I had a minor miracle happen last night. But then, are any miracles really minor?
About 10 years ago, give or take, I lost my wedding rings. I thought they were still in the house, but I searched every place I could think of...and a whole lot that were the longest of long shots. I found a lot of things that were missing, but never my wedding set. About every six months or so, I would look for them again, but never located them.
Last night, about 11, as I tossed and turned, I felt compelled to go searching one more time. I looked in all the places I've looked before and, of course, didn't find them. Then, because it was Pentecost, I decided that I would thank God in advance for having shown me where the rings were. As I went through drawers and boxes, I kept giving thanks for having found the rings.
It was a long night.
About 2 am, as I searched through a small jewelry box that I had looked through at least a dozen times before, I saw a small sparkle. I dumped the contents of the box into my hand and there, amid some mismatched earrings was my wedding set.
Had it been there all along? If it was, I hadn't seen it all these years.
And why last night? Why that night would I feel compelled to search for something that had been lost for so long?
I don't know. I just know that I have found the rings and I give thanks for this minor--or not so minor--miracle.
Ordinary Time
Observations of a semi-spiritual nature from under the wing of the Divine.
Monday, May 20, 2013
Sunday, May 19, 2013
Sunday Gratitude and Prayer Score Card
I have a perfectionist streak that says if I'm not writing a perfect blog post I shouldn't write at all...which means I haven't written at all.
Anyone else have that problem? Perfect or not at all? I've been working on that and have made some progress, which I will write about...as soon as it's perfect.
Because it's late and I want to start the week's blogging, here is Sunday's Gratitude.
1. A lovely lily scented votive candle. I got several for my birthday last year and I decided not to "save" them, but to enjoy them...so this is one of the last. Its scent is heavenly.
2. Red rhodies along the side of the road. As in blood red for Pentecost.
3. Finding a bracelet I thought I had lost.
4. Trader Joe's chocolate pudding.
Anyone else have that problem? Perfect or not at all? I've been working on that and have made some progress, which I will write about...as soon as it's perfect.
Because it's late and I want to start the week's blogging, here is Sunday's Gratitude.
1. A lovely lily scented votive candle. I got several for my birthday last year and I decided not to "save" them, but to enjoy them...so this is one of the last. Its scent is heavenly.
2. Red rhodies along the side of the road. As in blood red for Pentecost.
3. Finding a bracelet I thought I had lost.
4. Trader Joe's chocolate pudding.
5. Finding someone to put the moss remover on the roof because I don't do roofs. Never have and never will. (NOT my roof. I do preventative moss remover!)
Prayer Score Card
Actually, it's the same as last week.
3 Yes
10 No answer yet
Sunday, May 12, 2013
Sunday Gratitude and Prayer Score Card
Today is the 19th anniversary of my father's death and, of course, Mother's Day. It's the second without my mother, although I don't recall much of last year at all.
So, remembering both my parents in prayer today. I am grateful for:
1. The fountains in my yard. Here's the one I see the most often. It reminds me of the Middle East, even though it is set in the midst of Oregon greenery.
2. The restoration and on-going healing of a relationship. Only God knows the end of the story, but I am grateful for the healing that has taken place.
3. Skype, which allows me to "talk" with my son.
4. The white cupboards in my kitchen.
5. Fabreze...I have cats. They have litter. Connect the dots.
Prayer Score Card
I have 10 things on my list this month. So far there have been 3 "Yes" and the rest are still waiting.
Interestingly, and this is something I want to explore in more detail, the more specific the prayer, the more specific the answer. And the more immediate the prayer, the more immediate the answer. Both yes and no.
So, remembering both my parents in prayer today. I am grateful for:
1. The fountains in my yard. Here's the one I see the most often. It reminds me of the Middle East, even though it is set in the midst of Oregon greenery.
2. The restoration and on-going healing of a relationship. Only God knows the end of the story, but I am grateful for the healing that has taken place.
