Choosing Joy

Three years ago, nearly to the day, I wrote this post. I wrote a little more in the next couple weeks, and those of you who have followed the blog know that our lives have been challenging since then. In reality, our lives have always been challenging. But this morning, I went back to what I wrote on February 10, 2016, five days after the most traumatic tragedy to ever touch our family. You know what I found? I found the peace that passes understanding* through the 23rd Psalm, and I found joy.

My life has not been peaceful all the time, or even most of the time, but there have been joy and peace. To be honest, as I look back at that post, I am a little astonished. I see what I wrote, and I wonder how I wrote it. It was an awful time, it is still awful to even think about the night that murder became a family memory. The days and questions that followed on the heels of an unthinkable crime, and the depression that has haunted most of our family members ever since, these are the things that make peace and joy seem unattainable. 

Still, through all the change and hurt and confusion and helplessness, I continue to be comforted by God's word and my brothers and sisters in Christ. I am so thankful to be "leaning, leaning, leaning on the everlasting arms" of the Father, redeemed through the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. I do not have it all figured out, and despite the smiley face I slap on every day, I do not have it all together. But I have something better: Faith in Jesus, and in the knowledge that I am a beloved child of God; Hope that this life will continue to bring me closer to Christ every day, and help me to bring others close to him as well; and Love for a God who loved me before I ever considered what being lovable really looks like, and his love for me...a love that never fails.** 

You know what else I have? Joy. In the midst of pain or pleasure, I have joy. In the midst of trials or triumphs, I have joy. In the midst of heartache or happiness, I have joy. Joy is not something that just happens. I have to make a concerted effort to choose joy every day, sometimes every hour or every minute even...so I do.

You and I live in an imperfect world, a fallen world, filled with imperfect and hurting people who can suck the life right out of a person. But, we have a choice. No matter what is happening outside of us, we can choose joy on the inside...and pray for others to do the same, even the life-suckers. A little kindness can go a long way, especially on a frustrating day. Being kind to others may help them find their joy, or at least stop trying to steal yours, and helping others find joy will bring you joy as a side effect. 

Somebody once asked me how I pursue joy, how I get through this imperfect life without losing my optimistic outlook. My answer was this: "No matter where you are, it only takes a minute to smile and be nice, and I usually have a minute." I wish it had been some insanely profound, super-Christian answer, but the truth is that joy is pretty simple. Joy, like love, is multiplied when we give it away. So I smile at the grumpy cashier, the guy who rides his three-wheeler in the park with a permanent scowl, the exasperated mom wrangling three screaming kids...and sometimes it seems to help. Sometimes I even get a smile back...and sometimes not...but that does not matter. 

What matters is that I have reached waaay down on a hard day to find a smile and share it.  I have chosen joy, even when I felt like scowling back or rolling my eyes with a big, discontented sigh. But I do my best to choose joy. Also, I knit a lot. 

Some days will always be better than others, but joy is a choice that you and I are always free to make. Choose wisely friends.

Thanks for stopping by, and Knit Joyfully in Good Health! 

*Philippians 4:7

**1 Corinthians 13:13; Psalm 136

Winter Wallaby One

Comfortable Constant

After a lovely Thanksgiving with family, 

we had a nice, relaxing Black Friday at the Pretty house. There was no shopping (save for picking up a few groceries), but there was a bit of decorating.

Not much, just the tree and lights. The ornaments are still in the attic, and the cats are just getting used to this. I will probably grab the boxes and finish putting out the Christmas this weekend but at this moment, I am enjoying the quiet of my sleepy cottage, my Minnie pants and my first pair of Christmas socks this season!

I am sure there will be a couple of Christmas cats thrown in for good measure at some pont today, 

but for now they are happy over there, playing with their Amazon box. 

As it turns out, they LOVE the Christmas season, what with all its boxes, and dangly things and curly ribbons and crinkle-y wraps...and I am also a fan. There is just something about shopping for gifts (in person, online, however you do it), wrapping them, baking treats that make the whole house smell yummy, and glazing over in front of the Christmas tree with a holiday movie...and maybe some holiday knitting!

There is not as much secret knitting going on in 2017 as in years past, but there is some...yet I know that my dear readers will not spoil the surprise...right?!? Right. So, here's another peek...

This year will probably bring some new traditions, even though the grandkids will not be in town until after the big day...Christmas concerts and Christmas Eve services at a new church, hope and joy as the family finds new reasons to celebrate, and the tried and true traditions of Hallmark movies and It's a Wonderful Life!

