discouragement – thelifeididntchoose

I’m Still A Wife, Mother, Daughter, Sister, Friend

It would be helpful if the world could just stop for a day or a week (or a year!) when your heart is shattered by the news that one of the children you birthed into this world has suddenly left it.

But it doesn’t.

And immediately all the roles I have played for decades are overlaid by a new role: bereaved mother. Except instead of being definitive or even descriptive, this role is more like a foggy blanket that obscures and disorients me as I struggle to fulfill all the roles to which I’ve become accustomed.

Read the rest here: https://thelifeididntchoose.com/2018/12/16/wife-mother-daughter-sister-friend/

Demotivated, Dispirited, Disheartened

I have no idea how it happened but my “get up and go” has gotten up and left.

For the first time since Dominic ran ahead to Heaven, I’m utterly incapable of talking myself out of the doldrums.

I’m not especially sad or anxious, just worn out and uninterested in making progress down my “to do” list.

There are so, so many chores that are best done during these too-brief perfect spring days and I’ve barely managed two. I’m usually rushing from daylight to dark taking advantage of cooler temperatures and comfortable breezes. By now (in a typical year) the porches would be clean, the yard tidied up, some fences mended and windows washed.

Not this year.

Each morning I begin afresh, promising to do better, to make more progress, to finish up the random bits of long-overdue projects and by noon I’m done. Back in the same funk that’s pursued me for over a month.

I understood it better when we were covered up by clouds, drenched in rain and shivering in the cold.

But I can’t figure out why sunshine and flowers, birdsong and breeze hasn’t made a difference and given me an infusion of enthusiasm.

I’ve tried all the usual remedies-eating right, exercise, checking my meds and supplements-but they aren’t effective.

Maybe the struggle against a natural downward trend is what keeps me from truly resting and bouncing back.

I might just give in for a few days and see if that works.

I’ll let you know. ❤

Falling Down and Getting Up Again

I hate that question that every doctor’s office asks now, “Have you had any falls in the past twelve months?”

I always say, “no” even though that’s rarely true.

Because I know what they are looking for is evidence of disease that might be impacting balance and I’m perfectly free of that so I don’t want to place a red flag in my medical chart.

But I fall down pretty regularly. Mostly because I trip over something as I’m walking from one animal enclosure to another, hands full of buckets and mind somewhere else.

The other day was one of those moments.

I was done feeding our beagles, headed back to the house when my feet found a random piece of looped wire on the ground. (I still have no idea where it came from!)

There’s that split second when you know a fall is coming and your mind tries to figure out how to stop it even as your body is giving in to gravity.

Down I went! Hard! On my left knee and right wrist but sparing my head.

It really, really hurt. In fact, it hurt so badly that I simply rolled over and rocked back and forth for a second or two.

Then I realized there was no help for it but to put weight on those knees and wrists and get up. So I took a deep breath, counted to ten and pushed myself up. I hobbled back into the house to survey the damage and put ice on my knee.

And I reminded myself once again that I can do things that are hard, that are painful and that seem impossible.

Life is full of falls-real ones that bang up body parts and figurative ones that wreak havoc with hearts.

They all hurt.

When I find myself down and out I have a choice.

I can sit in the pain and lie helpless and hopeless.

Or I can take a deep breath, gather my courage and get up.

Every time I choose courage, I build up my reserve and strengthen my resolve and make it more likely I’ll get up every time.

[Dis]couraged

We talk a lot about encouragement and we should.

Because coming alongside and speaking courage to a heart that wants to give up and give in is one of the most beautiful things in the world.

It’s a big part of why I write-my daily prayer is that the words I send into space land just where God wants them to and that somewhere, somehow a heart is made stronger.

But life is full of discouragement.

Sometimes it’s a phone call that brings news of a “no” when you were longing for “yes”.

Sometimes it’s finding out that there is more month than money.

Sometimes it’s a friend that doesn’t remember your birthday or anniversary or some other important date and you’re left with no one to celebrate that milestone.

Sometimes it’s the scale registering PLUS two pounds when you’ve been so, so careful to eat well and exercise all week long.

And sometimes it’s more serious than that-a diagnosis, a pink slip (do they do that anymore?), an argument with your child or spouse or parent.

