Because I’m Happy

by Lisa Rector

When I was a young single adult, I had a friend who constantly told me I wasn’t happy. This shocked me. I couldn’t comprehend, for one, how he could determine this in me, and two, I didn’t see how I wasn’t happy. Maybe, because I was a big flirt, he thought I was seeking for happiness in all the wrong places. The truth was, when I was single, I was living it up and enjoying life. I had so many pressures and stressors while I went through nursing school that on the weekends, I was a hopeless flirtatious bomb.

I didn’t care.

Then I married. Then I had children. I became a hostage to hormones running amuck in my body. I hated my daughter for the first six months of her life. I resented my husband for some unknown reason. All because chemicals told me I was unhappy. Until I experienced seven years in a mix of chemical and postpartum depression, I didn’t know what happiness truly was.

From the darkest abyss and wishing for death, to indescribable, the-only-way-to-understand-would-be-to-plug-your-spirit-into-mine-with-some-sort-of-mind-meld happiness. It’s not something you can express. When you’re happy, you feel it throughout your whole soul.

What’s my secret? I can explain it in a few phrases that will make you want to throw your tablet across the room, because you will say, “Duh. I’ve heard all this, but it’s not working for me.” Well, until the moment when you experience the change from unhappiness to bliss, you won’t really know what it means to be inexplicably happy.

Ready to throw your device?

The Light of Christ

The Atonement

The Plan of Salvation

Effort

Enjoy the moment

Find your purpose

Let it go

Count your blessings

If my God is with me, whom then shall I fear?

The formula is different for every single soul. But I will tell you. Because of the atonement, I conquered chemical depression. Because of my testimony in the Savior, I live each day with hope and peace. Because of the atonement, I am clean and light and free. Because I work my butt off every day to be still and let peace and beauty soak through me, I can breathe. I don’t fear evil. I rejoice in all that is good in life. I have purpose, even if it is only to get up every morning and hug my daughters. Even if it is just to lay beside my snoring husband and listen to his heartbeat.

My soul—my heart and spirit—want to rupture on occasion. The feeling is so hard to contain.

My daughters scream in embarrassment when I crank the music loud and dance in my kitchen, when I roll the window down and wave at everyone who drives by. When I make silly faces or when I start in on a lecture about how amazing the sunrise looks or how the rain makes everything look like a fairyland. Or how the squirrels and the rabbits bounce through the yard. I tell them to look at every good thing, look at every small moment, SEE what God has given us.

My only regret is that not everyone sees and not everyone feels this happiness.

The world would be so different if they did.

“Men are that they might have joy.” Be in that joy.

Now watch this.

Absolute joy with a squeeze from sweet sadness

by Suzanne Warr, aka Lily Black

Sunday was my son's birthday, and I won't lie, I teared up a couple times.  He's just shy of halfway through his mission, where he's serving for two years representing our church in Seoul, South Korea.  Monday I got a surprise call from Red Adept Publishing, telling me they'd like to publish my debut romantic thriller, and I'm not gonna lie, I teared up a bit.

Two lovely, joyful things.  Goals I've been working toward for years--and years, and years.  I also know my son is going to be so very thrilled for me, because we've hoped and prayed that any of my half dozen books in various stages of submission would be accepted for publication.  I had specific needs for my books, so I was being a bit selective, and am beyond happy that this particular book successfully navigated the strenuous dating process and found a publication match.  It's the story of two black belts who are each other exes, and a seriously unstable stalker.  It's also a story of hope, and forgiveness, and redemption.  One of the happiest things I've ever done was create my first facebook author page for my new pseudonym, Lily Black.

But, you guys!  Despite all the joy, there's a little tiny bit of sadness.  That most of the fuss and furor will have died down before my son finds out, this Monday.  That despite having been a part of this journey every step of the way and hoping for me more than anybody but maybe his dad and sis, he will be the last to know.  That I can't give him a hug, when he finds out.  That he may feel alone, because no one where he is--especially since he just lost his companion and is the third part of an already existing companionship--will get it, or have the history to understand this.

So, a little sadness.  But, where is joy, without sadness?

If you've seen Inside Out (one of my all time favorite movies) you know what I'm talking about...and if you've lived long enough to read this, you understand, too.  Kids can't grow up without leaving, scattered behind them, the precious, beautiful stages of life that were their little years.  The sun can't rise without saying good night to the twinkling stars.  And this particular answer to our prayers couldn't come without the separation--the sacrifice--of our son and my daughter's brother being away from his family--and every family time of growth and closeness--for two years.