3. Skype, which allows me to "talk" with my son.
4. The white cupboards in my kitchen.
5. Fabreze...I have cats. They have litter. Connect the dots.
Prayer Score Card
I have 10 things on my list this month. So far there have been 3 "Yes" and the rest are still waiting.
Interestingly, and this is something I want to explore in more detail, the more specific the prayer, the more specific the answer. And the more immediate the prayer, the more immediate the answer. Both yes and no.
Friday, May 10, 2013
Out of the Depths
I'd like to say, "Where does the time go?" but I know where it went. Into a black hole of work, with a dollop of worry, a slurp of travel, and a heaping cupful of procrastination. Yep, that's where the time went.
The perfectionist in me thinks that unless I go back and fill in all the missing days, I should write at all, but that serves no one, especially not me. So, just a brief backward glance and then moving on.
I was honored to be a guest on Donna-Marie Cooper-Oboyle's new EWTN show, Catholic Moms' Cafe in Birmingham along with several prestigious and well-known authors. Here's a picture of me with Donna-Marie, Marge Fenelon and Lisa Henley. And one on the set for the show.
Then I went to an incredible seminar/retreat in Canada that gave me great new perspectives on my career, my relationships, my motives and my life in general.
Now I'm back in Oregon where there hasn't been rain for days and everyone is talking DROUGHT, but I'm loving the sunshine. I think my heaven has to be sunny. It can sprinkle now and then, enough to give everything that fresh rain smell, but no long, grey, gloomy days that hang like a shroud over my life. (Yes, I do question why I live in Oregon, but apparently the greenery offsets the greyery.)
So, what have you been up to while I've been gone?
The perfectionist in me thinks that unless I go back and fill in all the missing days, I should write at all, but that serves no one, especially not me. So, just a brief backward glance and then moving on.
I was honored to be a guest on Donna-Marie Cooper-Oboyle's new EWTN show, Catholic Moms' Cafe in Birmingham along with several prestigious and well-known authors. Here's a picture of me with Donna-Marie, Marge Fenelon and Lisa Henley. And one on the set for the show.
Then I went to an incredible seminar/retreat in Canada that gave me great new perspectives on my career, my relationships, my motives and my life in general.
Now I'm back in Oregon where there hasn't been rain for days and everyone is talking DROUGHT, but I'm loving the sunshine. I think my heaven has to be sunny. It can sprinkle now and then, enough to give everything that fresh rain smell, but no long, grey, gloomy days that hang like a shroud over my life. (Yes, I do question why I live in Oregon, but apparently the greenery offsets the greyery.)
So, what have you been up to while I've been gone?
Labels:
Donna-Marie Cooper Oboyle,
EWTN,
tv
Friday, April 19, 2013
Mom's Cafe
I've long admired Donna-Marie Cooper O'Boyle, ever since I learned of her decade-long friendship with Mother Teresa. I never thought I'd get a chance to meet her, but God works in mysterious ways. Not only do I get to meet her, I will be a guest on her upcoming EWTN television series called "Catholic Mom's Cafe"!
Donna-Maria has written a simply marvelous book with the same name (almost): Catholic Mom's Cafe" 5-Minute Retreats for Every Day of the Year (Our Sunday Visitor, 2013). When I had a chance to see a copy, I promptly turned to my birth day and chuckled with it was all about not worrying. I think I have a PhD in worry, so the irony was not lost.
I've always loved daily devotionals and this little book is just my cup of tea (all puns intended.) Each day provides a quote from the Bible, an inspirational quote, a short but pithy meditation, a prayer and a thought to carry through the day. It's the ideal length for meaningful insight but not so long as to become another chore. It's the kind of book that would make a great gift for a new mom, a seasoned mother or even yourself!
Donna-Maria also has a great blog at CatholicMomsCafe.blogspot.com. (Disclosure: I am an occasional guest there!) as well as a Facebook page at facebook.com/CatholicMomsCafe. Lots of good stuff there...and not just for moms!
