When Fear Leads

Good morning! Or maybe good afternoon or even good evening.

 Well, where ever this finds you today I hope it's good. It's been awhile since I've posted and I really have no good reason. So many things have popped in my head the past month and I couldn't bring myself to share. But that's why I'm going to share this...

   Do you have a fear? [this is where every single one of you should reply with a yes. Don't worry your secret is safe with me.] 

fear

ˈfir/

noun

noun: fear; plural noun: fears

1. 1.

   an unpleasant emotion caused by the belief that someone or something is dangerous, likely to cause pain, or a threat.

   "drivers are threatening to quit their jobs in fear after a cabby's murder"

   synonyms:

   terror, fright, fearfulness,horror, alarm, panic, agitation,trepidation, dread,consternation, dismay,distress; More

That my friends is the copy and pasted version of googles definition of 'fear'. We can all relate to this in one way or another. If you feel brave, share what your fears are. I have many fears. Phobias if you will. Fears that are full blown anxieties.

   The fear of rejection for example. Now, you could argue that that's a pretty fair trepidation. Everyone wants to be liked and being rejected quite frankly sucks. Most people, and I say that loosely because I don't honestly know for a fact if 'most' people actually do this, but, they move on from being rejected almost instantly or they don't put much thought into their encounters with the outside world. 

  For me it ranges from 'stranger to best of friends'. Strangers, like the cashier at Target not laughing at my, admittedly, dumb joke, sends me into an anxiety ridden car ride home. Or the acquaintance you see every so often, who you can't seem to stop bringing up how much your kid likes cheese because you're too scared to say anything meaningful, leaves you regretting not getting to know them better and fearing they don't want to get to know you.

Then, even with an extremely close friend you long to just be honest and say 'my heart is hard and sad, I need someone to help me' but you can't trust them enough to let your guard down because you would rather go at it alone than to be rejected by them. So you smile on, you give out another lame joke to lighten the mood, and keep yet another person at arms distance.

   Loss is also a great fear. I wake up every morning fearing that Bentley died in the middle of the night. Or he's unconscious because somehow I didn't know he has an illness that came up over night. I play in my head that Cole gets into a car accident on his way home from work and all of a sudden I can't breath. I dread phone calls because of the horrifying news that might come of someone I love not coming home. The list is long. 

  That's me. It's probably you too. It seemed to get worse as I grew up and now being a mom. Wondering if you're going to make friends in new friends, stressing if the lady next to you thinks you're being a good mom, being unable to sleep for fear you have an unwanted guest in your house, and the worst, Terrified that your loved ones have been taken from you. 

   Satan wants to steal our joy. He wants us feeling alone and broken. That's when we are most vulnerable. He has snatched me up so many times and it's not pretty. He assists me in destroying everything in my path. It feels good. He plays the role of what I long for most so I do anything for it. But then something happens. That tug. You know the one I'm talking about? The one that could almost be described as someone litterally trying to pull you away from the wreckage. Thank God, litterally, that HE does pull me back. That's where I'm standing today. Fighting back and clawing my way to good. 

The past, I dunno, four-ish years of my life have been really hard. Not bad. Just hard. I have been so incredibly scared. All  the time. Im tired and I'm asking God to pick me up. Maybe you're tired too. Ask him too. This is not a 'I've overcome my fears and I'm going to give you wisdom on how' type of post because I'm not there. It honestly is just MY first step in chipping away at my fear and showing truth. This is me. I'm a wife, a mom, a daughter, a sister, a friend, and I'm scared.

    Isiah41:10 says 'fear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God; I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.'

    Today I'm thankful for this promise and I'm looking forward to the journey of healing.

The Pinecone, the Rock, and the Tree

Our story begins on a quiet street with a cool breeze rustling what's left of the browning leaves, the sun shine peaking through a light cloud of smoke, and a mother and her son walking hand in hand. 

As you probably guessed this story is about Bentley and me. You're pretty clever. Nothing gets past you.

