His grace is sufficient

Some of my earliest memories are those of anxiety.  I can't remember ever not feeling anxious.  When I was really young I couldn't identify the feeling accurately but I often felt uncomfortable, scared and overwhelmed by my surroundings.  This has been a skeleton that has continued to live in the locked closet of my heart.  I feel ashamed by its existence because it makes me look weak and childlike which is is exactly how I feel when the dreadful feeling grasps my heart.  Some of the scariest moments for me now are when I wake from a dead sleep having a panic attack.  I don't mean I wake up scared and then a panic attack ensues, I mean I wake up in the midst of a storm that is raging in the depths of being.  I wrote this recently when I was awakened by just such a terror….

For the first time in what seems like forever, I was awakened by the all too familiar feeling of anxiety. It spread it prickly fingers through my chest like a gush of freezing water. Then my heart started pounded, quickly approaching the speed of a cheetah's. The sense of dread lowered through my body, settling in my abdomen as though I'd swallowed a lead ball. As heat rapidly covered every surface of my body, I remembered to breathe trying to fan the flames threatening to engulf me. As I walked, praying, to the bathroom I felt my heart slowing to something more appropriate for a human instead of a scared, caged animal. I pressed my exposed back against the cold porcelain tub hoping its chilly surface would temper the flames on my skin. Slowly my body returned to itself leaving a tremor in the wake of the all consuming worry that had just ravished it. Now I lay quietly in my bed with a stomach feeling a bit like it's been on a roller coaster and legs resembling more of jell-o on toothpicks rather than muscles and bones. I hate these feelings. I loathe the part of me that lies sometimes hidden in my heart only to attack when I'm asleep and defenseless. Even though my body shifts into overdrive for days following the attack, I'm grateful I didn't relent to the flames. I fought against it, stamping my foot on the fire. The ashes are still smoldering, as they will for days, and they will release smoke that will cloud my mind. I will lie low for a few days allowing myself to breathe the less polluted air under the smoke. And then, like a Phoenix, I will rise once more from the ashes filled with hope that if faced again by the flames, I will not disappear…

I hesitated to post this because truthfully it is bearing my soul to a degree I usually reserve for only my closest confidants but I know I'm not the only person that fights this battle.  And I pray that this will encourage someone who has been in the same place.  God's grace is sufficient even in the midst of the storm.

--But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.”Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. 2 Corinthians 12:9 

--Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.  And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.  Phil 4:6-7 

"That" kid

Having 2 children potty trained and through the toddler years, my husband and I decided to add another 2 feet to our family.  In the beginning, besides the sleepless nights, it was such a sweet time for everyone.  There were "Oo's" and "Ah's" over the baby's tiny toes and little noises.  And then the baby came to life!  You know what I mean, that time of transition when the baby goes from a lump of crying, drooling, sweet sugar to a smiling, giggling, uncoordinated blob of entertainment and then, BOOM, welcome the teetering, tottering silliness of babyhood.  The entertainment level in our house exponentially multiplied when this happened to our youngest who is now 19 months of energy.  Being the baby by several years and having 2 adoring older siblings means he's not at all spoiled.  HAHAHAHAAAA!!!  His bouncy blonde hair, toothy grin and infectious laugh have charmed us all into doing pretty much whatever he wants.  However (isn't there always a however?) he has become a bit of a tyrant in some areas.  Since his siblings are older he isn't competing for toys much as they're past playing with Little People and puzzles with only 4 pieces.  This problem becomes apparent when he's playing with friends of his same age.  His BFF is a little girl 2 weeks older than himself but they seem to have worked out a system of playing together that begins with a bit of bullying (from my kid…eeeek!) and a bit of dramatic screaming (by the little girl, imagine that!) and then 30 minutes later a truce where they're sharing toys and juice cups.  However, during the beginning of their friendship there was some serious competition and my sweet little tyrant used his teeth a few times on his friend's fingers and although we've nipped that in the bud for the most part, he's still resorting to pinching…her face.  Not ok! But when we're hanging out together and it's just us mommies and our 2 babies it's much easier to put my aggressive baby into time out and raise my voice to indicate that my baby should let go of his friend's pretty face.  However (there it is, again!) when I'm in a setting with lots of kids and mommies I don't know, discipline is a bit more of a challenge.  That's exactly the situation I found myself in this weekend.  There I was volunteering in the church nursery.  My baby...my sweet, adorable, precious, funny, smiling little baby (who in his defense is getting over a bad cold) was in there with me.  At first he just struggled with sharing the toys but that was easy to correct.  The longer we were in there and the more tiny, tottering people that entered the room, the more annoyed my baby became.  Next thing I knew he was attacking other kids.   What in the world?  We don't pinch each other's faces at home…honest! So I tried time out.  Have you ever tried that in a crowded nursery? Not an easy task.  And then couple that with the glances of the other nursery workers who are also moms and I was seriously doubting my parenting abilities.  And then it happened, my baby attacked the visitor's kid.  So after another time out, a toddler apology and a look of shame on my face I did the unthinkable.  I kicked my kid out of the nursery!  Yep, my OWN kid was that kid.  You know the one that gets notes sent home to his parents for biting and hitting and eventually is asked to not return until the problem is corrected.  Mortified is possibly an understatement to how I was feeling after the 2nd incident of hard face pinching.  I had a duty to stay in the nursery with the other kids though.  So what did I do?  I passed the buck along to Daddy.  Yep, good 'ol Dad got stuck with the angry and sleepy toddler.  And what did I learn from this experience?  Make sure your cell phone is always charged in the event that you need to use a life line and text someone to come get your rowdy baby.  So to all the other parents out there wondering if they're alone in having the naughty kid for the day, listen to me closely…you're not alone!

