Secrets to a Happier Life

Happiness comes easily for some. For others, we struggle to find joy. I don't mean we never smile or laugh--I just mean we usually find it easier to fret, find fault, furrow our brows.

At times in my life, happiness has come only when I made a concerted effort to find it. And I never found it in more; I only found it when I made a simple decision: be happy.

Of course, what starts as a simple decision has to be backed up by action. Changes were made, friends were relied upon, some habits were broken, other habits were taken up: sometimes it takes a lot of work, but the busier I am reaching goals, being with friends, and reconstructing areas of my life toward the positive--the less time I have to think about sadness, or lost opportunities, or failures, or frustrations with others.

Amanda Sekulow, founder of GLAM Ministries, encourages me all the time to tackle the areas of my life I need to and can change, and to accept what I cannot. Whenever I need a dose of inspiration to take on a task, I often text Amanda and ask for a lunch date. Hearing someone else say "you can do it" with the added reality of "though it might be difficult" is the perfect prescription.  

"Dover Beach" by Matthew Arnold is one of the best poems for me to read when I am feeling particularly morose. My saying that, and you reading it, may bring a surprise:

...the world, which seems
To lie before us like a land of dreams,
So various, so beautiful, so new,
Hath really neither joy, nor love, nor light,
Nor certitude, nor peace, nor help for pain;
And we are here as on a darkling plain
Swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight,
Where ignorant armies clash by night. (ll. 30-37)

Jessa, how on earth does something so depressing help you find happiness? Because. I don't want to be like that. 

I don't want to focus my life on thoughts that the world "hath really neither joy, nor love, nor light, nor certitude, nor peace, nor help for pain" (ll. 33-34). My one life here on this planet is my chance to touch others, to be a light. What a horrible way to live, caught up in my own dismay. What a waste of precious time.

Most of the time, the only thing standing in the way of my happiness is my attitude.

I'm not saying we cannot have a bad day or one of those cry-your-eyes-out afternoons, but overall, we would be a lot wiser to focus on our blesses and spend less time on our own personal "darkling plain," struggling and clashing instead of loving others--and loving ourselves. 

For a pictorial list of ideas on how to focus on happiness, go here. 

Arnold, Matthew. "Dover Beach." 100 Best-Loved Poems. Ed. Philip Smith. Mineola, NY: Dover, 1995. Print.

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a mentor's lessons, never forgotten

One May morning in 2001, I delivered the Salutatorian speech at my high school graduation. It was in honor of my middle through high school band director, Mr. Daryl Jack. I've known him eighteen years now, and beginning of 2013 brought the end of his life.

When I was contacted by another former field commander (I directed the marching band in 2000.) and requested to salute his casket at the end of his funeral, I did something out of the ordinary for me. Far, far out of the ordinary. But I felt a specific calling--to speak at his funeral. So I was bold and asked the funeral director for permission to do so.

And he said yes.

On January 5, 2013, I sat behind the stage as the funeral began, biting my lip and ignoring reality as I hoped my ability to fight back tears would sustain me once again. But I was feeling vulnerable.  I had almost lost it in the parking lot simply looking at the band room doors. So I prayed.

God. I need to do this. I need to have the strength and peace to deliver these words to honor this man. Please help me not to cry. When I am done, I can sob my face off, but just let me finish.

I kid you not--I immediately felt peace.

But then my throat got an itch.

Okay, God--me again. One more thing. Now please clear this nervous itch so that the words are strong and clear. That's really it this time. Thank you.

And He granted that request as well.

The minute I walked off stage, seeing my mom and older brother sitting with the current band, I began the waves of sobbing, which roared up again when the band (present members as well as graduates from many years before) began to play "Amazing Grace," the same variation with the same saxophone solo I had played nearly thirteen years before.

What do you say when you want to honor someone who touched your life for eighteen years? Who brought passion and wisdom to music, one of your greatest life loves? How can you come up with words that will do justice? You cannot. You don't. You quote his.

And I did.

Below is what I shared last week at the funeral of one of my greatest mentors. I apologize for the lengthy post, but I think reading the life lessons he instilled in me--and hundreds of other band students--will be worth your time. On a final introduction note, I gave Mr. Jack a typed and framed version of the main points from my speech in 2001. Today, I learned that my gift was still in his band office, found by his best friend as he gathered Mr. Jack's belongings to return to his children. I hope Mr. Jack knew that I still live his influence even twelve years after having him as my official teacher.

