Since I Can't Live at the Beach

It was dark by six in the evening today.  In a little over two weeks we will turn the clocks backwards an hour.  That will mean it will be dark at five in the evening.  I don't see why we still perform this inane ritual.  I would prefer to stay on Daylight Saving's Time.  It seems to me that having it get dark at five in the evening is one of the main reasons so many of us in colder, darker parts of the country are impacted by SAD (Seasonal Affective Disorder).  Since I just passed several combines harvesting crops last night with their headlights blazing, they don't need the extra light to plant or harvest any longer.  As for saving energy, it seems that it would save more energy if we had more sunlight during the evening, not less.  When most families are home from school and work, a little longer sunlight would mean less electricity being used... even if only for an hour.

But, fall begins the time of year when many, myself included, begin to feel... blah.  For some, they are unaffected.  Some don't feel that "blah" until after Christmas.  For me, and others I know, we are very sensitive to light, or the lack of light.  Sunlight is a mood enhancer.  It uplifts moods.  In warmer weather, it provides much needed vitamin D that must be supplemented otherwise.

The winter gets to me.  The cold makes my body hurt. I have hypothyroidism, and the cold can be nearly intolerable at times.  Since I have gotten treatment, the symptoms aren't as severe, but they still exist.  I often am bundled up in layers with a heating blanket over me, a warm drink in my hands, and Hawaii 5-0 playing on Netflix.  Yes, I watch the tropical island show because seeing the sun and palm trees, even on television, shows me that the entire world is not a Popsicle.

Unfortunately, it doesn't look as if I will be moving to a warm, tropical environment any time soon.  God has placed me here, in this part of the world with hot hots and frigid colds and everything in between.  The colds seem to last the longest.  When summer arrives, and I can bask in the warm sunshine, I try to absorb as much as I can (without burning) and soak up the feeling of not being cold or hurting.  This is just one coping mechanism that has been beneficial.

I have held a secret belief that those that live in tropical paradises must be the happiest people in the world.   Since I can't live at the beach, I looked it up... just to see.  I was WRONG! Costa Rica is most 'tropical' country listed in the annual World Happiness Report... and they are number twelve.  Of course, that still beats the United States, which landed at number fourteen.  Yes, America is seventeenth in education, eleventh in Health Care (though ours is the most expensive), ninth in religious freedom (so much for Constitutional Freedom), and fourteenth in happiness.  However, we are the number one country of incarcerated people per capita.  We also are number one in Olympic Gold Medals, number of Universities, and charitable giving.  There are a few other things.  I'm not trying to trash America.

I was just shocked.  First, Americans are not a happy group of people, as a whole.  Of all the tropical environments, most of those don't make the "Happiness" list either. So, maybe living at the beach won't bring me happiness.  I still think it would sure help, but I will go with the averages for now.

Why in the world are the citizens of Norway and Denmark, countries that experience months of cold and dark, so happy?  And could what they practice help this SAD fighting, cold sensitive girl learn anything about dealing with the winters that seem to last and last?


Hygge...

This was all the rage a year ago.  I tend to be late on the "trends."  That's okay, because by the time I read about an idea or practice, it has been well researched and opinions are flowing freely.  I get the Kindle books cheaper than they were a year ago when the rage was new and books were being written to meet the demand.  I can read the anti-opinions about how this is anti-Christian, a trend that focuses on self and not on others.  I can also read the pro-opinions about how we can't give what we don't have, and it isn't a sin to light some candles, have some cozy light, and fellowship with friends and family in a positive atmosphere.

For a person that has looked for ways to not let winter get to me, including being given a gift of a "Happy" light that was bright, but didn't really help, I don't mind admitting that I see no problem with wanting to research this Danish practice of Hygge (pronounced Hoo-ga) that means coziness and fellowship with loved ones.  I am going to experience winter anyway, either by grumping my way through or by doing what I can to make the time pleasurable.

Not all of winter is bad.  I think it should be made clear that most of the people that struggle in the winter, either with SAD or with some downcast times, don't think it is all bad.  My favorite holiday is Thanksgiving.  I love gathering with family, eating yummy food, playing games and visiting, being PURPOSEFULLY THANKFUL for my blessings.  From what I can see of Hygge, this is taking that feeling from that day, and living the spirit of it all winter. 


I like the idea of winter lights, not Christmas lights.  While I don't want the colorful chasers all season, I can see using the soft white twinkling lights in my home.  I love the idea of a less cluttered area, with cozy blankets and family togetherness, to fight back against the dark outside.  Bring on the candles and books!  And, as for getting fresh air daily, that will be cold, but getting out into the sunshine, limited as it may be, could still be beneficial, even if in small bits.

 The more I read, the more I don't understand why anyone in a cold, dark part of the country would ever think this is horrible.  Yes, like anything, it can be taken too far, where the focus is on our own comfort excessively.  One description I read talked about "practicing contentment" - "Contentment that comes from appreciating shelter from the elements, food around the table for a shared meal, or being alone with a good book."

