I could hear your angry screams coming from the bedroom. I dropped everything and headed towards the crying. As I entered your room, I stopped short when I saw you. There you were, with angry tears streaming down your face and arms outstretched toward me. You were wedged butt first in the chimney of your doll house. Chubby little baby butt cheeks peeked out of all of the windows. I had to leave your sister with you while I ran next door to get our neighbor. I fully intended to have him help me free you, but for what felt like five minutes, we both laughed uncontrollably. After somewhat controlling his laughter, my neighbor had to literally split the dollhouse in half, so as not to pinch your little butt cheeks, while I pulled you up and out. I think you were more upset and offended at me for laughing, than you were about being stuck or that we destroyed your dollhouse.
Anxiety you say? Meet IBS and Fibromyalgia, my two Frenemies! It seems years since we met but they are now permanent residents in my house. When I was in my mid 30’s, I met my first Frenemy, IBS. She met up with me during a difficult time in my life, and though I was not a fan of her attention getting behavior, I wanted to help her feel better. She had a tendency, though, to always make a big deal out of every crisis or situation and she would have these episodes where I would have to stay home with her for days. As the months turned into years, our relationship evolved and deepened, sometimes for the better, but most often not so fun. Long story short, I finally came to better terms with her for a time, and I made the mistake of telling her that if she wanted to feel better, she should make friends. The next thing I knew, she showed up with a new friend…Fibromyalgia!
Well, I am not one to give up on someone, so I not so willingly welcomed her in as well. It has been a lot of years since they joined me, but I have discovered a secret! By understanding, feeling compassion, giving mercy and showing myself some grace, the three of us exist together. IBS just needed someone to listen to her instead of lecturing her or trying to fix her all the time. Fibromyalgia just needed tender loving care and understanding of why she hurt so much. Anxieties will always be with us in a world that is messed up but still beautiful if we can look…My frenemies and I continue on as a team to tackle and overcome whatever anxiety or obstacle is in our path. I discovered that they have become a part of me and I them, my frenemies that is, and when the ugliness of things in the world push in on me, they are there beside me pushing back! Thanks Girls! I love you both! You are helping me become something better not worse.
Phoenix rising or Old Grey Goose flapping…we’re gonna make some sort of noise…lol. What did I get myself into, oh well, any kind of noise is better than falling silent into the ashes…
There he is again, she thought, as the car inched toward the intersection, awaiting their turn to move forward. Every time she came through this intersection, it seemed to be the same person, standing in the median with a sign, looking for money. It wasn’t a safe place to just stand, distracting drivers, and seemed such an inappropriate place to seek help.
She felt that, more than most, she knew what it was like to have everything taken away, and the struggle to pick up and overcome things. Hadn’t God brought her this far, by providing just what she needed to survive, not by just handing it to her, but helping her work hard to do it. As the car inched forward toward the intersection, she suddenly had an epiphany. It was as if God blew softly in her face, sort of like you do to a baby before they go under water. Its like a soft reset before they go under so that they don’t take water into their lungs.
She caught her breath, and when her eyes focused on the man again, she saw that God didn’t ask her to do anything but give out of a heart of love and obedience; no judging, no criticizing, no assumptions…just give if you have it. That’s it! Why did she feel that giving was connected to approval on her part. Was it her job to deem whether or not his circumstances were any more difficult or painful than hers. God did not say, “If your good with this, could you do me a favor”. He simply said, if you have it to give, and I ask you, is that enough.
She reached forward for her purse on the floor so fast that she nearly hit her forehead on the dash. Grabbing what little was there, it would have to do…she thrust the money in her husband’s face in a rush, and said in a hurry, Quick! Give this to that man! When he looked at her in confusion, she said hurriedly, “Long story short, God told me to shut up and give!” As they drove home, he just softly shook his head to himself, with a smile.
Perspective can be good, bad, right, wrong, on point, way off base, but always changing and rewriteable, for me at least. I know that I have the power to change one thing, my attitude…It makes everything look different.
** I don’t know about anyone else, but I often write letters to God. This was from one of my old journals, I believe. Back when I first started writing on WP, there were a number of posts in which I shared pieces from my prayer journals. This one is a bit rough around the edges, but still worth reading in its original form.**
Prayer Journal Entry November 2016:
“…I will trust you Father. I choose to trust You.
I know that You are working for my good. I know that You love me. I know that all You ask is that I follow you, that I let You lead me, and to be obedient to You. If you called me home today, would I be excited or would I be ashamed of my attitude.
I have been asking You to change me and that is what you are doing. You are constant and unchanging but I am not. I need to be soft and moldable so that You can shape me into more of Your image…loving, peaceful, patient, kind, gracious, full of mercy, compassionate, gentle, and giving. You don’t sit in Your Holy Mountain basking in Your own glory and wealth, rather, You are constantly, and forever pursuing Your children, delighting in them, helping them, teaching them, protecting them and blessing them.
You are a mighty God, a jealous God who craves His children’s love and obedience. You do not want us, Your children, to place anything above You. I do not wish to love my life so much that I seek to satisfy my own desires more than I seek to please You. When I am called home, I will not be bringing a house or car or a bank account full of money. What I will be bringing with me is my heart and my mind. My memories come with me, the choices in my life come with me, both the memory of consequences and the memory of blessings and obedience.
I want my heart to be filled with joy and laughter and love, not resentment and self-pity or jealousy. It’s funny how a suitcase or even a U-Haul has only so much physical space available, but a human heart, small as it is, has the capacity for an endless supply of love and emotion and passion. I choose to pack my heart for the journey home to you…”
Journey With Me! 