I began today on my knees, talking out loud barely stopping for breath, let alone letting God get a word in edgewise. I prayed that I would love well today. Love better than I usually do. And most especially my husband and children. That it would come to me like second nature, instead of croaking and groaning from my insides.
Isn't is funny how when we pray for the opportunities to show we will act and not just talk a good talk, He gives it to us? I prayed for this and oh, did I get the opportunity.
The news that my friend Ch lost her baby at over six months along this morning, the sob that burst from my own lips as the rawness of Friday's Connecticut tragedy still burned. I didn't stop for a hairbrush, for makeup, I don't think I was wearing socks, I dropped things and ran to her arms. There's her whole family, inlaws, a moment of family, and I didn't let myself feel awkward, just that love I prayed for. We wept together and...there are no words. When I remember my life, I want to remember I ran to her today. I thought that was to be it, at least for today.
I was wrong. And this one I can't talk about yet because oh how my prayer was answered and in the past as I got this same news, I have not always handled it with the love I prayed today, this very day to have. If I had not felt prompted, humbled today to pray for this, I don't know what would have happened in my reaction, especially in this second moment.
For the second time, I had my arms around a loved one as they wept. This one bears down on my shoulders, this one I can't weep about yet, I must remain strong.
Oh, and the poem's almost done. I will make my deadline. And I will keep praying to love well.
Monday, December 17, 2012
Sunday, December 16, 2012
Day 271
What if I can't write this poem? I have 5 days left. It looms over me, taunting my empty brain. I can't remember the last time words just wouldn't come. I think I have completely psyched myself out of this. My friend prayed about it and felt strongly that I should write this for her family. And that's a lot to live up to. I have all the pieces in place, and the words still aren't coming.
How long have I had this assignment? I thought I had a gift of words. I wasn't worried. I hear these lovely passages and wish it was me who wrote them. But I wrote enough and had enough experience at feeling like I nailed something or wrote something of value that it all equaled out in the end.
I know this can be simple, but still the words won't come. I listen to music. I don't listen to music. I walk around with notebooks, keep them by my bed, listen in the shower, picture this family in my head, picture myself writing this masterpiece, but nothing...
I even sat by my friend K today in Gospel Doctrine and read the passage in Ether where they lament their weakness in writing and wish the people reading could hear their speaking because it is so much stronger. I have always felt that way about my writing and its like its a dry well in there. K told me she wasn't worried about it at all and knew I would be able to do this. How can she believe this and I can't? Where is my belief/faith in this? I've been praying-I even had T give me a blessing. Nothing was mentioned about this poem specifically, just that the Lord loves me and is mindful of my prayers.
I know I need faith. I know it. If this was just for myself...but I adore this family and I don't want to let my friend down. I don't want to write drivel in describing this family. I don't want her to feel like her prayer wasn't answered or that I was the wrong person to write this for her. I can write poetry. How many poems have I written in my life? How many? I have been writing since I was 7 years old. I'm a writer, aren't I? I mean, I've written about house plants and snails and feuding couples and babies and anything made to order for whoever needs something. I can pull them out of my hat...at least I thought I could.
I think I have too much pride. I need humility. I may be able to consider myself a writer, but that is only because that is how I choose to express myself where I aren't just trying to turn my weakness into strength. That's reserved for speaking. Crap. I know I can do this. I know...
How long have I had this assignment? I thought I had a gift of words. I wasn't worried. I hear these lovely passages and wish it was me who wrote them. But I wrote enough and had enough experience at feeling like I nailed something or wrote something of value that it all equaled out in the end.
I know this can be simple, but still the words won't come. I listen to music. I don't listen to music. I walk around with notebooks, keep them by my bed, listen in the shower, picture this family in my head, picture myself writing this masterpiece, but nothing...
I even sat by my friend K today in Gospel Doctrine and read the passage in Ether where they lament their weakness in writing and wish the people reading could hear their speaking because it is so much stronger. I have always felt that way about my writing and its like its a dry well in there. K told me she wasn't worried about it at all and knew I would be able to do this. How can she believe this and I can't? Where is my belief/faith in this? I've been praying-I even had T give me a blessing. Nothing was mentioned about this poem specifically, just that the Lord loves me and is mindful of my prayers.