The book will be out soon and I've got it on good authority that you can get an autographed copy at her website. They will be available at Our Sunday Visitor, Amazon, Barnes and Noble and Catholic bookstores as well.
And in case you are interested, here's link to the upcoming TV show and one of Donna-Marie's guests. :)
Labels:
devotional,
EWTN,
Mom's Cafe,
mothers
Wednesday, April 10, 2013
Inside Anxiety
Anxiety and panic are inside jobs.
That's one reason why it's so hard for someone who hasn't experienced them to understand what they are like.
In the past few days, I've had the opportunity to try to explain what they feel like to friends and family who have loved ones who suffer from anxiety and panic. If there is any good that can come out of my experience, perhaps being able to share the "inside" information is it.
Imagine sitting in your favorite chair, with your favorite beverage at hand. (Island Coconut Coffee with real cream.) The sun is splashed across the floor and the cat is basking in the warmth. You aren't awaiting a medical diagnosis. No debt collectors are banging at the door. You aren't facing foreclosure or starvation. No one is dying right this second. All in all, things are pretty okay. If anyone were to look at you, you'd look downright peaceful and content.
On the outside.
Inside it's a different story.
Let's start with the heart. It's probably racing, as fast as if you had just run around the block. It might even feel like it's skipping a beat now and then. But that's nothing compared to the stomach. It's in literal knots, twisting and churning, with surges of nausea. It feels like coming down with the flu. Only you aren't. Then the breath. You feel like you are suffocating, like nothing short of great gasping gulps will bring in enough oxygen. Yet you know if you give in, you'll hyperventilate and feel even worse than you do right now, so you try to breath as slowly and steadily as you can...all the while feeling like you are suffocating.
That's just the tip of the physical feelings. You might add feeling faint, dizzy, shaky, trembling, too restless for words--or conversely, absolutely frozen in place unable to move. All the while, sitting in your favorite chair, watching the cat stretch in the sunshine, looking peaceful and calm.
Mentally it's even worse.There is a sensation of impending disaster and complete doom. You might have enough money in the bank to pay your bills this week, but your mind looks ahead to next Christmas and goes hysterical about how you are going to pay to travel to be with the family if they invite you again. Not to mention how you are going to pay the taxes next April. If you can slow down those thoughts, others catapult in. What if your mammogram, which is scheduled in six months, comes back with a problem like it did a year ago even though it turned out to be fine and you didn't have cancer? What if, when you decide you want to sell your house, you have to repaint it all and how will you find a reliable painter who won't overcharge? And what if the jar of jam that is in the refrigerator has gone bad and you'll get food poisoning because you had it on your toast this morning? And what if you are out of work next year? How will you pay your bills? And how will you pay the taxes in April!!!! Especially if the family wants you to visit at Christmas.
Inside, it's as if your body and mind have become a blender of terror, the physical contributing to the mental and the mental to the physical, all shredded and whirled into fear soup.
Well-intended family and friends try to reason with you...if you risk enough to share what's going on...by telling you that Christmas is more than nine months away and it's not even tax day this year, much less next year, and you aren't planning on selling anytime soon and jam has too much sugar to go bad and no one knows for sure if they will have a job next year.
It doesn't help. You know these things intellectually and if logic were enough to banish anxiety and panic, no one would suffer from them.
Sometimes people who are frustrated because anxiety and panic don't make logical sense and tell you to just get over it. If it were that easy, you'd do it because you would like nothing more than to be freed from these mental and physical sensations.
Others suggest that you take medications and even if you are taking what your doctor has prescribed, you know that the only way to be totally free of the feelings is to be drugged into oblivion and you can't or won't live that way. Not to mention that the mind is the most powerful force on earth and a panic-striken mind can override all but the strongest of drugs.
