I ask this in a teasing voice, giving her a hard time.
Her issues are serious, deep, and could be overwhelming if you let them. My jesting is always to bring just a bit of levity - to help us both.
I kiss all the kids good night. It's the only thing I seem to do consistently in OCD fashion. I suppose I think this ritual will ward off all those unwelcome things the night can bring.
Tonight, little Miss has a fever. Oh how I loathe young ones with fevers. I hate going to bed knowing they are sick ; not knowing how they will fare during the night. I never sleep well when this is the case.
I know control is just a facade - an illusion to make ourselves feel better.
The harder I work for it the more fleeting it becomes.
I always feel like it should be more amazing when things go well, when we aren't sick, or when we aren't injured, than when the opposite is true. When a worrying mom thinks of all that can go wrong, or a sick friend has to contemplate possibilities, you suddenly realize how frail and powerless we are.
I was amused again today that my kids think I am so strong, so able. For the second day in a row, I get an exploding head ache when I start working out. I went for a jog this afternoon, and was splitting up the running with some strength training exercises. Levi and Noah were hanging out with me, and I told them how bad my head hurt.
"Call Papa Tim if I pass out," I said as I went off for another part of the run.
"You'll never pass out, mom. You're too tough!"
The comic relief of your children's outlandish view of your abilities goes a long way to soothe the reality of a mama's aging body.
So this hologram of control I comfort myself with, it's showing me again how it's solid as mist.
I'm preparing myself for a sleepless night, and realize my old muscles will be so sore tomorrow.
And while it may not be glamorous, it's real, and it's my life. All chaos and out of control, but stitched with Divine thread.
So you don't know me, but I stumbled upon your blog today. I've had somewhat of an anxious morning, feeling a bit out of control myself. I wonder when I will get used to the state of perpetual transition we call life... which is how God led me to you. :) So anyways, from a sister/friend, I wanted to thank you for blessing me today. I needed the reminder that "...while it may not be glamorous, it's real, and it's my life. All chaos and out of control, but stitched with Divine thread." Stitched with Divine thread. I so often fear and have anxiety over what seems out of my control... but I musn't! For the Divine Weaver is stitching something beautiful... Was reminded of this poem, you've probably read before. But I wanted to share it again:
ReplyDeleteMy life is but a weaving
Between my Lord and me;
I cannot choose the colors
He worketh steadily.
Ofttimes He weaveth sorrow
And I, in foolish pride,
Forget He seeth the upper
And I the underside.
Not till the loom is silent
And the shuttles cease to fly,
Shall God unroll the canvas
And explain the reason why.
The dark threads are as needful
In the Weaver’s skillful hand,
As the threads of gold and silver
In the pattern He has planned.
~ Author unknown
Thank you for blessing me this morning...