your menopause thoughts!).

I am right now loving being pregnant. I love feeling this one move around and make themselves known. It is quite magic-making really - I had no idea. I can sit with my hands on my belly for hours at a time, waiting for any adjustment, any random move. And then when they're not random, when they feel like an orchestrated work-out, I just laugh. The kid cracks me up. What are they doing in there? a full minute of drumming and beating against the walls and I am laughing outloud. It just seems so ... preposterous!

The other day Scott took a listen to the belly but couldn't hear much and decided to start tapping to "wake the baby up". A bad habit that I'm trying to break. Suddenly Scott jumps up laughing - "The baby just kicked me in the face!" What is not to love about that? Our clever child already knows their father is going to be a bit annoying (he/she just kicked - surely in agreement? we are that in tune, the wee one and I).

I asked Scott last night when we forget what a wonderful gift this child is - he suggested I ask my mom, but thought it was probably likely to happen. I must say that even with my better-than-average self-esteem, it's hard to imagine having ever been so completely wonderful to anybody, even my mom. And to extend that to all the difficult people in the world and think that they too were an unimagined delight to their mother, all tucked away in her womb... well, you'd think it would make me a better person really. Not so much, but it does make me glad to have this moment too. So thankful to have this treasured away.

I get a bit sad to think it will pass, to think that once they arrive and make themselves known, they will become less perfect, less wonderful, less-thankful-making.

But not today. Today he/she is perfect and lovely and a source of deep gladness. My fears are less fearfull these days, and for that I am very thankful too.

Okay, is that enough? I think it's all I have for today.