  I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want.

I can do all this through him who gives me strength.  Philippians 4:12-13

 

Can I say I am content whether the weather is 80 degree Fahrenheit or -10 degrees Fahrenheit?  Am I content whether the sun is shining or the snow is blowing?  Am I content whether it's fresh veggies from the farmer's market or crock pot chili?   Am I as content when it is dark at five in the afternoon as I am when I am waiting for dusk after nine at night on Independence day so we can watch fireworks?  Am I as content in the dreary, bleak February days as I am in the July sun by the pool?

 

If I am not, what can I do to help?

 

 I am not going to lie and say that the aching in my body doesn't get to me, or the bitter cold that burns my lungs when I breath is what I want.  However, this is where God has me.  And this is where I need to make the time as pleasant as possible, to have a good attitude, to find things to bring out the best of each season.  If God wants me elsewhere, He will open those doors.  Wishing for a life I don't currently have is a waste of time.  My family is here.  As much as I love the ocean, I love my family more.

 

Somehow the idea of Hygge, while not unfamiliar, is not one that I have ever encountered in this way.  We all try in some way, to add little bits of joy to our winters.  I just had never thought about it being a way of life.  For those in Norway and Denmark, where they spend so many months of the year in the cold, this has become a way of life for survival purposes.  To think that they have taken this way of life and made it center, to the point that they are the top two happiest countries in the world, is pretty incredible. This is purposeful living, to light candles and create a cozy sanctuary in the harshest times outside.   

 

I was surprised that, in many ways, the principles here go along with what I believe are more simple, minimalist principles that are important to me.  I don't want some complicated, expensive concept that I can't achieve unless I take my already full schedule and meager finances and stretch them even more.  

 

I did buy candles.  That was a joy, though, and I love the candles around me when I am studying for classes or relaxing in my bath.  

 

Winter will come, whether I am finding ways to cope or allowing it to drag me into a down depressive state.  I choose to find ways to be upbeat and positive, to fill my life with Jesus and family and contentment and coziness.  We all have choices, in our attitudes, in the way we fill our environment, in our thoughts, in what we choose as our focus.  I can choose to focus on the dark and cold, or I can fill my environment with light and warmth and family and moments of introvert heaven.   

Sometimes You Should Ignore the Statistics

Sixty-seven percent of second marriages end in divorce.

It was tough.  Some days were so difficult I wondered if we would end up being part of the sixty-seven percent.  

When I consider the things we endured, the odds against us, the gut-wrenching defeats and the years of scraping by, the children with life-threatening illnesses, the heartbreaking losses mixed with blessings only we saw; I can only give God the credit.

So many times, I didn’t want to continue.  Sharing even bits of our testimony is difficult, for we walked paths that were very dark at times.  And yet, in that darkness, we sought the Light.  Sometimes we only had enough illumination to see where we were, not the next step.  Those were taken in faith. 

I only have to remember who I was to know how blessed I am.  Angry, bitter, so desperate for love, a soul that knew rejection and abandonment intimately. I was a single mom, working for minimum wage, fighting to keep a roof over the heads of my girls, fighting to keep my girls.  A friend introduced me to this rock and roll bass player with a tiny, two-year old cherub. 

I had not known what a father could be.  Mine hadn’t been around much.  I hadn’t seen it in the men around me.  But this man was different.  He was raising his daughter.  He was patient with her.  He was tender and loving.  He put her needs before his own, and that gave me hope that not all men were like the ones I had seen.

Dating turned into a relationship.  A relationship turned into a marriage proposal and a baby on the way.  We did it all wrong, all backwards.  We were both single parents.  We married just months after we met.  We had a baby a few months after that.  Suddenly we were this family of six.  We had to buy a mini-van to fit the kids.  

The struggles and battles began in earnest.  Finances, exes, custody, all mixed with the baggage from the past that just refused to stay there.  We stumbled and struggled.  I ranted way too often.  He closed down on me several times.  We kept going.

Then came the bigger things, the things that took any foundation we had and obliterated it.  One child was sick.  Another wasn’t safe.  We approached it very different, had different personalities disagreeing.  We didn’t know what to believe, who to trust.  Most don’t truly know how hard it was at that time. 

And then came a couple phone calls that began a very slow change in the physical, but enormous changes in the spiritual.  A dad that listened, a Pastor that gave some advice, and my husband went to the church that had held very little draw to him up to that point, and he gave his life to Jesus.

I could battle the exes.  I could fight for my kids.  I could even fight for justice, but I didn’t know how to battle against a husband with peace in the midst of chaos.  Even I could feel the supernatural battle...  and that was an uncomfortable feeling to have.  

I was enraged by the circumstances we found ourselves in that August 2005.  I still remember the exact date... August 5, 2005.  I still remember the scared words from a little girl.  I still remember the angry but protective feeling taking over my heart. How does a parent deal with what we dealt with without being consumed?  

