Embracing the Happy...(The Parable of the Chocolate Bunny)

I’ve been pretty open with my struggles with fear and anxiety. I’m a born worrier…I think I came out of the womb wondering what was going on, afraid that I was going to miss something. I fought sleep (man, am I reaping that field with JD!!!), learned to read at an early age, jumped into every conversation (whether I was supposed to, or not), and regularly have those what-I-should-have-said conversations with myself. I am just not a person who comes by peace easily.

That’s not how we’re supposed to be.

Meekness, quietness—they don’t come naturally. It all boils down to that simple, four-letter word-from-hell: Fear.

And just when I think I’m making great strides in overcoming little pieces of it, something will come along and set me back. It affects every level of my life--home, work, motherhood—and it’s something that I have to keep in constant prayer over. “Lord, let me trust you.” It’s not just being afraid; it’s about not trusting God. When we trust Him, when we believe in His perfect love, we are simply not afraid.

I have to rest in Him.

I had a conversation lately that really sparked in my heart. A friend of mine had prayed for something for so long; now that her answer was looking right at her, she was afraid to embrace it.

 It was like a kid in a candy store…Every day, she passes by that candy store, looking at the big, chocolate rabbit. For years, she sees this rabbit. She sees other people buy that chocolate rabbit…she sees them eat the delicious candy, and she wishes she could have a bite, but no, not now…and every day, she walks by. Suddenly, one day, the candymaker comes out with a box for her. He’s seen her walk by his shop—he knows she’s there, even though she didn’t always know he could see her. He knows that little girl would love to have that big, handmade chocolate bunny. So one day, he lovingly wraps it up, puts it in the box, and he carries it out to her.

She can’t believe it. For her?!?  But…it’s never been for her! It’s always been for everyone else! She just can’t get over it—Really?!?!?  So, she takes the chocolate bunny…she’s ever-so-thankful…

But she’s afraid to eat it.

What if it melts?

What if the candymaker gets mad, or changes his mind? What if he takes it back?

She didn’t earn it. What if he sends her a bill?

She can’t even make herself take that chocolate bunny out of the box…

Yet every day, she still walks by the candy shop, and looks into the windows.

One day, the candymaker comes out, and asks her what she’s doing. “Didn’t I give you a beautiful, big chocolate bunny?” he says…

She tells him, “Yes, of course…”

“Well, did you try it?”

“No.”

“Did you open it?”

“No.”

“Why not? Aren’t you pleased with your gift?”

She finally tells him the truth: “I am afraid that you will change your mind…I am afraid that it wasn’t a gift, that you’ll take it back.  It just doesn’t seem real.”

It sounds kind of silly…especially when you compare it to chocolate. I mean, I am THE LAST person that earth that would ever just look at chocolate in a box (unless it’s my chocolate monkey from Crown Candy; I’m saving that for a special occasion). It just makes sense: You get a gift, you open it, you put it to good use! Otherwise, not only do you not get to reap the benefits of the gift; you also offend the giver!

How many times have I done that to the Lord? How many times has He given me a gift that I was too afraid to use?  Just like my friend that I spoke with earlier this week: How many times have I been afraid to Embrace The Happy?

We have these things that we pray for…not just gifts, like God is some kind of Bob Barker; we have deep heart’s desires that we pray for, that we earnestly seek His face for. Some of my friends are praying for husbands…true men of God that will love and respect them, that will raise a Godly family with them. For me, personally, I prayed for a child—crazy, drunk prayers like Hannah in I Samuel. These are the desperate, soul-wrenching prayers of a heart that’s on fire. And yet, when God decides that it’s time, we recoil in fear….

We are afraid to Embrace The Happy.

My first Mothers’ Day is approaching. I talked about it a little bit, earlier this week; but the more I think about it, the more afraid I am of the joy that I’m feeling. It sounds ridiculous! I am afraid to admit that yes, Cassidy Cooley is truly, madly, deeply HAPPY! Not just happy….I have joy in my heart!

I am crazy with joy!

If you could see inside my brain, all you’d see is Tigger bouncing around—that is how happy I am!!!!

Yet I find myself holding back, not telling anyone how I feel, because I am afraid that if I talk about it, that Smite button will find me, and I will be back in the Horrible Valley again…

I am afraid to Embrace The Happy…

But I have to.

So does my friend…They have an opportunity, to stop for a few minutes, and breathe. The candymaker has given them the Chocolate Bunny. Are they going to enjoy it, or are they going to leave it in the box, out of fear?

I want to enjoy it. I want to embrace every moment. I want to seize the opportunity, to enjoy it in full and living color, and to celebrate every breath, every step, and every day. I want to wrap myself in this moment, and leave a monument of joy to the Lord. I want to create a Selah in my life, and just press pause. I don’t want to let fear derail me, or to keep me from dancing on this mountaintop…Yes, I know that we can’t stay on the mountain forever….but when you’ve spent so many years in the valley, you appreciate the time that you get to bask on the peaks.

Fear will not win. It will not take this away from me…and the only one that can prevent that, is me.