So much same. So much different. Christmas is a comfortable constant, and I am thankful for this. I am thankful for a time to specifically celebrate the birth of a Savior...although this and his resurrection are something I celebrate all year, it is nice that the media gives me a constant backdrop of festive in December. I am thankful for the memories I hang on my tree each year, and a time to admire them and remember a little Christmas past (without a ghost!) all through the month. I am thankful for the hope of new beginnings that the promise of a New Year will bring!

I hope you will join me in celebrating this month. If you like the idea of Christmas concerts and festivities, maybe you will even consider joining me for an hour at church...it is just down the street, and I would love to share in the festivities with friends! Whatever your faith traditions are, I hope that you are thankful, and that you know I am thankful for your friendship.

Thanks for stopping by, and Knit (and celebrate) in Good Health!

Year in Review

Today is New Year's Eve, and it is most likely that I will not do anything particularly celebratory today, or as the new year turns over tonight. Still, this day does make me reflect. 2016 was some year. At the end of 2015, also a hard year, I was so hopeful that the new year would bring new hope, joy and peace. In review, 2016 brought new challenges, experiences and heartache. Still, there was hope, joy and (eventually) peace, and I am thankful that I have made it through. My obligatory reflection this year is focused on my faith, and it was prompted by a question posed to me this week...a question that really made me think. 

The magic question, which came unexpectedly from a relatively new friend, was this: "Are you afraid of death?" 

My answer was quick and sure. No. Unlike poor Mr. Scrooge, I am not afraid of death. I am a bit fearful of the process of dying, and when that comes for me and those I love, I am hopeful that it will be quick and not uncomfortable. However, even if it is painful when my time comes to cross over, I will not be afraid, because I cling to God's promise that I will spend an eternity with him. Because I have accepted his Son, Jesus, as my Lord and Savior, God will look past my unworthiness, and he will welcome me to his heavenly kingdom as a beloved daughter. There will be no more tears or pain or heartache...only praise and love and joy and peace!

In 2016, I suffered a deep depression. I experienced the tragic death of loved ones and the destruction of relationships. There has been job loss and rejection, and the threat of divorce after 29 years of marriage. I stopped knitting. I lost myself this year, and I considered suicide in a very real way. But through it all, I clung to God, and he offered me hope. Hope in his promises. Hope in new relationships and jobs. Hope in healing for my marriage. (He also brought me hope through medical and psychological treatment, which are a very important part of my recovery...but this is not a medical or psychology blog. It's a Pretty blog...)

With my hope restored and my faith renewed, I was able to love again. Faith, hope and love are restored to me, and the greatest of these is love (1 Corinthians 13). With my faith and hope in tact, I can love God and his creation. I can love the lovely and the unlovely, and I can love myself again, because God loved me first. Thanks be to God!

If I had to pick one word to sum up 2016, I'd probably say that this year has been...interesting. I have grown as a person and as a Christian, but the road has been full of nasty potholes, and there has been some damage to my suspension. Even so, I will enter 2017 as a better and stronger person than I was when 2016 rolled around a year ago, and I am thankful for that. There is much to learn from tragedy, but I am ever hopeful that there will be less tragedy in the new year.

What's your word for 2016? And what are you hoping for 2017?

My hope is the same this year as last, that the new year will bring renewed hope, joy and peace to my life and the lives of my loved ones. Oh, and more knitting. I hope there will be even more knitting!

Thanks for stopping by today, dear readers. I wish you hope, joy and peace in 2017 and beyond.

Knit in Good Health!

Pray First, Pay Later

First of all, Happy 2015! I hope that this year brings more of what you're looking for, and less of what you're not, and I hope that you will Knit in Good Health! I also hope that you will find the time to foster relationships and be kind. Kindness doesn't take much time, but kindness changes lives, in as little as 17 minutes...
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It was just 17 minutes. A little more than a quarter of an hour. A little less than a third. It was a tiny portion of my day, but God had me there for a reason. I'm so glad I didn't miss it...

I went to Office Max on Friday morning, a not so unusual start to my work day. While I was there, waiting for a 24 x 36, color poster print job to process, I noticed an old man...he was also waiting for a print job. The clerk waiting on us was new-ish to the job (less than 3 months, he had told me a bit earlier), and he seemed to be having a difficult time communicating with the old man, but I kind of just ignored it. I was sitting in a nearby chair, keeping an eye on the poster as it printed, and checking Facebook on my phone.