I also remember that moment, just weeks later, broken in a church that I didn’t want to step a foot inside, fighting a battle in my heart between that overwhelming anger and the deepest desire for that elusive peace I saw in my husband.

That moment didn’t change the circumstances.  It would be years, and long, desperate, expensive battles, before those circumstances would change in our favor.  The anger didn’t leave me immediately either.  In fact, that battle sometimes still gets the best of me. But there was hope.

In the twelve years since, we have stuck by each other.  We had another daughter, making us seven. We watched many of our children grow into amazing adults.  We grew in our faith.  We lost everything we had built materialistically.  We cried and laughed and cherished.  We served.  

We kept pressing on.  We didn’t become a statistic of failure.  

Are there still struggles?  Yes. We may be older and, hopefully, wiser, but there are still times that overwhelm.  There are still children with health issues.  There are still financial stresses.  There are still these two personalities that don’t always see life the same way. The rocker and the bookworm, the mellow and the type A, the slow-paced and the in a hurry...  still somehow complementing each other instead of conflicting all the time.  And there is still a love that we hold for each other.  This is still a battle where we fight for each other, even when it is hard.

There is still Jesus.  No matter what changes in our world, He is a stable foundation, a true north, to guide us.   I know that I know that there wouldn’t have been eighteen years together if Jesus hadn’t stepped into our chaotic, messed-up midst with His presence. 

I want to continue to beat the statistics.  I want to continue our journey with our Lord.  I want to continue to cherish the memories we make.  I want to continue to plan hiking trips and family gatherings.  And new adventures await as well.  

God has blessed us, and I am so very thankful that He didn’t leave me who I was.  I have to only remember who I was to know how blessed I am. 

Reading Journals

I would like to thank Sarah MacKenzie of Read Aloud Revival for making her master class on reading journals available for everyone.

If you don't know who Sarah MacKenzie is in the homeschool realm, she is the author of the blog and host of the podcast, Read Aloud Revival.  She also is the author of the book, Homeschooling From Rest.  She recently posted a class, which normally would be a part of her premium membership.  I have listened to Sarah's podcast for a couple of years now, and she is fun and excited and knowledgeable.  She interviews incredible children's authors, homeschooling leaders, curriculum writers, and more.

I went the very next day and bought the journals to use as reading journals, both for me and my youngest daughter.  I set them up, and my daughter and I are off and running!

What are Reading Journals?

Reading journals are an amazing idea that, as a bookworm, I should have thought of earlier.  I wish someone had told me about the idea years ago.  Basically, the front of the book is list of books you have read.  You can put the author, the pages in the book, or whatever description you want.  I keep a running list every year of the books my children read in their planners.  For my personal reading, I began keeping a list on Pinterest last year.

However, a reading journal is more than simply a list of books read.  What makes the reading journal so special is that, after a few pages for the book list, you create a common place area.  The rest of the journal is full of whatever you desire to help you interact with the book and make it  yours.  I am following Sarah's lead and putting in quotes from the books I am reading that touch me in some way.  However, I could see an artistic person adding in artwork.  I could see even adding in personal thoughts or Scripture.  I might do some of that eventually, as I get used to interacting with my books.  After all, reading books can be a bit like a conversation with the characters or the author.  There can be some deep thinking about concepts.

I am curious how my ten year old will interact with her reading journal as time goes by.  She loves writing and drawing and creating.

What is best is that, in years to come, these journals are wonderful keepsakes.  Almost like a diary, they tell about the history of a person, the thoughts in their minds, the things that touched their hearts, the reading material that formed who they were.  I wish I had reading journals from when I was a child.  Other than a diary, there isn't a better way to look back and see what was influencing me at a certain age.

Books are holders of knowledge.  They are reflections of our hearts.  They are the stories that shape us.  Engaging with a book on a personal level means that the story becomes more than just a story, it becomes a part of you.  Concepts and lessons are taught very easily through story.  I believe this is why Jesus used parables to teach lessons and engage His disciples.  Stories impact the world unlike any other method of teaching.

We are just beginning our reading journals. I am entrenched in a couple of novels at this time, and find myself reading a little differently.  I am looking for passages that touch me.  I am still enjoying the story, or taking in the information.  Now, when a passage catches my attention, I don't just share a quote on Facebook or underline (highlight in my Kindle) the words, I copy them into my reading journal.  I find the passages in the children's stories I read to my daughter, and in the enchanting Baxter Family brought to life by Karen Kingsbury.  It's like receiving messages from the authors or characters.  The thoughts and words and lessons are stored, an interaction has occurred, and a piece of the book becomes a piece of me.

Sarah suggests not making the journals into "school."  I agree.  I don't want to damage the heart of reading, the joy that my daughter gets from reading by making it an assignment.  I want to add to her love of reading, not detract from it.  And so, the stories that make us who we are are engaged in with these reading journals in a special, individual way.  It's beautiful and holds a depth that cannot be compared to "school."  Books are about so much more than the academic lessons we call "school."