Hobby Lobby Tears

Last night I entered, in person, through the doors of a Hobby Lobby store about an hour from where I live.

I try never ever go there in person to shop.  Not because I don’t like the store… I actually LOVE the store. Oh, the happiness that store stocks on it’s shelves is second to none!

I needed to purchase a gift card, a gift for someone I love. That was the only item I NEEDED.

It’s at this point I need to quickly back up and interject a recent little pact I made with myself on behalf of my current spending, and the amount of bills sitting in their envelopes that are due and sitting on the desk beside me.

In years prior I used to pick something at the beginning of the year that I would not purchase for that entire year. One year it was books. One year it was jewelry. One year it was clothes. One year was no in person or online registrations to any running races. I could be gifted these items, but I myself could not purchase them for myself. And I actually always carried through each year.

This year I had not put down any spending restrictions (and it shows, LOL). 2023 was a financially hard year for us. Income tax nearly killed us due to some unexpected American economy / production issues (in specifically, within the car industry) – and would then prove to be a ridiculously hard medical year for us. Braces for the teenager, the hubby had a heart attack, staph infection, and a few other unexpected health issues. Medication costs, lack of coverage, lack of availability, AND the amount of personal time and effort also nearly did us in in 2023. New furnace, air conditioner, water heater… along with issues with the dishwasher, dryer, garbage disposal, and probably something else I can’t even remember also helped us finish out the year even more in the red. Do I need to continue? No. Ok thanks.

I know we are NOT alone in these struggles of all of this ridiculousness called “adulting.”

We plowed into 2024 with high hopes of somehow leaving the dramas of 2023 behind us in the dust. But that wasn’t exactly the case. It never is, right?

We did decide to go forward with an anniversary trip we had planned. It was a significant expense. But 20 years of marriage together is also significant, right? We are not guaranteed tomorrow, we are not guaranteed tomorrow together – so we booked and took the trip.

And it was beyond amazing. Beyond. No words, and all the words.
Take the trip – eat the cake – buy the shoes. Well… ok maybe don’t buy the shoes. ;-)

No seriously, I recently sat myself down and had a long conversation with myself. We discussed our love for “things” -for pretty things that make us feel pretty, for fun things that make us feel fun, for collectable things that make us feel full and complete…. Ect, again I won’t go on because we all know this draw to spend and have. We all have the inner drama between justification of the spend vs the output of the happiness received.

Even though at the very same time I also fight against the “having” and “getting” and tell myself I don’t actually need anything and have no reason to be spending in the way that I am and do.

So at the end of that conversation, myself and I came to terms and set some spending boundaries from now through the end of the year. What small sacrifices am I able to instill in my life right now when it comes to money? All money not spent, is to be considered saved, and to be put towards the bills pouring in (which some is from our own choosing and some not).

From now through the end of the year I cannot purchase for myself any: new books, new clothes / shoes / jewelry or new mugs. No new scrapbooking supplies, no new craft paper. No spending money on coffee. No drive through coffee and no store bought coffee (until everything in my house right now is completely gone). No spending on anything unnecessary and not of actual “need.” (Yippie – that means I’m still allowed to purchase toilet paper and tooth paste and laundry detergent ~LOL)

I told a few people my pact with myself – to help hold myself accountable and to just show I’m at least attempting to do “something” forward movement.

And… enter Hobby Lobby. Literally.

I was alone. I slowly touched and looked at a million beautiful things that I loved and adored and wished I could take home with me. Stacks of the most beautiful papers (which were also all 40% off this week) Faith plaques and stones and angel wing décor. Pale pink room decorations that I would have loved to redecorate the spare room with in honor and memory of Faith. And a few perfect perfect coffee mugs that would have held and served up the most delicious coffee in. I was taking photos and sending them to my friend. The one I told to hold me accountable to my said spending restrictions.

I finally picked up the little gift card from the bottom of my empty cart and checked out. My heart was heavy. I was sad, I’m not going to lie.

I walked out the door and was met with an amazing sky filled with clouds and a sunset painted only from Heaven’s finest angels. And I cried for a little while as I sat in my car in the parking lot.