I know I need faith. I know it. If this was just for myself...but I adore this family and I don't want to let my friend down. I don't want to write drivel in describing this family. I don't want her to feel like her prayer wasn't answered or that I was the wrong person to write this for her. I can write poetry. How many poems have I written in my life? How many? I have been writing since I was 7 years old. I'm a writer, aren't I? I mean, I've written about house plants and snails and feuding couples and babies and anything made to order for whoever needs something. I can pull them out of my hat...at least I thought I could.
I think I have too much pride. I need humility. I may be able to consider myself a writer, but that is only because that is how I choose to express myself where I aren't just trying to turn my weakness into strength. That's reserved for speaking. Crap. I know I can do this. I know...
Wednesday, December 12, 2012
Day 270
Perhaps this is turning into some sort of a gratitude journal. Certainly my writing is documented in some sort of a minor role. I met some friends in little C's ballet class. You know the waiting room we all sit in and make small talk, my least favorite thing. And dance moms? Forget about it. Last year I would move mountains to sit in my car or run errands, anything to avoid at all costs.
This year, I parked my butt in the soft chairs and I adapted. And you know what? I began to look forward to dance. And I was going beyond small talk and becoming friends with these other moms. I have missed these dance friends these past few weeks as I haven't been taking little C to dance. I'm a little jealous my mom is with them instead. Yesterday, they gave my mom a giant present to give to me. The card was clever. It said, "Stay warm. Stay rested. Stay clean. Stay cute." They bought me a jacket, two memory foam pillows (admittedly nicer than the ikea cheapos I use) soap, and a bag of cuties. Seriously, a jacket! I don't even wear jackets, but I will wear this one. They bought me a jacket... And those pillows. Here I am making felt ornaments to pass out for Christmas!!!! I'm a bit overwhelmed.
Dance friends. Who knew? I'm glad they love me and vice versa cuz if little C has her way she's going to dance all through high school with these "sisters" as she calls her little friends in her class.
And I can sit in the waiting room with some pretty cool moms.
This year, I parked my butt in the soft chairs and I adapted. And you know what? I began to look forward to dance. And I was going beyond small talk and becoming friends with these other moms. I have missed these dance friends these past few weeks as I haven't been taking little C to dance. I'm a little jealous my mom is with them instead. Yesterday, they gave my mom a giant present to give to me. The card was clever. It said, "Stay warm. Stay rested. Stay clean. Stay cute." They bought me a jacket, two memory foam pillows (admittedly nicer than the ikea cheapos I use) soap, and a bag of cuties. Seriously, a jacket! I don't even wear jackets, but I will wear this one. They bought me a jacket... And those pillows. Here I am making felt ornaments to pass out for Christmas!!!! I'm a bit overwhelmed.
Dance friends. Who knew? I'm glad they love me and vice versa cuz if little C has her way she's going to dance all through high school with these "sisters" as she calls her little friends in her class.
And I can sit in the waiting room with some pretty cool moms.
Tuesday, December 4, 2012
Day 269
I have all of these words jumbled in my heart and try as I might, I can not organize them into words on my lips. I wonder if I will have more luck here?
Yesterday was rough. The anxiety that is creeping through the cracks and crevices as my TSH and T4 numbers continue to fluctuate is...tough. I am not myself right now. My perception of the world is off and I am vulnerable to the elements for lack of a better word. Last night C took charge since T is out of town again. He read to little C and got her ready for bed, prayed with her, and checked in on me. It's not easy for me to write this as my worth as a mommy is severely in question within my own heart in my weakest moments. I am raw with my self worth in so many ways as I fight through my insecurities at this time when I cannot do all I feel should be done.
Today I could not get out of bed. The phone rang. The beeps went off with texts and still I lay. I was determined to rest until the headache went away, until the dizziness cleared, until I could breathe in and out and I prayed. C has his school geography bee tomorrow. His dad is out of town and his mother is afraid that going to the gym to watch him will put her on the road to a panic attack. What kind of a mother would miss her son in his shining moment, would send her own mother as an ambassador for the family to cheer him on? These were my thoughts today as I prayed.
