sheri carlstrom...slices of an ordinary life

Perspectives on Happiness

It was an ordinary day last month when my brother-in-law, Greg, decided it was time to go to the doctor. He hadn't been feeling well for awhile and it was time to find out why. Really...just an ordinary day.

After a few appointments and several tests, the doctor said "cancer" and ordinary slipped right out of the day. I don't know what its like to hear that word, but Greg said what I have heard so many others say, "I know the doctor was still talking, but I didn't hear anything after the word cancer."

Processing time. Education time; learning about things you don't really want to learn about. Grieving. Fear. Courage. I don't really know about these things; selfishly, I hope I never do.

Today was to have been an ordinary day; Christmas break, no school, maybe some sledding and hot chocolate. But seventeen of us (yep, you read that right - seventeen!) sitting in a surgery waiting room is anything but ordinary - even to those around us sitting here waiting for their loved ones, our group seems anything but normal. We're OK with that.

This experience makes me soak in these days that make up my life that seem so ordinary. I read an article this morning in Real Simple as I sat on this uncomfortable chair in this waiting room that is way too warm. In January's issue, Meg Wolitzer wrote "the psychology of happiness" and in it she said, "...being happy is about having the space to appreciate the ordinary things that do in fact make me "happy," though at first glance they might not be seen that way. An absence of chaos; an absence of phone calls with disturbing news; an absence of business emails that upend your day and demand attention right then and there; no acutely ill parents; no fragile children calling shakily from college. Being able to sit down with a glass of wine and some really good, tiny little olives with your husband; having a nice meal with your kids that's not rushed or fraught. These seem like small things, perhaps like pedestrian things, but I protect them fiercely, knowing that on the other side of an imaginary wall waits the possibility that all of them will soon be gone..."

Interestingly, over the last few weeks, I was thinking about the possibility of these ordinary days of our family soon being gone. With a daughter in college and the others seemingly following quickly, I was suddenly aware this Christmas that it could be very soon when there is a significant other, and then a spouse, and then quite possibly an absence because new traditions are begun in the new families that will spout from this family tree of ours.

I do remember days when happiness meant something external, possibly something shiny, something special, certainly something out of the ordinary. I am grateful for perspective that has evolved with twenty years of marriage, four kids, experiences like this and more. Truly, happiness is found in the very ordinary days of this life of mine, something that most days I hold in the palm of my hands. Ordinary will look different someday, but I believe if I look, I will find happiness there as well.

Your new ordinary is coming Greg and Tracey, and happiness will be found within...watch for it.

An Ordinary Day in October 2007

Something happened at the Y this week that caused me to go back three years and post this.

A Holy Moment

This morning, while worshiping in church, there was a holy moment that captured me. Today was summer camp kick-off at our church and the youth worship band was leading worship. I love when this happens, youth who are leaders anywhere in the church excite me.

My fifteen year old son leads kindergarten and first graders every other month in Sunday school; I love that little kids get to see a teen boy leading. It is quite possible his presence will inspire one of these little ones someday. The other thing that excites me is that as our kids become active members, the potential for their faith, community and connection grows. Hopefully this also creates more positive experiences so that as they go off to college or move away, they know the one place to get involved right away is a local church.

But, back to what happened this morning. My two daughters were on vocals and as we worshiped God through the song "How Great is Our God", I opened my eyes at a  moment when both the girls had their hands in the air and eyes closed, singing straight into the heart of God.

It was a holy moment. As a parent I could feel myself step back. This was a place that I pray about. This is the place I can let go. This is the place where I know its all OK.

There are moments and places where I want to walk as closely with my kids as I can, places where sometimes I am afraid, times when I don't think I can let go. But when I saw my girls move into the surrender of worship, I backed up, I teared up, I let go. As a parent, my deepest longing for my children is that they will develop a strong and enduring relationship with God. If they walk within the boundaries, love, mercy and forgiveness of God, I know the letting go (which begins to happen as they grow closer and closer to leaving this nest of ours) will be easier.

When they were very little, they raised their little hands to me and I picked them up with love. Watching them raise their hands to their heavenly Father, well...I am assured He will pick them up with a greater love than even I.

The $1 Difference

It is the season for the Red Kettles, sponsored by the Salvation Army. They are everywhere it seems, and I believe at some point or another, we've all done this...walked in the other door to avoid the kettle.

Sometimes we don't want to give not one more dollar. Sometimes we don't have even have one dollar to give.

Last year our pastor encouraged something that changed my spirit and my direction for this year. He suggested getting a bunch of $1 bills and dropping one in every time we pass a Red Kettle. Giving perspective, he said even if you cross 50 kettles in the season, its $50. So a few weeks ago, I went to the bank and got one dollar bills. (I keep them in a specific place in my purse so I don't spend them at Starbucks.)

The difference in me has been noticeable; I am excited to hear the bells ringing now. In fact, last week we were in New York City and instead of feeling grateful for the crowd that gave me the excuse to move away from the Kettle, I had fun navigating the crush of people to get to the many Kettles.

If you can, I challenge each of you who read this to get your one dollar bills and post back your thoughts and responses!

'Tis the season to Spend Less. Give More. Worship Fully. Love All. (That's our current message series at my church. It seemed to fit into this post. If you want to listen to the first message, given 11.29.09, click here.)

Old Testament Journey - Nehemiah

I love the wisdom and richness of the Old Testament, and I really like the book of Nehemiah. I was most recently struck by Chapter 9 in this book about the community of Jews who returned to their homeland from Babylon. Nehemiah went to Judah almost 100 years after the first exiles returned.