My new car. A beautiful expensive new to me car that was given to me by my husband as a surprise Christmas gift (which would end up finally becoming a different new car (but one that actually “worked”) birthday gift 3.5 months later.) Which is a very long, painful story which I am currently not going to share. Perhaps someday. Maybe not. It’s quite a story actually – invite me to coffee sometime and I’ll tell you the whole thing ;-). Oh wait – I can’t buy myself coffee right now, so maybe just invite me to meet you in the park or something where nothing is required to be purchased, and I’ll share the full tale ;-)

Did I NEED a new car? Kind of, maybe, but not “really really”. Did I DESERVE a new car? My mind will tell me hells to the no I don’t deserve anything this nice. Do I LIKE the new car? I’d be lying if I said I don’t. Heated seats, heated steering wheel, back up camera, listening to my phone through the car speakers, third row seating, not worrying about it breaking down if I drive out of town… I’m human – these are amazing luxuries I lived without before, but really would NOT want to go backwards and give them up now that I’ve experienced them.

I drove home in my new to me car with my gift card, listening to a pod cast on… happiness.

I will wrap the gift card up and I honestly can’t wait to gift it to the person who will get to walk through those same doors and get to pick a few of their favorite fun things from there to get to take home to their house. I will tell them they have to send me selfies with what they get. And that WILL bring me great joy – more legit joy than any of the beautiful things I touched and longed for as I walked myself through the store last night.

Part of my brain knows this. And part of my brain is loudly hollering its denial.

I don’t need anything. I’m human and I want lots of things. I have envy and greed and great selfishness.

My parking lot tears were from being mentally and physically exhausted after a long day of working and driving and standing in lines at the plasma center. They were from allowing myself to feel sorry for myself. They were from my frustration at myself for allowing my expenses and debt to become a bit of a burden to bear right now.

As I said earlier – some of it is our own doing, some of it isn’t. My mind is busy telling myself I need to compare to everyone around me – I need to want all the things – I need to not wait or deny myself things I should have or could have or need to have right now.

While at the same time my mind is also telling me that I don’t deserve to have a nice car, I don’t deserve to take a nice vacation with my hubby, or vacations with my family… It’s telling me I already have too much and I need to get rid of half (if not more) of all the “crap” already in my house and in my position. 

This year my word of the year is Happy. What is happy? What defines happy? What is keeping me from happy? What does society define as happy? What do I personally inside define as happy? What if I already am AT peak happy, but think I’m not and I’m left endlessly trying to do and achieve more to reach a level of happy that might not even exist?

Yeah – an intentional deep dive into all things “happy” is on my agenda for myself this year, and I’m well into that journey. Which is a whole different blog post for another day…

But I am sure I am not the only one wrestling with want and need and desire and dreams and the complexity of wisely using and spending of our talents and resources. And so I share tonight of my own struggles and my own tears, not for pity or to be all woe is me, but to just extend a hand, a hug, a sliver of understanding and love in a really complex world of hard realities right now.

Adulting is hard. Really really hard. I don't like it right now. At all. Or at least one side of my brain is telling me I don't like it and it's not bringing me any happiness. But I'm starting to secretly wonder if it's not all (or surely as much as it's telling me) actually as "horribly unhappy" as my mind is feeding me to believe.

Carry on sweet beautiful warriors. One day at a time. One hour at a time. And no, nothing in life and love and death make sense right now, none of it, and you are not alone in your war of crazy and complicated reasoning within.

Previous blog post { Palm Sunday  } Here

Palm Sunday

Palm Sunday is hard. It’s always hard.

Nine years ago Faith was stillborn on Palm Sunday weekend. We would watch church from home, all of us sitting on our couch, numb, while watching the children waving the palm branches and singing Hosannah on the Highest, and then hearing the announcement about us… about Faith… No one knew I had even been pregnant.

Their first announcement of her life was of her loss… of her already being in the arms of Jesus.

As the years continued, Easter has always been hard. The season of Lent basically the season of her life as we knew her. Her first birth day was the following years Easter Sunday. The continued passing of the years and the waving of palm branches always a squeeze on my heart as I remember her, remember the horrible details of this entire journey.

And I am always pricked by the reality that there is one less child up there waving her palm branch and singing.