Moving along, I'd like to actually take you back a day and a half. The day I started on my journey of memory lane, remembering what it was like to be vomiting for what seems to be no apparent reason. This time was unlike any pregnancy symptoms [trust me people, when I know you'll know ok so just be patient and if that day comes we can all party together.] no no this time was just a good old fashioned food poisoning. Or so I think. Could've been a bug but either way....you're vomiting and hating anything and everything. 

Ok...can we just take a moment and appreciate how AWFUL that sickness is. Out of them all I have to say id rather be a stuffed up, coughing, achey mess than to be surrendering at the foot of 'the John'. Am I right? Yuk. 

Anywho, bada-bing-bada-boom I'm here hanging my head over the porcelain thrown and all that's running through my head is 'THIS IS THE END' 'I will never eat again' and 'I would surgically remove my stomach myself if I could stop throwing up for 2 minutes'. All of a sudden everything becomes irrational and dramatic. One more thing had popped in my head and it's been weighing on my mind ever since. 'I never want to be pregnant again'. In that moment it was hard and true. NEVER again will I put myself in a position to do this again. When I was, finally, coming up for air more often than not I had an awful feeling in my gut and not the kind that was causing me such turmoil moments prior. I was no stranger to the ole 'Lou' when it came to sickness. From about week 6 to... Week 30 I was litterally suffering from 'morning sickness' when I was pregnant. So over half of my pregnancy was committed to sleeping on bathroom floors and ER trips. This was two years ago now, I quiet honestly had forgotten the feeling and have been dreaming of babies and feeling like maybe this could be time to start a new adventure by adding another little human in our life. But as I'm huddled on the bathroom floor like I spent most of my days only two years ago, I felt so sad that I couldn't bare the thought of this being my life again. So as the night went on and I eventually decided I better go into the ER for fluids, I pondered this over and over again. 

When the vomiting ceased and the rational thinker and less dramatic....HAHAHA that's not a thing....me, came closer to the surface, I started to think of how dumb I had been. I searched for my baby boy who I felt like I hadn't seen in weeks! And just held him. I felt his warm silky cheek on mine, his tiny hand on mine, his sweet scent wafting into my nose making the most sickly feeling vanish in an instant. WHY WOULDN'T I do that again?

Which brings me back to today. Fresh air needed by me, mommy son time definitely was a must, we gathered ourselves and started out the door. 

His tiny fingers clutching mine, we walk in silence mostly, just watching leaves skip across the road and admiring neighbors decorations. Then he kicks a Pinecone, and just like that we are playing a game. I kick it, he kicks it, he bends down to grab it and throws it, and then I do the same. His giggle fills the calm and all I can see is his smile. As any toddler game it's short lived and his mind wonders off. Then he takes off running and I tell him we are going to race. An advantage for me as I'm still queasy is my one step equals his hurried toddle [hands waving and knees high]. We squeal and laugh to the corner of the street and he held my hand once again. Content with the simplicity of just being there. We round the next corner and start up the drive way when another treasure is found. A ROCK. Not just any old rock. But the squareish rock of the thousands of rocks in the driveway. He picks it up with his chubby fingers, runs up the drive way and throws it. An eruption of laughter again. How is he this happy? What's with boys and rocks? But his giddiness overrides the questions and I watch his joy become mine. We make our way to the back yard where he then runs around and finds one of the many trees that fits his fancy. Small and meek compared to this tall sturdy tree. He picks at it's bark. Fascinated at the flakes crumbling in his hands. He moves on. After lots of car rides and baseballs hit, we make our way inside so mommy doesn't keel over and continue our relaxing routine inside. 

So many times I find myself saying to myself 'live in the moment' 'cherish this time' 'he will only be this age once' and rarely do I take mine and a lot of trusted family and friends advice. 

Granted, the beauty of food poisoning is bleak, but what I mean is I didn't take a chance to appreciate that I made it through it. I made it through my hyperemisis and I made a HUMAN while doing it. That's pretty cool. I felt like I was cheating any baby I may have in the future of feeling wanted and appreciated because I am 'living in the moment' of the negative. The bad stuff doesn't last forever. If anything it makes it much more worth it. Especially, if you take a moment to notice the pinecones, the rocks, and the trees.