There probably are some moments when the panic lifts. Maybe it's first thing in the morning, when you wake and think, "Oh, it's gone for good!" Or perhaps it's at night, when you fall into bed, praying that when you wake it won't be brooding on your pillow waiting for consciousness to break through. In those times, when the physical and mental torture wanes, you hope that perhaps today will mark the end or at least the beginning of the end. When it doesn't, the disappointment is almost too much to bear. You understand why some people think that suicide is the only way to be released from the unrelenting grasp of fear and panic because you don't know if you can stand to be disappointed one more time.
But you take a deep breath, sip your coffee, watch the cats and say a prayer that you make it through this minute because that's the only way you can manage. One prayer, one minute at a time. Because anxiety and panic are inside jobs.
That's one reason why it's so hard for someone who hasn't experienced them to understand what they are like.
In the past few days, I've had the opportunity to try to explain what they feel like to friends and family who have loved ones who suffer from anxiety and panic. If there is any good that can come out of my experience, perhaps being able to share the "inside" information is it.
Imagine sitting in your favorite chair, with your favorite beverage at hand. (Island Coconut Coffee with real cream.) The sun is splashed across the floor and the cat is basking in the warmth. You aren't awaiting a medical diagnosis. No debt collectors are banging at the door. You aren't facing foreclosure or starvation. No one is dying right this second. All in all, things are pretty okay. If anyone were to look at you, you'd look downright peaceful and content.
On the outside.
Inside it's a different story.
Let's start with the heart. It's probably racing, as fast as if you had just run around the block. It might even feel like it's skipping a beat now and then. But that's nothing compared to the stomach. It's in literal knots, twisting and churning, with surges of nausea. It feels like coming down with the flu. Only you aren't. Then the breath. You feel like you are suffocating, like nothing short of great gasping gulps will bring in enough oxygen. Yet you know if you give in, you'll hyperventilate and feel even worse than you do right now, so you try to breath as slowly and steadily as you can...all the while feeling like you are suffocating.
That's just the tip of the physical feelings. You might add feeling faint, dizzy, shaky, trembling, too restless for words--or conversely, absolutely frozen in place unable to move. All the while, sitting in your favorite chair, watching the cat stretch in the sunshine, looking peaceful and calm.
Mentally it's even worse.There is a sensation of impending disaster and complete doom. You might have enough money in the bank to pay your bills this week, but your mind looks ahead to next Christmas and goes hysterical about how you are going to pay to travel to be with the family if they invite you again. Not to mention how you are going to pay the taxes next April. If you can slow down those thoughts, others catapult in. What if your mammogram, which is scheduled in six months, comes back with a problem like it did a year ago even though it turned out to be fine and you didn't have cancer? What if, when you decide you want to sell your house, you have to repaint it all and how will you find a reliable painter who won't overcharge? And what if the jar of jam that is in the refrigerator has gone bad and you'll get food poisoning because you had it on your toast this morning? And what if you are out of work next year? How will you pay your bills? And how will you pay the taxes in April!!!! Especially if the family wants you to visit at Christmas.
Inside, it's as if your body and mind have become a blender of terror, the physical contributing to the mental and the mental to the physical, all shredded and whirled into fear soup.
Well-intended family and friends try to reason with you...if you risk enough to share what's going on...by telling you that Christmas is more than nine months away and it's not even tax day this year, much less next year, and you aren't planning on selling anytime soon and jam has too much sugar to go bad and no one knows for sure if they will have a job next year.
It doesn't help. You know these things intellectually and if logic were enough to banish anxiety and panic, no one would suffer from them.
Sometimes people who are frustrated because anxiety and panic don't make logical sense and tell you to just get over it. If it were that easy, you'd do it because you would like nothing more than to be freed from these mental and physical sensations.
Others suggest that you take medications and even if you are taking what your doctor has prescribed, you know that the only way to be totally free of the feelings is to be drugged into oblivion and you can't or won't live that way. Not to mention that the mind is the most powerful force on earth and a panic-striken mind can override all but the strongest of drugs.