Let me start at Chapter 8. On the first day of the seventh month, all of the Israelites had assembled as one and Ezra read from the Book of the Law from daybreak until noon, (and we sometimes get itchy if the Sunday service goes past one hour) and as they read they gave the meaning so that the people could understand what was being read. (nice, or not...sometimes we like ignorance) Then everyone bowed down and worshiped the LORD.

The people were then instructed to not mourn or weep but to go enjoy food and drink for the "joy of the LORD is your strength", he said this because the people were weeping as the listened to the words of the law. (maybe out of shame, or from an awareness of the grief they must have caused the Lord, or an awareness of the great love and compassion the Lord has for them? I don't know, maybe if I spent that kind of time listening to the Word, I might find out.)

Moving on to Chapter 9...

Twenty-one days later, everyone is back together. They spent a quarter of their day listening to the Book of the Law being read, a quarter spent in confession and worship. (can you imagine? reminder, lets not feel restless if the Sunday service runs late) Their memories are refreshed about all the LORD has done for their people, from creation to deliverance from Egypt to the manna he sent and more...and then it goes on to say...they failed to remember the miracles you performed among them. Then here is the thing that really caught me, They became stiff-necked. They built a golden calf and sinned. (ouch)

But God sustained them. They were given kingdoms and nations and more. (wow)

Again they were disobedient. So they suffered. And then they cried out, and from heaven God heard and in his great compassion delivered them. But as soon as they were at rest, they did it again - forgot, turned away, got in trouble, and so they cried out to God again...who heard them from heaven and delivered them time after time. For many years God was patient with them. By His spirit he admonished them through his prophets, but they didn't pay attention.

Words that are thousands of years old, and yet so relevant to my life today.

I get close to God, He may have even recently delivered me through a terrible time, so I'm worshiping, confessing and listening. Then one morning, its cold and dark outside and I decide sleeping sounds better than getting up and meeting with God. Then its been weeks (and weeks) and I'm still sleeping in. And then its my schedule and the list of things to do that can't seem to wait, so my time with God gets pushed away...again. Then I'm in a place where I need him, so I call out, and He seems to hear me from heaven and in His great compassion, He meets my needs. And I get comfortable....and, well you followed the story line from chapter 9.

The point is:

• Even with the examples of the Israelites written out in black and white, I am still like them.
• I have golden calves, they are just shaped in the images of computers, lists, sleep and more....
• It would be good to spend a day reviewing all the God has done for me.
• I hope I never become too stiff-necked to remember all that God has done for me.
• It would probably do me good to spend more time reading the Word, confessing my sin and worshiping the LORD.
• I am grateful beyond words that God is compassionate and does hear my cries from heaven and rescues me from myself time and time again. (not something I am proud of, but grateful for certainly)

Share with Others

And do not forget to do good and to share with others,
for with such sacrifices God is pleased. 
Hebrews 13:16

This verse is inspiring to me. It doesn't say what we should share, just that we should share.

This week my youngest daughter Erin had ten inches cut off of her hair so she could share her hair with others through Locks of Love. For some reason she is very aware that there are kids who have no hair due to cancer treatments. So when she was very little she decided she would share her hair. She grew it for a few years and at the end of 3rd grade, she had twelve inches cut off. The very next day she announced she would grow it again, and share it once more.

It wasn't always convenient. Those last few inches were hard, when her sister and some friends were getting cute new haircuts this summer, she did not. She was getting tired of the effort it took to keep it maintained. But she stayed true to her desire to share. I believe God, as well as the child who receives her hair, is and will be pleased with her sacrifice. 

Erin inspires me to be creative in how and what I share. Sometimes I share our dinner with the widower across the street, last weekend we shared our home with some children from Uganda. I really don't think it matters what we share, we just need to remember to share. How about you, how or what will you share this week? If you have shared in a creative way...inspire with us what you did!

Hope and a Future

My heart has been stirred by some children I have yet to meet, yet the weight of their suffering is within me. We will welcome some of them into our home in just few days, for just a few days; they are children from the Hope for Africa Children's Choir. I work on communications for my church and as I prepared media for this upcoming concert, I was both heartbroken and hopeful.

Uganda has seen civil war for over 20 years and as a result there are all these children who have no parents. Some of these children have lived their whole lives in camps for those driven or fleeing from their homes. Some of these children's parents have been brutally murdered; some have witnessed this. Many have lost parents to disease. All of them depend on someone other than a parent to provide for them.

As a foster parent, I am aware of the many children in our own country that need a place to live to be safe. I am sometimes left breathless by the abuse and neglect some parents inflict. I can guarantee you this, you will never be left to provide for my children because I have abused or neglected them. But...what if I lived in a country where war was the norm, where disease was rampant, where my husband was killed, and I was about to die of AIDS. Then...well...I guess I could not issue that guarantee. What then? 

Well, I believe the children need to be absorbed into us. We have to go to them. We have to step up. If I am the mother in the above situation, I want to know that I can trust someone will wrap their arms around my child, take her in, provide for him, give them a hope and a future. (Jeremiah 29:11) When it appears all has failed, and it is dark, I have to believe there is a plan. I suspect we are that plan.

Join me Sunday at 4:00 at Sonrise Church to experience
the Hope for Africa's Children's Choir.

If nothing else, come and praise God for all He has done and is doing for the twenty-two children, ages seven to eleven, who will grace our stage this Sunday.