***   

When I first heard Mr. Jack was seriously ill, I had mixed emotions. I couldn’t concentrate on the sadness for a while, with Christmas break coming to an end and a house full of sick babies. Life can have a way of getting in the way.

But I did begin remembering. I had band with Mr. Jack from 6^th-12^th grade. That is 7 years with the same teacher: in class, through practice, on band trips. You cannot be that involved in someone’s life without hearts becoming attached—especially when one of those hearts was Mr. Jack’s.

When I graduated in 2001, I gave a speech—in this same room…to some of you—called “All I need to know in life I learned in band.” I found that speech, along with a lot of photos from an imfamous band trip to San Antonio that included seven hours in the airport because of a flight delay. I’d like to share an updated portion of that speech, with some of the lessons I shared that May nearly twelve years ago, and one new one that came to me this week. These are either direct quotes or incredibly close paraphrases from Mr. Jack himself.

1)   Whether you think you can, or think you can’t—you’re right.

·      In high school, I had this as a Post It on my mirror—with the words “think you can’t” crossed out. This morning I put it up on my fridge. Some of you may have seen the Instagram or Facebook post. Our confidence levels affect our performance levels.

·      Mr. Jack gave me confidence.

2)   Practice doesn’t make perfect; perfect practice makes perfect.

·      I know you’ve heard the saying, “practice makes perfect,” but it’s just not true. If you only give something partial attention when you are rehearsing, you aren’t going to perform at 100%.

·      Mentors give us shape, smooth out our roughed up edges, encourage greatness. Mr. Jack—who is still my mentor—taught me how to achieve greatness through diligent practice.

3)   Don’t give up just because you fail.

·      I used to audition for Middle Tennessee Clinic band, and I never made it.  I usually only tried out every other year, because it took that long to get over the defeat—but Mr. Jack kept telling me to go back and try again. Just because you’ve been given no reason to believe you can do something, doesn’t mean you shouldn’t take that chance. Mr. Jack believed in me, even when I failed. That faith made me believe in myself.

4)   Remember to breathe.

·      When I would get nervous before a solo or audition, Mr. Jack told me to use more air. So simple, right? Breathe. Life can become chaos—Mr. Jack showed me the importance of remaining calm while giving something my all.

5)   Early’s on time, on time is late, and late is unacceptable.

·      I know most of you remember this one. What an important quote! Mr. Jack gave me practical life lessons on punctuality that I still hear in my head every time I’m running late.

6)   And, finally, family is more than your siblings and parents.

·      I can remember the band being singled out over the school intercom by a former principal for moving chairs in the cafeteria. Mr. Jack jokingly told us to stop being so inclusive and kind to one another. When our tables were full, we didn’t turn away a fellow band member. We pulled up a chair.

We’re a band. We’ve laughed together, sweated together, worn the same band jackets and hats as the generations before us, traveled together, had meals together—and today, we grieve together.

Because we are a family who has lost our father.

It’s not wrong to cry today, and it’s not wrong to be glad to see each other—we are coming together again, though, in a way, we never fully left each other. We have been forever united by our mutual love of 8 to 5, heal to toe (which still helps me walk carefully when carrying a full beverage), common time, “Rocky Top,” and, most importantly, of Mr. Jack, who loved us as well and will forever be the man who gave us confidence, taught us about greatness, believed in us, told us to breathe, made us punctual, and was a teacher, friend, and band father we will never forget. 

 I had to stand on the director's podium to reach him. Here is Mr. Jack giving me my senior gift (Duck Tape--which held together my first vehicle and my first saxophone case) and the Patrick S. Gilmore award.

 following his direction as I play my senior solo

incredibly surprised and completely honored by the Patrick S. Gilmore award

Spring 2001

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(k)No(w) More of Me

I need to somehow figure out how to make myself far more productive—either that or suddenly require less rest. The latter will never happen. This body was made for sleeping.

So. Productivity is the answer.

Here’s the problem: I like to be involved in a lot, and I like to be good at whatever I do. In reality, the more I take on, the more my performance plummets. But the demands in my life aren’t going to walk away.

So. Productivity is the answer.

Here’s what all I want/have to do: work, clean, cook, read, exercise (which gets dropped off the list weekly), study the Bible, pray, write, watch television with my husband, play with my kids, spend more time with my students, hang out with friends, have a little quiet time to myself. That covers the majority of my weekly concerns, but doesn’t touch on the random projects that pop up.