There probably are some moments when the panic lifts. Maybe it's first thing in the morning, when you wake and think, "Oh, it's gone for good!" Or perhaps it's at night, when you fall into bed, praying that when you wake it won't be brooding on your pillow waiting for consciousness to break through. In those times, when the physical and mental torture wanes, you hope that perhaps today will mark the end or at least the beginning of the end. When it doesn't, the disappointment is almost too much to bear. You understand why some people think that suicide is the only way to be released from the unrelenting grasp of fear and panic because you don't know if you can stand to be disappointed one more time.
But you take a deep breath, sip your coffee, watch the cats and say a prayer that you make it through this minute because that's the only way you can manage. One prayer, one minute at a time. Because anxiety and panic are inside jobs.
Tuesday, April 09, 2013
Pope Francis and Mary, Undoer of Knots
My heart warmed when I read that one of Pope Francis' favorite devotions is to Mary, Undoer of Knots. It's my favorite Marian devotion.
I wrote about it here.
I wrote about it here.
Monday, April 08, 2013
Sunday Gratitude on Monday
Better late than never, right?
On this Monday/Sunday I am grateful for:
On this Monday/Sunday I am grateful for:
Cherry blossoms
Having the taxes done before April 15
Divine Mercy Sunday--and the hope of healing
Chocolate (See getting taxes done above)
Hope. The thing with feathers, as the great Emily says.
(I can't find the source for this picture, but to whomever created it, thanks.)
Labels:
chocolate,
Divine Mercy,
Gratitude,
hope,
sunday gratitude
Hunkering Down and the Siren of Suicide Revisited
I've said before that when I go on radio silence, both here and in my "real" life, it's because I'm battling demons. So it is with the past weeks that I've been away, hunkered down, steeling myself against the anxiety that wraps its tendrils around my soul, choking out the smallest shoots of joy that try to emerge.
Things had gotten better for me, but then I heard about the suicide of Rick Warren's son. Rick is the author of The Purpose-Driven Life and the pastor Saddleback Community Church in California.
I understand all too well about the siren of suicide.
Days before my mother's death, I wrote about her and her temptations.
While the siren of suicide has visited me, the one thing that has kept me able to function, albeit sometimes in hunker-down mode, has been the line from this Sunday's Gospel:
I know from what his father said that Matt Warren had been prayed for and probably prayed himself for healing and it didn't happen. He remained caught in the claws of his depression until he no longer believed he could stand it.
I understand. Believing that healing is possible and believing that healing for you is possible are two very different things. I suspect that Matt Warren believed that God could heal his illness. However, at some point, he stopped believing that God would heal his illness. I understand that, too. After years of praying with no tangible result, the temptation to stop believing can be overwhelming.
And yet, I keep coming back to that verse: "they were all cured." Not some, but all.
Over and over in the gospels, we read that it was the faith of those who came to Jesus that resulted in their cures. They believed that Jesus would cure them. They didn't hope. They didn't wish. They believed.
And so, on this spring day, as the squirrel runs along the limbs of my cherry tree, causing the blossoms to fall like pink-tinged snow, I say the words of the father in Mark 9: Immediately the boy’s father exclaimed, “I do believe; help me overcome my unbelief!”
I don't know when, but I believe that my prayers that the demon of anxiety that has haunted me since my mother was placed on hospice nearly two years ago will be banished. Perhaps it may even be today.
Things had gotten better for me, but then I heard about the suicide of Rick Warren's son. Rick is the author of The Purpose-Driven Life and the pastor Saddleback Community Church in California.
I understand all too well about the siren of suicide.
Days before my mother's death, I wrote about her and her temptations.
Several bloggers have written about Matt Warren and mental illness, none better than Thomas McDonald of God and the Machine. He articulates the experience of the "clammy parasite that attaches to your soul and sucks out your life day by agonizing day, until annihilation appears to be the only relief" as only one who has been inside the pain can.That's when the siren of suicide sits on the rock and bats her beguiling eyes: "Come see me," she whispers. "I have a solution. A real solution. No more struggling with finances. No more waiting at hospice bedsides. No more trying to figure out how to get through one more day. Just come see me and I will take care of it all for you." (Click here for rest of post.)