One of the texts I got was from K. She told me to call her asap. She was in the temple this morning praying for an idea for her family for Christmas. She said the answer was clear and it was this: She commissioned me to write a poem; a family creed if you will. Inspired by Pres. Eyering's Christmas devotional talk, she will include this poem in each of the treasure boxes she is giving to members of her family. She has emailed me each of their attributes to include and the fundamentals she wants included, but she said she leaves it to my own inspiration to write. She asked if I had the time. HAHA.
I am overwhelmed by this tender mercy. This is one of those families that I put on a pedestal. One of those writing assignments I will pray my way through, one of those times where the Lord is so mindful of my needs and abilities even when I feel like I am at one of my weakest points. She (K) believes in me. HE believes in me and HE wanted me to know that today, this very day where I was beginning to forget, where I know my heart was crying out to Him, begging Him to feel useful, to feel needed, to feel as if I could somehow make a difference when I feel like this weakling.
I don't know the process I will go through to write this very important piece. Will it come to me all at once, or section by section? Will I struggle or will it seem easy? Regardless, one thing is clear. The Lord believes in my ability to write something beautiful, to make something beautiful out of this life and I need to remember that. I am a good person. I am a good mother. My weakness does not make me bad or less. I tell you, I wish I didn't have to do this. I wish I could do all the things I want to do. I wish I was this pillar of strength. I don't know why this is still happening, but actually I think I do. I think I am learning to let go more of my pride, to do all things in wisdom and order, to learn empathy because I don't think I quite mastered that before. The lessons I've learned I know are crucial to myself and perhaps even to my little family. I have to remember that and when I am tempted to begin to feel like throwing a pity party to remember all these times where He reaches out and just hugs me.
That is why I write...to remember.
Yesterday was rough. The anxiety that is creeping through the cracks and crevices as my TSH and T4 numbers continue to fluctuate is...tough. I am not myself right now. My perception of the world is off and I am vulnerable to the elements for lack of a better word. Last night C took charge since T is out of town again. He read to little C and got her ready for bed, prayed with her, and checked in on me. It's not easy for me to write this as my worth as a mommy is severely in question within my own heart in my weakest moments. I am raw with my self worth in so many ways as I fight through my insecurities at this time when I cannot do all I feel should be done.
Today I could not get out of bed. The phone rang. The beeps went off with texts and still I lay. I was determined to rest until the headache went away, until the dizziness cleared, until I could breathe in and out and I prayed. C has his school geography bee tomorrow. His dad is out of town and his mother is afraid that going to the gym to watch him will put her on the road to a panic attack. What kind of a mother would miss her son in his shining moment, would send her own mother as an ambassador for the family to cheer him on? These were my thoughts today as I prayed.
One of the texts I got was from K. She told me to call her asap. She was in the temple this morning praying for an idea for her family for Christmas. She said the answer was clear and it was this: She commissioned me to write a poem; a family creed if you will. Inspired by Pres. Eyering's Christmas devotional talk, she will include this poem in each of the treasure boxes she is giving to members of her family. She has emailed me each of their attributes to include and the fundamentals she wants included, but she said she leaves it to my own inspiration to write. She asked if I had the time. HAHA.
I am overwhelmed by this tender mercy. This is one of those families that I put on a pedestal. One of those writing assignments I will pray my way through, one of those times where the Lord is so mindful of my needs and abilities even when I feel like I am at one of my weakest points. She (K) believes in me. HE believes in me and HE wanted me to know that today, this very day where I was beginning to forget, where I know my heart was crying out to Him, begging Him to feel useful, to feel needed, to feel as if I could somehow make a difference when I feel like this weakling.
I don't know the process I will go through to write this very important piece. Will it come to me all at once, or section by section? Will I struggle or will it seem easy? Regardless, one thing is clear. The Lord believes in my ability to write something beautiful, to make something beautiful out of this life and I need to remember that. I am a good person. I am a good mother. My weakness does not make me bad or less. I tell you, I wish I didn't have to do this. I wish I could do all the things I want to do. I wish I was this pillar of strength. I don't know why this is still happening, but actually I think I do. I think I am learning to let go more of my pride, to do all things in wisdom and order, to learn empathy because I don't think I quite mastered that before. The lessons I've learned I know are crucial to myself and perhaps even to my little family. I have to remember that and when I am tempted to begin to feel like throwing a pity party to remember all these times where He reaches out and just hugs me.
That is why I write...to remember.
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