To all of my friends who are in that valley, and who think they will never again see the light of day: You will. It takes time…it takes healing…and it takes Jesus. It takes support from friends and family that you can’t be afraid to ask for; it takes support from friends and family that they can’t be afraid to give. As unbelievable as it sounds, the valley is temporary. “Temporary “ means different things to different people. For some of us, it’s years. But I promise you—God is faithful. He may seem like He’s a thousand years away, but He’s right there through it all. You will emerge. And one day, you will find yourself able to Embrace The Happy once again…

I will celebrate this moment with my whole heart.

I will not hold anything back; I will not reserve myself because of fear.

I will not be afraid.

I will Embrace The Happy.

The Approach...

Things come to my attention in strange, random patterns—this is nothing new. Although I would never classify myself as ADD, I am most definitely easily distracted. It’s why I work best, alone. I love to be social, but it’s just not productive. When I’m alone, I can obsessively push myself to get the job done. I can actually be quite driven, when I have a lot to do. But, I digress…(wasn’t that my point?!?!)…

Anyways, this week has brought on the marketing onslaught known as Mothers’ Day.

The past 6 years of Mothers’ Days have brought me no end of heartache. The day is crippling, no matter how I look on the outside; I will never, ever forget that first Mothers’ Day after Hannah passed away. The gaping hole where my heart had been was publicly exposed, raw, bleeding, and so broken; the ladies in my church will never know how much their kindness meant to me, in the middle of my valley.

I wanted to die.

The following years were “better,” but still painful…Mothers’ Day reminds me just how truly scarred I am. As I walk down the Hallmark aisles, and I read the beautiful sentiments that I’d like to give to my own mother, I find myself taking a “selah” moment to simply breathe.

I thought my first Mothers’ Day with JD would make all of that heartache go away…but really, it doesn’t. It’s still there, and I know it always will be, to a certain extent (though it’s easy to say that it is so much better than it ever was…time and grace are truly a healing balm).  The onslaught of pink, flowery, sparkly Mothers’ Day cards still hurts.

It’s a gentle ache, more than anything…but I notice it. My loss is not forgotten…

It’s hard for me to pick out a Mothers’ Day card for my mom, even though no one deserves it more than she does. She’s been incredible, through this process; I feel like a lot of subconscious damage has been repaired through both my pregnancy and in watching her with my son. She really is the most amazing grandmother. She’s reminding me more of my Grandma Myers—and anyone who has heard me talk about Grandma Myers knows that there is no higher compliment in my book. Guess I should tell her that, sometime, eh?  

However, to pick out a card for my mom, means that I have to sift through a bunch of cards that were never for me. And even this year, when I’ve “earned” one, I still look at them with a sideways glance—is that for real? Like motherhood hasn’t officially set in, yet…

Did you know that I finally, after 7 years, put in the “#1 Mom” earrings my mother had bought me while I was pregnant with Hannah? I never felt like I could wear them, until now…Even though I gave birth, I don’t know that I have ever truly accepted my role as a mother. Hearing myself say it now, even when I look at the little man that came out of my body, still sounds strange.

Looking back, it seems like someone else’s life; looking forward, it seems the same: It’s hard to believe that it’s all real.  She was here…she was real. I still remember that she smelled like Cheerios…she was born with more hair than JD…she was tiny, so small…I could have held her for days—but that’s all I got to hold her for…She had my feet, and she looked like her daddy…

And she will always be my first…

He is here, and he is real…and he smiles; he laughs. He looks for me when I walk into the room; he buries his head in my neck and he puts his chubby hands into my hair.  He has my hands, my feet, my legs…he has my inquisitive nature, and my fear of missing out on something.  He looks like so much of his daddy, but so much of me, and he is the reason I have to catch my breath when I leave for work in the morning…

He is, as far as we know, our last…

Mothers’ Day is coming, and it is mine. This one belongs to me…this one, this makes up for the ones that I’ve lost. It makes up for the Mothers’ Days that I cried myself to sleep, that I dreaded with my very soul. This Mothers’ Day, I will make a concentrated effort to celebrate for what it is: This is a day in which the world stops to thank those women whose blood, sweat, and tears form the clay of their lives. I am one of those women…And maybe I was one before, I don’t know. I never saw myself that way.

I always saw myself as a “temporary mother,” like it was only a momentary assignment.

Not this time.

This time, I will see myself as a momma…as a woman who always wanted to be a momma, more than anything else…And though it seems strange to me, to put myself into that category, it seems strangely perfect….everything I ever hoped of, or dreamed of…everything I ever prayed for, even on the tough days.

This Mothers’ Day, I celebrate my mom more than ever; I feel like I understand her just a little bit more.

I’ve picked out a card for her—it’s the first one I looked at, and it seemed the most right. I hope she likes it.  I don’t know if I will get a card for this, my first “real” Mothers’ Day; is it wrong, if I blatantly say that I hope I do? I really do; I want to cherish this day like never before. If you could see the party that is going on inside of my head, you would understand. I really am celebrating…even with the slight breeze of melancholy that echoes through…

(The most precious thing about this picture, is how it was taken. It's a random snapshot of JD, laying on my belly, looking up at me...He's about 10 weeks old in this picture, and I love his expression...)