I don’t know why I feel compelled to tell you that the whole bunch of happy I blogged about on Wednesday morning had pretty much all but disappeared by Wednesday night.
Busy schedule, waves of exhaustion, fighting children, Gabe not feeling well, my glaring ineptitude in a million different areas. I blogged about my books yesterday and got almost no response and immediately decided that everyone hates me and everything I’ve ever written. (no need to tell me otherwise or purchase a pity book–I’m already almost over it)
Nina got off the bus yesterday (Thursday) and immediately got into it with Ava. Tears, yelling, everybody in trouble, Daddy’s heart rate elevated. A few minutes of peace, Livi gets home, and she and Ava start a fight that turns into 4 of the 5 of us (Nina hid out in the living room with Arthur and D.W.) angry and screaming.
And I think I’m going to homeschool all of them next year?
Great meeting at our place from 7-9pm with the Compassion & Justice team from church (the only meetings I’ve ever loved and not despised). It’s a good thing we were hosting, or else there’s no way we would have gone with all of our red eyes and racing hearts.
Girls in bed, enjoyed some time with Gabe, in bed at a decent hour, up at midnight with Gabe and a panic attack. He was convinced he was dying. I was so tired I wanted to die. I didn’t understand why God was allowing it all to happen again. Still don’t. All I could think was that we have a lifetime of this looming over us, and we will never, not ever, be able to go back to Cambodia, not even for a visit, and it broke my tired heart, and I just cried. And prayed over Gabe and scratched his back and at some point, we both fell asleep.
Then I missed the recycling truck this morning for the second week in a row and burst into tears. Seriously. It felt like the end of the world. Still does.
Why am I telling you all of this? Not sure. I think partly because I wrote in my journal through tears and opened my Jesus Calling (a gift from a sweet friend with troubles a million times tougher than mine) and the first sentence was, “Thank me for your problems.” (Jesus talking to me)
So I did.
“The very act of thanking me releases your mind from its negative focus.”
So I thanked him for all that stuff I just wrote about, and I’m slowly feeling the self-pity lift (sloooooowly).
And I’m determined to figure out how to find joy amidst/despite my circumstances. Happy times will come, but they don’t last, and more things will come along that have the power to disappoint, dishearten, dis-whatever IF I give them that power.
I don’t want to do that.
I want to fix my eyes on Jesus. Will you pray I can do that?
Thank you, friends.