LORD, you have blessed me. I know it and I am acknowledging it here, and now. You have taken me to some places that I would not have trusted You to go, had you given me the choice.
But I went.
And I found that not only did you refill my empty heart, with a different kind of love, you healed and continue to heal it, piece by piece. Its not easy to be patient God, and I know you know I struggle with that in particular.
I know you have things in store for me that I couldn’t possibly imagine, desires of my heart and things that I need… I just need to be more patient – and you’re teaching me!
I’m understanding a tiny bit more, the concept of time and the art of waiting on you, God. I am thankful for my children and their smiles, despite the pain it can sometimes cause… because I know it brings me closer to you. I’m thankful for the ability to be around those that love me most, though it hurt me to need them, because I know it helps me recognize I need you.
I’m thankful that my broken heart is healing, and that love has been almost overwhelmingly poured into it, covering the canyon created when Jason left me. I know he’s with You, and that give me some peace.
Even more so, I know You understood my pain, and that’s why you’ve blessed me with so much love. Understanding how much you love me, even though its only the beginning… ( and knowing that is AMAZING!) is a journey I dont think I really knew the magnitude of until recently.
Maybe that was what this was for me, an awakening. Whatever your will, whatever the plan, I thank you in advance, and open my heart to you.
[NEVER AGAIN will I confess or focus on doubt and a lack of faith, because the Word says: “God has dealt to each one [every person] a measure of faith.” (Romans 12:3) ]
Recently “lack of faith” or fear of the lack rather, has been my “excuse” for not being very focused on my church life.
I havent been reading.
I havent been studying.
I have only been living.
Existing. Taking up space and counting my blessings. I need to go to church.
I know.
I need to get these boys to church.
I know.
I’ve incorporated a “Talk about God and why we are thankful” day on Sundays to try to make up for the lack of church with the boys. I know its not good enough. I know.
Since I know these things, I must have some faith. I must have it embedded in my soul someplace, written on my hard-drive that God and church are right. Not just good but RIGHT. So I can no longer use fear of doubt, or lack of faith as an excuse not to go or listen, or at least study.
I made a corner in my house a few weeks ago, as a place for remembering. It has our family pics up from 2008, a few months before Jason passed. This weekend I found my little boy there, huddled in the corner, doing what looked like praying.
He’s 7, and unfortunately we dont get to church as much as we should… like ever. I pray with them, talk to them about God, but.. I think he needs more. Obviously theres always room for more God in someone’s life, especially for a little boy who’s lost his father. I knew that already. I just didnt act as quickly as I pictured I would when I reviewed my “game plan” as a new single mom.
For one thing, it aches to be in church without Jason. It literally creates a tightness in my throat and chest to be in places we used to be together, as a family. Family unit activities hurt. A lot. I feel wedged between two enormous feelings of hurt and disbelief, and a sense of loss for my children, being robbed of something so vital as a good father.
I digress.. As much as it broke my heart to see him there, praying so solemly, like a little old wise man, as much as I wanted to ask him what he was doing… I walked away. I said nothing.
I hate ants. Its not that they are the most terrifying species, or the creepy crawl-iest. Spider-crickets, black widows and flying roaches are by far more heinous, especially the latter. But ants, in the house, for some reason really gets under my skin. It feels like a personal failure; to see one merrily marching along the bathroom floor. Some sort of shortcoming in my ability to be a “good” mother despite my daily efforts toward an occasionally spotless home. Somehow worse than actual dirt, the ants imply an invisible dirtiness. As if only unimaginable amounts of sticky food-borne filth crammed into every crevice of every corner could result in the three to five busy ants I see and kill every single day for a month, as soon as the spring comes, every single year. And of course seeing one, in my mind, means there are thousands. A covert infestation teeming inside the walls, waiting to emerge from the cracks and flood your children’s ears in the night time. I’d imagine a plea bargain with the head ant queen to spare my babies. Please don’t flood their brains and make them suffer, they are innocent. I promise I wont kill anymore of yours from now on. Just don’t go after my kids… and then I’d sit up at night, spooked. Thinking of the terribly creepy things that probably weren’t happening to my kids right under my nose.
Sooo Yeah. All that from ants. My point in telling this story is : This isn’t “crazy”. Its wildly imaginative, and improbable. But not crazy. I’m willing to bet there are millions of moms across the world who have had thoughts like these. Moms have so much stress to deal with, are usually fatigued, overworked, and by nature, tend to be more passionate after having children. It stands to reason that at some point, deprivation of sleep, water, proper diet and exercise will begin to affect her mind a little. And that’s not “crazy”.. Why is it deemed normal for us to be sleep deprived and malnourished, yet abnormal to suffer the consequences? Why do we allow the world to tell us we need medication to fix what is obviously not a disease? It is not a disease of the mind to be tired or iron deficient. It is not a mental disorder to need a break. What IS a disease of the mind is to believe as a mother one must be willing to provide for everyone else except oneself. That’s crazy.
I say this to say, at some point, I started noticing the “crazy” for what it was. I stepped away from the GOOGLE, and started taking the REAL steps needed for taking inventory of myself.
I went to the doctor for a physical. I addressed all the ailments that gave me constant self consciousness and anxiety. Restless legs, fear of blood clots, anemia, joint pain, self diagnosed diseases from google, sinus migraines, sleep deprivation, excessive worry (i.e. the spring ants) etc. She checked me out, listened carefully, and said something I didn’t expect.
“You had a baby.”
I blinked. I waited. “I know… “ I said weakly, “but… —
“No.” she said again. “You birthed 7 pounds of flesh, that from your own organs and fluid that is only supposed to support YOU, you created, shared, sustained, and brought to life, a thinking breathing, functioning, being – whose functions and complex systems often took precedence over YOUR OWN. And now that she is outside your body you are still nourishing her with your fluids, energy, and vitamins. Not only is this noble, incredible, selfless and amazing… it’s also exhausting to your system’s resources, hormones and emergency reserves. Not to mention impossible to do without compensating with some countermeasures…”
In other words – QUIT beating yourself up.
No you’re not crazy because you had a mental conversation with the queen ants. You’re tired and feeling guilty about not eradicating the ants and saving your children’s brains from invasion, and simultaneously guilty about mercilessly snuffing out life after ant life.. when all you REALLY want is to be a good mom AND get a good nights sleep. That’s not crazy. Whats crazy is that you can really make yourself sick worrying (And googling) instead of treating the symptoms.
Stop popping pills with every pain you get. Stop drinking weight loss shakes and starving yourself. Start thinking of how you can incorporate a healthy BREAK in your routine every now and then. And make a point to take care of YOU. Drink more water. DO the damn night time relaxation yoga routine once in a while. Yes, in the middle of the living room. SO what. Wear the hot pink tights too. We’ll be twinsieeeees. 🙂