Then, my poster came off the printer, and the clerk called me back to the desk to pay. The old man was in the way, and he showed no signs of moving, but I wasn't in a big hurry. I did not try to rush him, just stood quietly next to him as he collected himself and some papers into the file folder in front of him. The clerk seemed a little antsy, but he caught my eye, gestured to the credit card reader and mouthed the words, "No hurry. Whenever you're ready." The old man and I were currently his only customers.

I knew that his print job was none of my business, but the old man turned to me and said sheepishly, through an accent I couldn't place (Polish I think), "I'm so sorry. I will get out of your way. It's just that I have to get this done for my funeral at 2 o'clock." He pointed to the folder. "My wife died last week, and there is so much to do today..." At this, I looked more closely at the folder, still open, where I saw a color photo of his wife and the words to How Great Thou Art and another hymn taped in place, along with a shaky, hand-written obituary on the right side of the page. He just kept looking down at the folder.

"I'm sorry," I said, placing a hand on his shoulder. He looked up at me, and his eyes welled with tears. 

"57 years!," he replied, with pride in his voice. "She was 93 years old, and I took care of her. No," he paused, "we took care of each other. We lived through World War II, we traveled to 48 states. I loved her with all that I am, and now I am alone." At this, he motioned with a weathered index finger to a poem on the back of the paper. It was copied from an announcement printed for their 50th wedding anniversary in 2007. The last lines of the poem were, and he read them aloud,

----"The view ahead is one of the best - 

-----Just a little further, and then we can rest.

-----We move more slowly, but together still, 

-----Let me hold your hand, as we go downhill."

-------------------------(Peggy Cameron King)

"Now, I can not hold her hand anymore," he continued in that accent that was definite, but not too thick. "57 years, and I don't think I have cried at all. Today, I can not stop crying." He turned away, and I offered all that I had, which was just a tissue, and my heart was broken for him.

He told me of their son, who needed full-time care due to brain damage sustained in some kind of accident long ago. He told me they had always taken care of this boy, now a man who needs diapers and cannot speak, but they took care of him and loved him together. Their love for each other, and for their son, was obviously epic. Love that was a choice, honored through good times and bad, in sickness and health, for richer and poorer...57 years of epic love blinded me as he talked about his beautiful wife and their beautiful life. Now, he was on his own. For the first time in 57 years, he was alone.

I stood there and talked with him for a few minutes more, mostly listening. I remarked that I thought his choice of hymns was perfect, then I asked if I could pray with him. He agreed, so I did. I placed one of my suddenly young-looking, 46-year-old hands between his weathered palms, and the other on his sagging shoulder. I prayed a portion of the 23rd Psalm, and asked God to give him strength and peace, in Jesus's name. The old man crumpled into my arms, and we wept together. 

He shared a bit more, then thanked me for the gift of my time. Through his own tears, he promised to also pray for me and my family, "...that God's richest blessings would come to you all." I cannot begin to imagine his grief today, but I know that he and his wife love the Lord, and each other. They loved with an epic love, and I am thankful that he shared a portion of his story with me. It is rare to get a glimpse of love that big here, on earth. I gave him one final hug, paid for my poster, and promised that I would be praying for him today and in the weeks to come. I will keep my promise.

I did have some knitting to talk about, but that will have to wait for another day. Today, I want to remind everyone, everywhere, to never underestimate the impact a few minutes can make. A little time, a sympathetic ear, and perhaps a prayer can really do a lot to encourage a fellow human being who may be struggling in shadows we know nothing about. 

PS - the whole time, that new clerk kept catching my eye, and saying, "No hurry. Whenever you're ready." Thanks, Lord, for giving me time to to pray for a stranger this morning. How Great Thou Art, indeed. 

4 Things I am Hoping For. . .

Less knitting this week than I would like, but I have hope!

Is there anything more hopeful than a snowy mailbox with the flag up? I was thinking that this morning as I put some mail out at work, so I went back in to get my camera. The pristine, pure white crystals falling gently into the fluff on top of the box was too much to not try to capture. And, in the middle of a snowy, gray winter, hope is a good thing. Here are 4 things I am hoping for:

Spare time with daylight, which will come in a month or two.
New yarn. . .really, what knitter isn't hoping for new yarn?
Opportunities to get together with friends - see "S" above!
World Peace - I know, I know! Every beauty queen says that. Forgive me.

Keep your hopes and dreams alive this winter, and Knit in Good Health!