I try constantly to give myself an out whenever I do poorly in one category. Christmas, moving, busyness in general: these are all great excuses for why things don’t get done to the best of my ability.

But—productivity is the answer.

There won’t suddenly be more of me. There won’t suddenly be more hours in the day. I have to use me and my hours to their maximum potential.

This means staying up a little later, but not too late. This means checking out Pinterest for new recipes and ideas, but not spending hours on it. This means going to bed with enough energy left to read. This means making better to do lists. This means working out my CrockPot more. This means saying in a minute and I cannot right now less often to my kids. This means doing a better job of asking my husband to help. This means putting my priorities in line. Productivity is the answer.

So goodbye, 2012. You were busy and blessed. Hello, 2013—you will be the same. But, I’m going to be ready for you: ready, willing, and able to be the BEST self possible. Here’s to purpose, priorities, and productivity. 

You can never be "alone" "with" someone.

I like quotes. Quotes from writers, artists, comedians, and even my friends. 

In high school, one of my friends pointed out that you can never be "alone" "with" someone. Is that deep? Absurd? I'm not sure, but her quote stuck with me for more than thirteen years. 

I've been thinking and writing today about being alone. My family isn't home today, and I've spent several hours alone. On my own terms. Such is a sweetness I rarely consume. 

So I slept late. Researched while I drank coffee. Watched Property Brothers while I ate plain pasta. Walked to work (on my day off) to see a student try on a Hemingway costume for a photo shoot this Friday. And sat (where I presently sit) in our library, trying to feed off of the creative ambiance as I wrote a chapter in a devotional book I'm working on and write this entry. 

Wouldn't you feel like writing if you sat where I sit?

Besides the quote from my high school pal, other things that come to mind when I think of the word "alone" are

• the ability to shower at an hour without the fear of waking a sleeping child,
• the freedom to watch an episode of The Nanny in bed while flipping through Pinterest on my phone,
• the chance to make plans with friends at any time without the mom-guilt of leaving family at home,
• the blessing of eating pasta for 2/3rds of my daily meals,
• and, of course, the giant hair, exploding pianos, and half-face veils in this music video.

Though I am sometimes (rarely...very very very rarely) alone, I am never lonely. God has “made known to me the paths of life” by filling me with joy in His presence (Psalm 16:11). Alone, but not abandoned, because I am always with Someone. 

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Domestictitus: A Pinterest-Born Illness

I don't know what's happened to me. I have sudden urges to be all things domestic. Yes, I think I have a rare case of Domestictitus. And I'm pretty sure no one in my household wants me to recover. It all started with a little sewing project.

Inspired by my friend's creations (look here at Ashley Balding's monsters), I decided to make 20 monsters as treats for the kids coming to my son's first birthday party. Ashley helped me with the sewing machine part, but I did the hand sewing of all the felt facial features. Why? 

I don't know. 

All I can think of to blame is this illness.

And it didn't stop there. 

Suddenly, out of absolutely nowhere, I started cooking. Yes, c-o-o-k-i-n-g!

A friend and I started meal planning for budgetary and personal challenge reasons. Now our families get new meals several times each week. Above is an adapted recipe from Pinterest. I call it Parmesan Chicken Parmesan. (I adapt all recipes, which is why I have trouble baking...you really need to follow those recipes perfectly. I guess my rebel-streak comes out even in the kitchen.) I mixed parmesan cheese, season salt, garlic powder, milk, and melted butter in a bowl and spread it all over raw chicken in a baking dish. Then I put some small chunks of butter hither and thither on top and baked for about 35 minutes on 350*. My husband actually said these words, "This is yummy." An unsolicited "yummy" from a man who is usually satisfied with a bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch. Anytime. Anywhere there is a spoon.

Success.

Now I am making Christmas presents for people and taking lessons to overcome my fear of the sewing machine. I freak out when my kitchen counter is dirty. I clean my toilets three times a week. I'm doing art projects with my three-year-old. 

If a doctor asked me, upon reflection, the only thing I can think to blame my Domestictitus on is my newfound interest in Pinterest. It's the only new thing in my life that has exposed me to party planning, sewing projects, recipes, cleaning tips, and art projects (though I mostly blame the cleaning obsession with us having our house on the market for nine months, living in fear of the random showing). And, yes, I spend a little too much time scrolling through the endless amounts of new pins, but as soon as I can get that under better control, I'd have to say that I think the results of this illness/obsession are mostly positive. 