One of the things I’m learning in this Valley is that I am not immune to the myriad afflictions of life on Planet Earth. I don’t get a pass just because I buried a child. I have to trudge through the muck and mire of the everyday just like anyone else.

And while my heart is much better at sorting the truly important from the barely mentionable, there are still many, many days when I feel sad and discouraged and it has nothing to do with Dominic’s not being here.

This week I’ve battled increased and uncontrollable pain due to my RA. I don’t know any other way to describe it except to say that if it keeps me from going outside and doing things, it’s at least an 8/10 on that stupid scale they use at the doctor’s office.

Some routine blood work showed a couple areas we need to watch. Yippee! More doctors’ appointments and more needle sticks.

I’m resigned to the fact that I cannot change any of this. I’m not morose or without hope, but I will admit my heart is faltering just a bit.

I preach truth to myself. I know that in the end all will be made new and right and I won’t even care about the measly 70 or 80 years I spent down here.

But sometimes I’m just plain tired.

I’m tired of fighting against the barrage of everyday joy suckers.

I confess. I’m discouraged. ❤

Encouraging My Heart

It’s easy to be discouraged.

Look around.

If I listen to the news, the world is falling apart. When I look in the mirror-I’m falling apart.

And not a minute goes by that I don’t miss my son in heaven.

But the world-not the WORLD- nor my personal world rests on MY shoulders.

And it doesn’t rest on the shoulders of some ancient made-up god either.

It, and I, were created by and for Jesus Christ. He holds it and me together.

Now Christ is the visible expression of the invisible God. He existed before creation began, for it was through him that every thing was made, whether spiritual or material, seen or unseen. Through him, and for him, also, were created power and dominion, ownership and authority. In fact, every single thing was created through, and for him. He is both the first principle and the upholding principle of the whole scheme of creation. And now he is the head of the body which is composed of all Christian people. Life from nothing began through him, and life from the dead began through him, and he is, therefore, justly called the Lord of all. It was in him that the full nature of God chose to live, and through him God planned to reconcile in his own person, as it were, everything on earth and everything in Heaven by virtue of the sacrifice of the cross.

Colossians 1:15-20 PHILLIPS

So when I lose courage, I will look to the Author and Perfector of my faith. I will cling to the One Who has died, was buried, resurrected and rose to sit at the right hand of my Father in Heaven.

I will take my eyes off the storm and fix them on Jesus, Who calms the storm.

Because He Who began a good work in me, will be faithful fo complete it.

Retreat

As a kid our family made a yearly pilgrimage to the Gulf Coast-back when the beaches were wide open vistas, the water see-through green and the days long and unhurried.

We didn’t spend money on the “attractions” or tourist trap souvenir shops-we got up early to watch the sun rise and spent the remainder of the day back and forth between the beach and the water.

I loved to find a spot that was about waist deep and feel the waves move across my body-up and down, up and down-floating in rhythm to the world’s heartbeat.

But every so often a wave would surprise me, crash over my head unannounced and break the cycle of gentle rocking with a sputter-inducing plunge beneath the salty sea.

As long as the giant waves were few and far between, I could recover, regather my sense of well-being and continue to enjoy the water.

But when the first wave marked a change in the tide or an incoming storm and was followed by more and more of the same, I knew it was time to move toward shore.

I could withstand one or two of these but if there was no chance to catch my breath in between I was going under.

This past week has been a deluge of waves.

Waves of grief,

waves of regret,

waves of disappointment,

waves of discouagement.

No storm clouds on the horizon. No major life events or grief anniversaries-just a turning of the tide.

And so I find myself retreating a bit.

Backtracking from progress I thought I had made. Retracing steps and repeating cycles I though I had left behind.

I suspect that most of us have weeks like this.

You don’t have to bury a child to beg Jesus to make things whole again-to bring hope to your heart again-to ask Him to calm the storm and save you from destruction.

Ebb and flow. Waves and calm. Storms and sunshine. Life is made up of all of these.

I am confident that Jesus is the Peace-speaker. He can calm the wind and the waves.

I want to have faith. I want to learn to call out in trust and not doubt.

I’m working on that and waiting for His Spirit to work on it in me.

But as I wait, I’m going to have to sit on shore for awhile.

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