I know this.  And in light of that knowledge, I'm giving myself two commandments.  One, to tear up a little, without guilt.  There is no shame in acknowledging sacrifice, or a little sadness.  And two, to embrace the joy, without holding back.  Embrace gratitude that any tears which slip out do so because my cup runneth over.  Then smile, and smile, and look forward to giving my son the biggest hug in the universe, when he comes home.

Wanna Play?

First off, I'd like to thank Valerie for allowing me to jump on board. I am so excited to be here, posting articles and rubbing shoulders with these great ladies!! 

I grew up in California, which was not easy for a pasty girl who loves to layer. But, one thing I did love was swimming. We didn't have a pool, but had many friends and neighbors who did. I spent many hours in the pool playing Marco Polo, doing tricks, playing with tubes, splashing, and just having fun.

As I grew older the swimming turned from playing in the pool, to basking by the side of the pool, lathered in suntan lotion. That was before they called it sunscreen. Yep, in the eighties it was all about getting tan. It only took a few painful episodes, however, to come to the realization that I had two colors: red and white. 

As a mom, my pool side basking morphed into life-guard duty slash referee as my gaggle of kids (yes, three feels like twelve in a pool) splashed, thrashed, played, and fought. I would dip into the pool some of the time, but as my weight grew, so did the time spent outside the pool.

A few weeks ago we had a 'heat wave' here in the Northwest. The temperature hit almost 90, and we were dying. A friend invited me and the kids over to swim in her in-ground swimming pool (one of like three in our entire county. Who needs a year-round pool in Washington?) 

We packed up our stuff and headed on over. I slathered on sun-block and settled into my spot next to the pool as the children played. They had a blast, and I enjoyed myself as well. . . until I got hot. Really hot.

So, I dipped my feet into the pool. And it felt good. I inched my way in until the water reached my neck, and it felt great. I ducked me head under--holding myself still for just a moment to soak in the coolness-- and it felt wonderful.

I bobbed around and floated on a pool mattress while the children played around me. After about an hour, I was about to get out when the kids decided to play a game called Shark. The little kids were excited because it was about the only game the big kids would actually play with them (think Marco Polo combined with tag on a group level with sharks). As I was making my way out of the pool, my son's friend (who is sixteen and hilarious) turns to me and says, "Hey, do you wanna play?"

A laugh escaped my lips. I don't think anyone has looked at me and asked, "Do you wanna play?" since I was kid. It sounded funny, but not as funny as how it made me feel. Suddenly, from somewhere deeper than the deep end of the pool, emerged a child-like giddiness. They want to play with me. And that little girl inside me wanted to play with them.

And I did. 

We played for over a hour, chasing, laughing, yelling, and swimming. For a while, I felt the joy of the pool I had experienced when I was a kid, and I loved it!

That got me thinking about life. 

As a kid, most of us played. We ran, laughed, pretended, and had a great time. Then we grew up. It's the natural way of things. Batting adolescent eyelashes and flexing budding muscles replaced Barbies and GI Joes. Then, dating, marriage and parenthood come.  Budgets, deadlines, and chores replace games, pretend play, and fun. 

It isn't a bad thing. It's just life.

But, somewhere along the way we can get stuck on the proverbial side of the pool, and forget that there is still fun to be had, and life to be lived. 

We can become so mired down by our grown-up ways that we either forget, or don't think, that playing is for us anymore.

Oh, but it is! God intends for us not only to have joy in life, but to have good, clean, fun. It doesn't necessarily have to be in a pool with kids (but I highly recommend that it).  If you are stressed out with financial burdens, bummed out by politics, exhausted by mothering duties, or down for any other reason, I say to you . . . "Hey, do you wanna play?"

Come on! Jump in. The water's warm. Splash around, laugh a little.

Of course we don't have a real pool to jump into--but jumping in and playing in your life may look like grabbing the kids and going to a movie. Or playing a board game. Or going out to lunch with a friend. You could steal your spouse away for a spontaneous date, or simply play the radio loud with the windows down while singing out loud.

Do something fun today. Play and laugh like you did when you were a kid. Lighten up, lighten your load, and give yourself permission to laugh.

Having fun--yes, playing-- is a part of life, even the life of a grown-up. So, do something fun today. Then, will you do me a favor, and come back here and tell me? That would be fun for me!!

Till next time . . .

Michelle

http://www.michellewilsonatlarge.com

http://allegoricallyspeaking.blogspot.com