How else would I have thought to create these Halloween treats? 

But I'm not just taking ideas from others: in general, I'm just in a domestically-creative phase. Pattern-free, I made my baby's Halloween costume.

And then there was this stroke of genius, which I have to co-credit to my husband. 

 So...however I caught it, I think I'll keep it. Our house is cleaner, our tastebuds happier, our budget more productive, our kids more paint-covered, and my trips to Hobby Lobby more frequent. (Thank you, 40% off one item coupons.) And I'm even enjoying it, so I hope these desires stay strong. When it comes to my new domestic desires, I want to push forward with my favorite line from Tennyson's "Ulyssess" in mind: "To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield!"

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http://www.lovingourjourney.com/

Lean Not on Your Own part 1

"Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding." Proverbs 3:5

But my understanding is strong. And secure. And logically valid.

This verse was the first in a seven day devotional series on decision making I started yesterday. Why yesterday in particular? Because we are house hunting! 

If you follow this blog, you may remember this post about my learning humility from our condo being on the market for so many months. Well, we got a contract...hoping that all things go through for a closing in late November. Which means that, if everything does go through, we'll need a new home by that time. Which means that we are looking, in quite a short amount of time, for the house we want to suit our family for the next fifty-plus years. That's a lot of pressure, you say? I'm glad you agree with me!
In times like this, it's easy to

lean on my own understanding.

Why aren't there any suitable houses on the market in the target neighborhood I've thought, for more than a year now, that we are supposed to live in?

Am I supposed to open my mind to a different neighborhood?

Are we supposed to wait again?

What is the lesson here?

I am a professor, you see, and I think that lessons lie in pretty much...well...everything. I don't think it's a bad way to live--looking for learning in life's ups and downs and straight-ways, but it can be a little exhausting. Asking questions. Waiting for answers, or...more likely in my case...making up your own answers based on your own understanding. 

Lean not on that, Jessa. Lean on Me.

So I'm doing a lot of praying and listening to others and considering options outside of my own understanding.

I don't like it.

And that's another life lesson.

 House hunting in style with a scarf=my favorite fashion accessory. YAY for fall!

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Today

“Today is only one day in all the days that will ever be. But what will happen in all the other days that ever come can depend on what you do today."

--Ernest Hemingway

Those who know me know I love Ernest Hemingway. From his intriguing life to his ingenuity in the craft of writing to his fondness of cats--Hemingway captivates me. In some ways, my research has brought me to believe that Hemingway had so many wives and so many lives (the war hero, the war corespondent  the hunter, the fisherman, the bull fighting enthusiast, the traveler...) because they were the fuel for his writing. 

"Write about what you know." That is the adage we pensmen hear: at the top of the list of author advice. 

What do I know? 

I know my faults. I see them glaring at me most days. I know my strengths, and I enjoy pushing myself towards being even better. 

I know love. Family. Honor. Duty. Sacrifice. Elation. Sorrow. All of those things I know more acutely than I did before because of motherhood. 

I know that this balancing act of mothering, wifing, professoring, Christianing, writing, hoping, editing, friending, cooking, and every other bit that is my life is not easy. 

And I know that “today is only one day in all the days that will ever be. But what will happen in all the other days that ever come can depend on what you do today."

I don't share this quote as a threat. (Why is she giving me so much pressure? I already stress about not meeting everyone's needs every day!) I share it as a reminder: don't forget today. In the midst of the chaos, find the beauty.

I am glad for the gift of today: another day to achieve goals, love others, reflect Glory, dream, eat, and sleep. And we don't have to accumulate spouses or excel at a multitude of hobbies to affect others with our gifts. Whatever stops you from finding fulfillment in today (worry? Corrie Ten Boom says, "Worry does not empty tomorrow of its sorrow. It empties today of its strength."), to to get past it because, as Dr. Seuss says, "Today you are you! That is truer than true! There is no one alive who is you-er than you!"

And your being you today is a beautiful thing.

Above: A friend's small business, Mansion and Marsh, gave me this adorable tee shirt. Below: What fun it is to pull out the leggings! And I got this dress from Ross, one of my favorite stores.