While the siren of suicide has visited me, the one thing that has kept me able to function, albeit sometimes in hunker-down mode, has been the line from this Sunday's Gospel:
A large number of people from the townsNotice, it doesn't say that some were cured. It says ALL. All were cured. All those disturbed by unclean spirits, and certainly anxiety, depression and suicide are unclean spirits, were cured. When the cold foggy darkness seeps into my soul, I remind God--and myself--that ALL were cured.
in the vicinity of Jerusalem also gathered,
bringing the sick and those disturbed by unclean spirits,
and they were all cured.--Acts 5
I know from what his father said that Matt Warren had been prayed for and probably prayed himself for healing and it didn't happen. He remained caught in the claws of his depression until he no longer believed he could stand it.
I understand. Believing that healing is possible and believing that healing for you is possible are two very different things. I suspect that Matt Warren believed that God could heal his illness. However, at some point, he stopped believing that God would heal his illness. I understand that, too. After years of praying with no tangible result, the temptation to stop believing can be overwhelming.
And yet, I keep coming back to that verse: "they were all cured." Not some, but all.
Over and over in the gospels, we read that it was the faith of those who came to Jesus that resulted in their cures. They believed that Jesus would cure them. They didn't hope. They didn't wish. They believed.
And so, on this spring day, as the squirrel runs along the limbs of my cherry tree, causing the blossoms to fall like pink-tinged snow, I say the words of the father in Mark 9: Immediately the boy’s father exclaimed, “I do believe; help me overcome my unbelief!”
I don't know when, but I believe that my prayers that the demon of anxiety that has haunted me since my mother was placed on hospice nearly two years ago will be banished. Perhaps it may even be today.
Monday, March 25, 2013
Deliver Us from All Anxiety
One of the things I miss in the new translation of the Mass are the words, "deliver us from all anxiety." Somehow "deliver us from all distress," while presumably more accurate to the Latin, isn't as meaningful to me, especially when I am in the grips of an anxiety attack. I want to be delivered from anxiety, not just distress!
Since I've admitted to suffering from anxiety, I've been surprised at how many people have told me that they, too, have had their experience with this particular demon. People who appear to have their lives in complete order, with success in every aspect from relationships to finances, say that they battled or still do battle anxiety.
I'm not sure that misery loves company is quite accurate in this case, but it is interesting how many people carry this dark secret. And make no mistake...this is a very dark secret. The kind of dark secret that is usually associated with alcoholism, drug addiction or other types of haunting addictions. It's one thing to say that you are nervous; it's another to admit that even when you are sitting safely in a chair, looking out into a bright spring day, your heart is racing, there's a stabbing pain in your solar plexus and you don't feel like you are going to survive another minute, much less another day or week or month.
I wish I could tell those of you who have confided in me that I have the answer, the solution. I don't. Sometimes I get a modicum of relief and have a respite from the fear, but so far it has always returned. For me, it begins with my first breath in the morning, rising to a crescendo by mid-afternoon and, on the good days, diminishing by evening. Sometimes, by the time the moon is rising, I actually have moments of calm and peace. Those moments I treasure and try not to think that they will be gone by break of day.
It's the hardest battle I've ever fought and I'm not sure that I will win. All I know is that I keep trying and keep fighting and keep praying that perhaps, just perhaps, when the sun rises one morning, the demon will be left perpetually in the dark night of my soul.
Since I've admitted to suffering from anxiety, I've been surprised at how many people have told me that they, too, have had their experience with this particular demon. People who appear to have their lives in complete order, with success in every aspect from relationships to finances, say that they battled or still do battle anxiety.
I'm not sure that misery loves company is quite accurate in this case, but it is interesting how many people carry this dark secret. And make no mistake...this is a very dark secret. The kind of dark secret that is usually associated with alcoholism, drug addiction or other types of haunting addictions. It's one thing to say that you are nervous; it's another to admit that even when you are sitting safely in a chair, looking out into a bright spring day, your heart is racing, there's a stabbing pain in your solar plexus and you don't feel like you are going to survive another minute, much less another day or week or month.
