Previously, we talked about the fear that sometimes descends over us like an unwelcome blanket, smothering us. And yet, we cling to our fear as a self-soothing exercise. We are used to it.
How do we throw away the fear that always seems to linger on our hands, like unwanted gum we are trying to put in the trash?
So clearly, the night skies weren’t predicting clear skies and smooth sailing for this child. These diagnoses were the first true storm that woke us up to trouble ahead. Up until that day, we thought our growing feeling of seasickness was due more to our own queasy stomachs than to the ominous, ongoing waves of the sea that were making us feel unwell.
Suddenly a furious storm came up on the lake, so that the waves swept over the boat. But Jesus was sleeping.
Join people in over fifty countries who read this to gain valuable life wisdom! (Or maybe they’re just laughing at me? . . . Whatever!)
I was devastated by these diagnoses in all honesty. Our beautiful, kind daughter, the one who tried so hard, loved so completely, and who still had her whole life in front of her, seemed to be in a fog most of the time.
We tried to wake her up with “Enrichment Activities” the experts recommended when she was a baby, but she still slept for 20 hours a day, piling up her milestones behind her while she slept.
It seemed that the horizon of her future would be truncated and shorter than the full expanse that we hope for each of our children.
What now? We were ushered into the new world of “Autism and Special Education” appointments with experts, which were like annoying fire alarms set into our otherwise peaceful homeschooling days. Having fun quietly playing a board game with a sibling?
“TOO BAD! You HAVE to go to X appointment RIGHT Now!”
Sometimes, often, she would scream in protest at these new, unwelcome interruptions, but I would force her into the car, strap her seatbelt so she couldn’t resist, and drive away, my supermom cape trailing behind me as I drove.
“Experts knew best!” I reminded myself as I drove! Except when they don’t. And they usually don’t in these situations.
But that’s for another time.
Got a stomach that can handle some seasickness, friend? Maybe take some Gravol for the seasickness before you read on. There.
Are you feeling better?
And now let’s sit for a bit by the seaside before we decide to board that boat together. The journey I am suggesting will require learning some sailing skills and building our physiques. Up for a challenge?
He lean on Him to give us strength for the journey.
As the song below plays, imagine that Jesus is right next to you. He is! Smile at this knowledge! Do you feel your soul relax? As you ponder the lyrics, “You are the peace in my troubled sea,” or “Your great love will lead me through,” consider sitting in the quiet for a few minutes and asking Jesus, “How can I stand behind You, and then row this boat ashore, with You guiding and directing, to help us sail through this storm?”
And I pray that God leads you through your storm, friend, as you listen closely to Him guiding you.
The journey is a thing, but you’ve got this, holding the hand of the one who walks with us on raging seas and sometimes even calming the seas raging in our lives. Oh! And our child was healed of the negative challenges associated with all of these diagnoses.
But I’ll have to tell you that story another time.
Thanks for liking me! I like you too! – Proven HERE, HERE, and HERE! Let’s journey together!
So I woke up this morning in a tizzy. A tizzy of frenetic brain activity. Some might even be so low as to assume that someone of my high spiritual caliber was struggling with worry.
Join people in over fifty countries who read this to gain valuable life wisdom! (Or maybe they’re just laughing at me? . . . Whatever!)
I poured out my heart to my empathetic husband, tenderly giving him glimpses and opening my heart to him this morning, as we sat next to each other, coffees in hand, neither of us quite awake yet.
His sensitivity to me pouring out my bleeding heart in front of him was on full display, evidenced by what he said next.
He said only two words: “YOU? Worry?”
Wait. Was that mock surprise? Could that (possibly!) be sarcasm in his voice?
No, it couldn’t be!
But was that a slight smile on the corner of his lips that he couldn’t quite repress? Impossible. But, yes, I do find myself worrying a smidge about a few things (every day).
Was he making fun of me?
Well, maybe, but sometimes that’s what we need each other for. In this case, however, he was wrong. AS IF I’m the kind of person who worries every day!
Well, my editor says I need to be more honest as I write articles, so there might be a twinge of truth in what he hinted at.
And when I went upstairs to my prayer room to begin my day (See! I AM spiritual! I don’t care what they say!), I wondered if Jesus would agree with my husband that I tend to worry a smidge more than necessary.
“Oh, you of little faith,” is the thought that comes immediately to mind, on repeat, whenever my mind quiets or when I begin my prayers lately.
I think this is a term of endearment in how God speaks to me with these words, but you can interpret them however you like. (If you have even less faith than I do, for example, you might take the words literally.1 ) Then, I wondered if Holy Spirit was perhaps reminding me to number each of my worries and then to lift each one to Him, one by one.
