A better container.

I had a birthday on the weekend and I spent some time thinking, as I always do, about the last year and the coming year. Fater a birthday call with my sister first and then my brother, sister-in-law, niece, and parents, I walked away from the computer with that feeling that only comes with the bigger holidays— happiness for a good Skype call and a deep sadness at missing them for so long. 

Then I folded that sadness right up and put it under my necklace, next to my collarbone, and went to bake some cakes. I’ve become very good at holding a lot of sadness I thought. But I don’t think I’m very good at joy.  

It’s true. I can live with sadness well, I’ve learned how to grit my teeth and keep making food through hormonal lows and anxiety. To be faithful. But happiness? How do you do that? And I think God wants me to be happy. I don’t mean that God wants me to do whatever I want in the name of happiness (I need to write a book called Wash, Bow, Love) but that he is sometimes waiting for me to open my heart and know that I am allowed to feel happy. I don’t have to scrap around for reasons I shouldn’t be happy. I can look at that sunlight and know that dinner is going to be good and we’re at peace and we might even have some fun.

So here it is- this year- Happiness! Joy. Peace. Lightheartedness. Cheerfulness. A good sense of humor. 

I’m making playful art. 

I’m playing more board games with my kids.

And I’m taking selfies. I’ve been a bit of a snob about selfies, like why do you need so many pictures of yourself? Preferring to be behind the camera. But what I see when I look around the internets and find friends who have a lot of photos of themselves is that they are being joyful. Or at least saying, “Let’s be happy for this photo right now,” and of course, doing something happy leads to being happy. Dear friends, if you are struggling with a deep depression I am not advising you to “act happy,” this is not for you. But for me, I am coming out from under the postpartum cloud (I just weaned Isaac) and I am in the habit of containing sorrow. I want to be a container for joy. I like the way self portraits say, “I was here and maybe this other person was here too and we were being silly and I don't care about eye wrinkles or my wolf tooth, I'll show it all off and it was just another day but we will remember it.” 

This is the year for it. I know it. I'm pretty sure that it’s going to be an amazing year (almost as if God is just pouring the blessings on right now), and I have a book nearly ready to publish and I’m painting, and money is not something I should worry about, and my husband is going to get better and my preteens are lovely, my toddler is adorable and my middle boys still cuddle me. We’re holding meditations and gardening at Shekina. Friends are coming, friends are here, the rain has come back and the sky can sometimes be so, so blue.