I wish I could tell those of you who have confided in me that I have the answer, the solution. I don't. Sometimes I get a modicum of relief and have a respite from the fear, but so far it has always returned. For me, it begins with my first breath in the morning, rising to a crescendo by mid-afternoon and, on the good days, diminishing by evening. Sometimes, by the time the moon is rising, I actually have moments of calm and peace. Those moments I treasure and try not to think that they will be gone by break of day.
It's the hardest battle I've ever fought and I'm not sure that I will win. All I know is that I keep trying and keep fighting and keep praying that perhaps, just perhaps, when the sun rises one morning, the demon will be left perpetually in the dark night of my soul.
Labels:
anxiety,
fear,
panic,
panic attack
Sunday, March 24, 2013
Sunday Gratitude, Prayer Score Card and Anxiety
When I struggle with anxiety and panic, I become a hermit crab.
I withdraw, retreat, and everything from this blog to friends to laundry is left behind. That's what has happened these past few days. I've gone into my shell, trying to keep the battering waves at bay.
I don't think that I've ever faced anything as difficult as coping with the anxiety that has been my near-constant companion for nearly two years, starting when my mother first went on hospice and through her death and the last year of grief.
Oddly enough, twice now, in the middle of a raging panic attack, I was told what a calm person I was. Outwardly, apparently, I do appear serene, but on the inside, my heart is racing, my chest is aching and every muscle fiber twitches with "fight or flight." And yet, by dint of will and practice, I must look as if I am very much in control of myself. Perhaps that's why I retreat when the pain is too great. It's much easier to be calm when you are hidden under the bedclothes than when you are out in public.
As we enter into Holy Week, I went back to read what I had written last year about Jesus, the Garden of Gethsemane and panic attacks. And as we enter into Holy Week, once again I pray that perhaps with Easter will come healing and restoration and anxiety may become for me, just a memory of a time recorded on a blog. This is the week of miracles, after all.
With that, this Sunday I am grateful for:
As for the prayer score card,
3Yes
12 No answer
and 1--not sure. I had prayed for clear direction on a decision and I never got direction, but I had to make a decision. So not sure if that is a yes, no, or no answer.
I withdraw, retreat, and everything from this blog to friends to laundry is left behind. That's what has happened these past few days. I've gone into my shell, trying to keep the battering waves at bay.
I don't think that I've ever faced anything as difficult as coping with the anxiety that has been my near-constant companion for nearly two years, starting when my mother first went on hospice and through her death and the last year of grief.
Oddly enough, twice now, in the middle of a raging panic attack, I was told what a calm person I was. Outwardly, apparently, I do appear serene, but on the inside, my heart is racing, my chest is aching and every muscle fiber twitches with "fight or flight." And yet, by dint of will and practice, I must look as if I am very much in control of myself. Perhaps that's why I retreat when the pain is too great. It's much easier to be calm when you are hidden under the bedclothes than when you are out in public.
As we enter into Holy Week, I went back to read what I had written last year about Jesus, the Garden of Gethsemane and panic attacks. And as we enter into Holy Week, once again I pray that perhaps with Easter will come healing and restoration and anxiety may become for me, just a memory of a time recorded on a blog. This is the week of miracles, after all.
With that, this Sunday I am grateful for:
- Trader Joe's Dixie Peach juice that tastes like summer when summer seems far away
- Daffodils...next to lilacs, my favorite flower
- The ongoing and joyful restitution of a relationship
- Bits of blue in an otherwise grey sky
- Hope...even when I'm feeling like a hermit card
As for the prayer score card,
3Yes
12 No answer
and 1--not sure. I had prayed for clear direction on a decision and I never got direction, but I had to make a decision. So not sure if that is a yes, no, or no answer.
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