#1 – I listed a problem. I lifted my problem to God. “What did I already say?” was what I seemed to be reminded of in my heart. Oh yeah! Holy Spirit had already been nudging me towards action in that area.
#2 – I listed another problem. I remembered that God has the whole world in His hands, and so if my hands aren’t big enough to hold the world, that’s okay. He’s got this.
#3 – Etc., Etc.,
“I got out of worry!” I jubilantly announced as I walked downstairs later that morning.
My husband didn’t look up from his phone.
My daughter didn’t notice me.
My dog, however, looked up at me, expectantly, tail wagging. At least my dog wanted to hear what I had to say! (Or maybe he really wanted breakfast?)
My (human) family was less impressed with my newfound wisdom and clarity because this is what happens often (more often than I care to admit, actually).
I accidentally take on all the cares and worries of the world on my back, again.
It feels amazing to me (swapping a twinge of suffocating anxiety for a smidge of sanity), but it happens every time that I remember to do this exercise.
So my family simply ignores me. This ritual has become a part of the mundane. But it is a transformative mundane, nonetheless.
And that has some sort of value.
“You aren’t solely responsible for the entire cause of and solution for climate change,” was one of the thoughts that clarified my thinking in the prayer room one morning. True story! And so I could live a little freer, with a little more joy.
I remembered some stuff that I already knew, but I had forgotten again.
And I’ll probably have to do that tomorrow. And the next day, too. And probably every day.
Are you feeling a bit heavy today? As the song below mentions the lilies and sings, “if I listen closely, I can hear her sing to me,” try numbering your worries, one by one, lifting them to a God who loves you and loves the world and has a plan for you. What do you sense in your heart as you do this today, friend? And I pray you will also soar (like me!).
You’re welcome!
Good luck!
. . . when you yield to the life of the Spirit . . . you will . . . be . . . soaring
Thanks for liking me! I like you too! – Proven HERE, HERE, and HERE! Let’s journey together!
Photo Credits: Carrying The Cares Of The World, Too? (That’s Too Hard A Way To Be Amazing) by Wesley Tingey on Unsplash, Why Not Soar, Little Ducks? by Rachel Fang on Unsplash
What if being healed might be as easy as finding your ears?
She was a shell.
She was skinny and sickly, often lost in her little world. Her stomach racked her in pain. Friends were elusive.
She was unhappy, never having (even once!) exploded in childhood giggles that should have been her right.
My husband and I oscillated between worry and confidence that she would grow out of “this.” One of us, either he or I, carried the ball of fear for this child. The ball of concern never went away.
I was introduced to the world of the weird (for lack of a better word) by my grandmother, a person everyone considered strong in her faith.
Join people in over fifty countries who read this to gain valuable life wisdom! (Or maybe they’re just laughing at me? . . . Whatever!)
I was a child.
My grandmother, a devout Catholic with no vocabulary for “hearing from the voice of God,” but instead an intuitive inner knowing that could not be verbalized, was bothered one evening. She told me that she had been thinking about her dear friend all day and could not get her friend out of her mind. She wasn’t sure why.
In the end, my grandmother decided to telephone her friend.
A phone call is a no-brainer for us, but phoning to talk was not done by my beautiful grandparents, who lived through the Great Depression. Phone bills at that time were calculated by the number of minutes spent on the line. Once, I called my mom from their house to ask her to pick me up, and my grandfather paced behind me, quietly cursing me under his breath in Italian (I knew THOSE words!) for taking four minutes to say what could’ve been said in two minutes. In his opinion, this was extreme wastefulness on my part! It would be another half hour before my grandmother could calm him enough for him and me to resume our card game.
And thus, my grandmother, fighting the same inner resolve against wasting money on an unnecessary phone call and listening to my grandfather pacing back and forth next to her, cursing, phoned her friend.
After my grandmother said a few compassionate words, she hung up the phone again. “Mrs. Cabianca found out today that she has cancer,” my grandmother informed us who were waiting near the phone.
Mrs. Cabianca was shocked by this diagnosis, as she was as healthy as a mule, or so she thought.
“That was weird,” I thought, staring at my grandmother.
I resumed playing cards with my grandfather, and my grandmother resumed washing the dishes, apparently unperturbed by this usual unusual occurrence. I guess this sort of thing wasn’t uncommon for her. But God had planted a small seed of faith in me that day.
Was there more?
What do you do with the “weird stuff” that you have heard about or (Heaven forbid!) has actually happened to you?
