Happiness and Wrinkles...

This photo was taken approximately three weeks after I was diagnosed with cancer.  It was late November and the portrait studio was crazy busy with the Christmas rush. The waiting room was full of families with little girls in foo-foo dresses, moms fussing at little boys to get off the dirty floor so not to mess up their clothes, exasperated dads, tired grandparents and grumpy employees.   I remember it all because it seemed so surreal to me then, and it seems surreal to me now.

I remember the day I scheduled the appointment.  I didn't care what day we got, or what time slot we filled.  I didn't care what we wore for the photos.  I didn't care that Austin needed a hair cut or that my hair hadn't been colored in more than eight weeks.  It didn't matter to me that the sleeves of Austin's shirt was nearly two inches too short, or that I couldn't tie my scarf to suit me.  All of these things would have sent me into mommy mayhem any other time.

Somehow, this time, none of it mattered.  I thought I was going to die, and this was going to be the last family photo we had taken.  I thought I had celebrated my last Thanksgiving and was coming upon my last Christmas.  I thought I was about to celebrate my son's last birthday, his 9th, and wondered if he would remember me or if I would fade into the blurred recesses of his mind.  I thought I would see my daughter turn 13, but not be here to help guide her through the trials of the teenage years.  I thought I was leaving my best friend to the fate of being a single dad, and I realized there was still so much I needed to tell him.  I realized I could tell them one thousand times a day how much I loved them and it would never be enough.

As I sat in that waiting room watching moms fuss over curls that wouldn't bounce and dresses that wouldn't fluff and shiny black shoes that scuff, I realized how much time I'd wasted in my own life worrying over the unimportant things.  As I watched moms herd children to the point of tears, which is unproductive while waiting for photos, I realized that a smile in a wrinkled dress, or a shirt that fits too small, or hair that isn't quite in place is far more important than the pasted on grins we force in perfect attire. 
Because we can have happy, or we can have the appearance of happy.  And a muddy, wrinkled true happiness is so much better than the perfect pristine appearance of happiness that hides a broken spirit.

These past few months have taught me so much about the things that are truly important.  My house isn't nearly as clean as it used to be.  My floors aren't mopped every week, my bathrooms aren't as clean as I like, my windows are cloudy and my sink is often full of dishes.  Instead my time is spent playing board games or sitting beside the pool with my kids.  We don't stick to a strict 6:00 dinner time any more because sometimes it's better to be spontaneous and fire up the grill than to rush through a scheduled family time.

I've also let go of the idea that I needed to please others and to earn their approval.  There are people in our lives that we will never be good enough for, that we will never be holy enough for, that we will never be _________ enough for.  Just when you fit into the mold they've designed for you, they change the mold.  Instead of worrying about those things, I've learned to be happy and blessed in the life God has given to me.  I've learned that I cannot make other people happy...some people are just unhappy...and only God can help them find true joy.  I cannot allow their unhappiness and need for control to steel my joy.

I've learned that my God is faithful and his grace truly is sufficient for me.  I have let go of legalistic viewpoints I've carried with me my whole life.  I am learning to let go of judgement and to let go of control.  God is in control of my life and whatever He sees fit to bring my way will be for my good and for His glory.

I have learned to let go of fear.  So many things used to frighten me; I feared losing my husband, I feared the choices my children would make, I feared judgment from others, I feared not being good enough.  I guess when you face death square in the face - and win - you lose all of that.

What I gained, however, was the knowledge of important things.  Five extra minutes with a cup of coffee, staying up late beside the fire pit having s'mores with my children, watching re-runs of old TV shows with my husband, laughing at myself and knowing deep down inside it's all going to be alright.

Last week I bought a ton of fire works for the kids - more than I usually buy.  If you're my neighbor, I apologize.  My son asked me why I was buying so much.  I told him, "Because I feel like celebrating this year."  You see, I didn't think I would be here to see July.  This year I celebrate Independence Day.  Not only for our country, but for myself.  I am free from the things that don't really matter, and I am learning to live, happy and healthy.  Even if my shirt is wrinkled and my hair is a mess!

Only By His Grace,

Billie