Sunday, August 14, 2011
How much joy has been ripped right out of my hands by anxiety girl? What were those songs our mini van was blasting just this morning? Oh, "do not be anxious about anything" followed by "the Lord is close to the broken heated." A lesson for my preschoolers or a lesson for me?
It happens all the time. I pick Claire up from whatever and the dreaded behavior report. My ears hear "Claire is having a really hard time today. She is into everything and very defiant." My heart hears "You are a terrible Mom. Control your child." My walls fly to attention. I go into defensive mom mode. "We are really working hard with her on this" or "my husband will be home soon. She misses him...." Why can't I believe what they meant was "I know you are both working hard, she'll pull through this"?
God, I have so far to go and I'm tired. I run and my knees burn and it feels better then the sting in my heart, the constant voice in my head telling me I'll never be enough. That things will never change enough. That I'll always muddle through. Could you stop ramming my face down into the pavement? That would be great!
What Lord? I'm doing this to myself? I'm running and I'm trying and I'm hearing the wrong voices.
Is it that simple? But I want to hold this mess together. You help me hold it together!
Let go and I will tell you the truth. I love you and Claire and you are my beloved little girls. I want to hold you deep. Like taking a sleeping child from her car seat. Wrap your arms around with trust. I'm holding Claire too.