Things have been quiet around here. Looking back over this summer, as we now creep into the end of August, I counted the number of blog posts over the last three months and I am pretty disappointed in myself. I know for many of you this “hobby” of mine may be just that – a word, marked with quotations and no real weight. But, for me, there is weight in this blog, my writing, and these words. I choose every day to keep this site live for anyone to open and read. It is a real vulnerability that some may question and wonder if putting myself out there is really even worth it, but let me clarify that right now, at this moment it is. I enjoy the conversations I have offline and behind-the-scenes with newbie mommies, want-to jump in bloggers, fellow working moms, etc. It has created a larger circle for me with incredible individuals all across the world who are just an open the computer and type a message moments away.
Nearly two years ago, give or take a month or two, I was baptized at the age of 28, alongside my 5-month-old daughter. It was a special day for me for many reasons. One, I was standing before our church alongside Nathan, and proclaiming that our daughter would be raised in a Christian home, honoring our Christian faith and proclaiming our love for Jesus among our Church family, and two, I declared publicly my love for Christ and made an outward statement that I believed in the power of God and that I accepted God into my heart and life. I was spiritually connected to God and my Church, more strongly than I had ever been in my life. I enjoyed Sunday mornings, I sought worship, learned from the sermon and walked away from service feeling revived and energetic.
When your heart feels heavy, where do you turn?
There is a lot on my mind these days. In fact, I feel like I am at a point where I literally cannot sit through another meeting, attend another training, open another lengthy email, hear another terrible sadness, watch another devastating event on the news – because quite frankly I cannot fit anymore in my brain. Nope. Nada. The capacity of what goes in is full and until I can start eliminating some of the madness currently left behind, I am a gazed over human.
My heart hurts. A month ago I lost a family member suddenly and tragically. It was unexpected. The death was torture to my family who now feels riddled with guilt and “could of, should of’s.” Not to mention words unsaid and situations left unmended.
There is sickness. People near and dear to me and / or my family are suffering. Fighting silent battles where worry and fear exists as we wait for the medical community to answer unanswered questions.
Soon my dear brother who serves this country will depart for his first overseas mission and while we are blessed with a small amount of time away from home, it is scary to think of him in a foreign land with little to no contact.
And then there is the way of the world. The evil and the heartbreak. The attack on Syria and the sad, horrible images of suffering and death. I cannot get the vision of the father holding his two nine-month old twins who died from the warfare out of my mind. I close my eyes tightly and scream in my mind and nothing will ever erase that image.
When I awoke the night before last, just after 11 pm, after accidentally falling asleep next to Lo, I carried her to her crib and I turned on the news. I read the headlines of our country bombing Syria and I turned to the bathroom to shower. As the water poured over my head, I cranked the heat up more and let the hot water trickle down my neck and back. I felt sore all over. Like a nagging sick feeling.
As I climbed into my bed, my safe place, I felt the tightness creep into my chest and anxiety fill my body. I did not sleep. No, I tossed and turned all night. Waking and thinking of one of many worrisome images in my mind. Stresses within our home, within the family, within work, within the world.
When I awoke, not much had changed and instead I felt like all day I carried around this feeling of uneasiness and sadness.
I know I am not the only one with this sick gut feeling. In fact, I know for a fact so many more people in my inner circle who are suffering a painful loss and I know this feeling I feel cannot compare with the world they now face. And, yet, I find myself aching for them too.
Faith is the only constant that I know I can 100% undoubtedly rely upon to pull me through. Last night as I tossed and turned, awaking each hour and sitting up to look across the room at our alarm clock, then as I laid there staring at the ceiling, I turned to prayer. Sometimes returning to the same words time and time again. I would eventually calm down, breathing would become more normal and soon I would drift to sleep. My anxiety became manageable. It was like the weight of the words and the heaviness of the matters transferred from my heart and into God hands.
As Christians that is what we are taught to do. Turn to God.
6 Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. 7 And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.
We know this yet we have such trouble casting our worries away and praying to God for the strength, the guidance and the grace to let go and let God take control. I know worrying won’t cure others, stop the piles of stress, fix what seems like in this moment as unfix able problems, and yet I continue to worry.
It takes hours and days and months of build up until finally I find myself at a point at 2:00 am, staring off into the darkness of my bedroom, overthinking and anxious. But, soon the light shines through and while I do not physically see the rays striking my face, I feel its warmth in the darkness and know that sometimes the greatest things in this scary, stressful world are the things we cannot see. And, in that moment I feel and know God’s grace.
I am a pretty impatient person.
It is my downfall and the one characteristic that I know I posses that needs a little love and attention. You know some emotional massaging. I did not become impatient overnight. It developed over the years as a result of my environment. Working in a “high-demand,” customer-focused position, sense of urgency is quite simply a protocol and necessary for success. With this “go, go, go” attitude and way of life, I have become someone who demands the same from my co-workers, peers and even family (oh, poor Nathan and Baby Lo!).
So, what does this mean? Well an impatient person translates into someone who is always mentally and physically rushing on to the next thing. Time shall not be wasted. When I am committed to a cause, in the moment and have a clear objective, a hiccup can frustrate the heck out of me.