--But seriously, I hope someone's else's kid holds that torch next week in nursery! 

Better late than never

So it begins…

Almost a year ago now, my husband bought me a new computer. I'd been eyeing MacBooks for a while when the purchase took place.  We had just moved to California from Georgia and everything/one I'd ever known so truthfully I think this was his "thanks for being willing to move 2500 miles away from home with me" gift.  I'd just endured a cross country adventure with 3 kids under the age of 9, my mother, aunt and of course my husband.  We'd looked at our "new" pink house that had been built almost a century prior and had recently been inhabited by 2 cats that apparently didn't have good aim.  I'd cried when I walked in, inhaled and saw the old house that according to my husband had character.  (I often times feel like people use that word to make themselves feel better about their surroundings.  I wasn't buying it.)  The yard was scant and butted up against a busy and noisy main road.  The impression of my new house, that had only been seen via the internet before we arrived, was going from bad to worse when I saw how tiny the kitchen really was.  Maybe it was the extended travel  time getting to me or the fact that I was in a completely new place but I felt myself beginning to unravel.  How in the world was I supposed to make this strange house my home?  I took some deep breaths of the calming lavender my mother and aunt picked from my front lawn and begin to think of this house as a challenge, an adventure, a future memory.  What do we do next?  Wash clothes, of course!  That's what every mother does on an almost daily basis.  And what did we not have? A washer and dryer.  Off to the store we headed where my mind was going 90 to nothing thinking of the house, the adventure, the challenge and I cried…again.  But then I realized I better pull up my bootstraps and look ahead.  By the time we made it to the store I had decided the house couldn't be as bad as I was making it out to be and that one day I'd be looking back on my time in it as a fond memory.  We ended up at a store that sold a hodgepodge of things, including washers, dryers and computers.  After making our big purchase of a washer and dryer that happened to take FOR-EVER, I talked my husband into gawking at the computers with me. Now he's not a fan of computers that don't run on Window so he'd hardly look at the MacBooks with me.  But I was insistent that it's what I wanted in the future and the next thing I knew the future was happening!  I was like a giddy kid on Christmas morning, staring in unbelief at the new toy I had surprisingly procured.  I may have even jumped up and down in delight right in the store.  (Bless my husband's heart!) And then my husband looked at me and said, "This comes with one condition.  You have to start blogging again."  When he'd met me I wrote, a lot.  I'd blogged, I wrote word emails, I wrote just for myself.  I wrote all the time to chronicle life.  But then I'd stopped. I had given up something that reminded me of the past.  And as much as I missed it, I couldn't bring myself to do it.  However, my husband encouraged me over and over to write but I just couldn't, or wouldn't.  So when he gave me the computer I reluctantly said "ok" to his request and now almost a year later I'm finally holding up my end of the bargain.  Thankfully my husband has a heart of gold and the patience of Job.  So, let the blogging begin!