Do you:
Brush it aside, assume THAT CANNOT BE, and go on eating your lunch and being distracted by the games on your iPad – I, for one, would never do that. Just sayin’. (If so, your ears are lying on the floor, friend. God wants to speak to you through them. Do you have the courage to try them on even for a few minutes? Then you can put them back on the floor again, until you are strong enough to try again.)1
Do you hold one ear up to your head for an instant, and then quickly dispose of it, like bathwater? Even though your ear never QUITE touched your head, you ASSERT STRONGLY that THERE WAS NO SOUND. You know you are right. (I would never simply assume I’m right! Just sayin’.)
Do you hold up your ear, and give it a listen? Do you shake out the cobwebs in your ear and in your head before giving it a go again tomorrow?
Are you longing to hear?
If so, I have great news for you, friend:
Those who are hungry and thirsty to be right with God are happy, because they will be filled.
As the song below sings, “everything here ain’t quite what it seems, there’s more beneath the appearance of things,” plead with God to help you hear. That’s when the fun begins, friend. God, help us pick up the clues we stumble upon in this life, and help us want to find you and open the door to the greatest gift of all, you, Jesus.
Thanks for liking me! I like you too! – Proven HERE, HERE, and HERE! Let’s journey together!
“Yeah, I don’t even know how I found her,” I mentioned to my husband offhandedly, as I distractedly finished my lunch. I had forgotten.
Join people in over fifty countries who read this to gain valuable life wisdom! (Or maybe they’re just laughing at me? . . . Whatever!)
We were talking about my chiropractor, who was like a gift from God, healing my back with her expertise.
The next morning, my prayer group reminded me how I had found her. Years earlier, a friend had some trouble with her foot. She mentioned the name of the person who is now my chiropractor.
Her, Holy Spirit seemed to nudge my heart.
My friend was reluctant to share her contact information with me. “I have no idea if she even adjusts backs,” she cautioned.
Her, Holy Spirit seemed to repeat.
I was in a phase of rejecting all therapy at that time.
Everything I tried, every physiotherapist, chiropractor, masseuse, and others had made me worse. Much worse. I was afraid to try anyone else.
“I’ll just have to solve this on my own,” I had thought.
But with a nudge from God, I made the call. I was tense and nervous in her office that first day. But she became the gift God gave to me.
And I was thankful for her.
Until I forgot about her (Hey! It happens!)
Months later, I hobbled around, one hand on my back, bent over and twisted.
Aside: This is a picture of me at the gym so you can be suitably impressed with how strong I am!
Wait – I meant to put in this picture1, below – Whatever!
But on that (annoying) day, after my too-intense workout, I could feel my lower back muscles clench, pushing me into a C-shape. “This strain will probably get better on its own,” I thought. I was in denial, again, but my body kept slowly bending me over.
The name of my chiropractor popped into my head.
Oh right! But we were leaving on holiday.
I didn’t think I had the time to see her, and she is normally booked weeks in advance, anyway.
I continued to pack, holding my aching back. But again, and again, the chiropractor’s name went through my head that morning, as I was thinking of other things. This is one of the ways God speaks to us.
I finally called the chiropractor, the one I hadn’t seen in five months, the one I had somehow forgotten about after a season of happy back. She surprisingly had one cancellation that morning, which worked perfectly before we left on holiday. Her touch was like the hand of God.
I don’t mean to be overly dramatic, but that is how it felt to me.
My body obeyed the chiropractor’s touch and re-aligned. My posture was upright. I (carefully) went about my day, and in only several days, instead of several months, I was running again.
I could run faster, complete the triathlon, and horse around with the kids again sooner, much sooner.
(There is another and another who helped my back a ton as well, but those are different stories.)
God walked with me in my pain, and His Spirit guided me to a person who used her skills to allow God’s healing through my body.
And I have remembered, now, to be thankful to God for her, too.
If I dwell by the farthest oceans, even there your hand will guide me.
God, you long to give out treasures, but we so infrequently come to You to receive. Help us, Jesus, to run to You as a small child in distress runs to their parent, longing for an embrace. May we trust You more deeply with our headaches, heartaches, body aches, and spiritual aches.
Thanks for liking me! I like you too! – Proven HERE, HERE, and HERE! Let’s journey together!
Photo Credit – Yeah! I Feel Like That, Too! by Thomas Oxford on Unsplash, Me! by Random Person Standing Nearby, and Wow! She’s STRONG! by Marvin Cors on Unsplash (No Wait – Reverse The Order Of Those Last Two Photos – Whatever!)
1 What? WHO said that’s a “Training Bar” and “Training Weights”! You can’t prove it from that photo! (To my editor: Can they?)
Restoring Life 