Yes, selfishly I want her here on earth with us. And yet… And yet, I am also always struck with the thought – and what if she had lived and wasn’t healthy? I am already so tired and so weary living THIS current life, however would we have continued through life caring for a sick child as well? I’m also always stuck with the thought that why would anyone wish a life on earth vs a life in heaven? The pain, the sickness, the corruption, the endless difficulties… Why would we not actually be rejoicing that she didn’t have to suffer through any of this – why are we not just beyond grateful when she opened her eyes she was already in the arms of Jesus, pain free, disease and sickness free.

Disease and sickness free – something she never once knew. She bore the burden and fate of Trisomy 18 from the very moment her first cell divided into her very existence. Sin in its most horrible state as it struck to the very marrow of the most innocent.

And yet, despite that reality – I will fully admit I still selfishly wish her in my own arms.

Today as I stood in church there were tears on my cheeks as I watched all the children and their palm branches. I didn’t want to be there. I wanted to still be hiding in the dark in my bed. And I couldn’t sing the words to all the songs praising God in all His greatness and goodness. He is. I know He is. But some days are just hard to put physical words to that when what is in my heart and soul is anything but praising His goodness.  I just could not open my mouth and sing of His goodness.

In my non-singing this morning, I was struck with a thought ~
I am not the only one who lost a child this week.

Two thousand years ago God also watched and witnessed the journey of losing His son, losing His child this very same week. He watched the pain and the suffering, and I’m sure His heart also broke wide open in the pain and sorrow we feel and experience here on earth upon our losses.

It was His plan all along. He gave His son to die. He created His son to die. To die for me… for you… for each and every one of us. And I really stopped and sat with that for a while. I’ve not thought of GOD’s grief much before. He was a father who watched His son suffer and die. He was a father who hurt and grieved just like we do. He knows the pain. He is also a loss papa.

I admit I think often of my funeral. Maybe not so much about my death, those details aren’t of concern or on my thought radar really. But the funeral itself, the happening, the event… that’s common conversation with me – both in my head and with my family and friends.

I have a notebook. It’s in my underwear drawer. It has all my funeral details in it. It’s a continual work in progress. I’m always adding little notes to it. The clothes, the coffin, the verses, the songs, the flowers, the colors, the earrings, the fingernails, the food, the drink, the coffee mugs, the little bits about my obit…

I’m not planning it in any morbid way. I’m not “planning” planning it. (I’m not suicidal or anything of that sort.) But I am ready. I am ready for Heaven. I want my celebration of life to be easy for those closest to me, and I want it to be a genuine and real celebration of my life.

As I sit here writing, I realize I have so much more I want to write, to share… There is so very much in my life that I have not documented, have not shared, have not blogged as I would have liked over the last years.

I am deep in my season of hard. Deeper yet in my season of busy. It’s been a rough go lately. Not that all things are negative and horrible… but we’ve been trudging through some pretty significant things that I’ve not taken the time to share about. My running, my health and wellness, Brian’s health and wellness, the teenager, the grandbabe, my cake business, my word of the year, trips and vacations we’ve taken, our current car saga, thoughts and stories of hurts and joys and triumphs and frustrations and celebrations...

Through all these things I’ve had to let my love for blogging and sharing currently just not be a part of this current season of busy. Someday perhaps it will be different. Someday perhaps I’ll have time to write my book, update my blog, share my life and loves and wisdom through my love of words. But that is not this season.

So I will pop on now and again out of the blue with an update or two for now, probably Faith specific. And today the world is a little harder, and a little heavier, so I will take the time to say a few words as we continue to walk forward into another Faith week this week. Another Easter season. Another Palm Sunday. Another birth day to be celebrated without her here with us in our house, at our table, in our lives.

Our sermon today naturally talked of palm branches. And that they signify the recognition of hope and future. That Jesus is coming. That whatever is holding us down right now, He will lift us up from… Lift me up from, lift you up from.... When the tears fall from our eyes, may we welcome Him into our hearts.

When I walked out of church, I found my heart still aching, my soul still dreading trudging through this week, the tang of my bitterness still lingering within me… but for the first time in nine years, I also walked out feeling slightly different about my thoughts on palm branches and Palm Sunday.

And... perhaps I need to add a little note in the notebook to incorporate a few palm branches here and there at my funeral.

Previous Blog Post { Back To Basics } HERE