Trust

All posts tagged Trust

Bring on the Bouquets of Sharpened Pencils!

Published September 1, 2015 by ia84

September is here.  That means the leaves will start turning brilliant, beautiful colors very soon.  It’s not long until it gets cooler out (yay!), and before you know it almost everything will be flavored Pumpkin Spice.  You’ll go to McDonalds, and they’ll be all, “Would you like to try our new Pumpkin Spice chicken nuggets?”    The problem with Pumpkin Spice is that it gets WAY overused.  Pumpkin Spice hot chocolate=Good.  Pumpkin Spice M&M’s=Bad.

September also means that pretty much all the kids have gone back to school.   Soon they will all be sharing everything, including some really fun diseases.  It’s good to share, kids, but I’m sure your parents would appreciate you not bringing the flu home any sooner than you absolutely have to.

The start of a new school year has always fascinated me.  For a very brief window of time, students get to make a fresh start.  Sure, the previous school year was absolutely abysmal, but it’s a new year.  It’s time to be more mature.  It’s time to actually do homework.  It’s time to prove you’re smart and not just a wallflower.

It occurs to me that the kids aren’t the only ones making a fresh start this new school year.

A little over a month ago, I came to a startling realization.

I’m married.  I’m no longer single.

Okay, I know this shouldn’t be such a shock.  I think in my head I knew I was married, but I was so scared that it wasn’t real, I was refusing to let my heart believe it was true.  However, it is true.  Our marriage isn’t perfect, we’re not perfect  people, but we sure are adorkable!

See, we’re super adorkable!

At the same time it hit home for me that we really are officially a permanent part of each other’s lives, it also dawned on me that I had a really bad habit.  I’m an emotional eater.

It started way back in junior high.  I was getting bullied, and the only way I could deal was by eating.  Which lead to even more bullying.  It was a vicious cycle.  Once junior high ended things got better, and I did pretty well throughout high school.  It helped that I was in swing choir, because I got a pretty good workout most days of the week.  Then in 2004, a year out of high school, things went pretty kablooey at home, and I found myself constantly eating.  I didn’t want to burden people with my emotions, and to be honest I really didn’t trust most of the world around me.  So, I ate…and ate… and ate…and ate…  I turned my brain off, because I didn’t want it to tell me I was full, and to stop eating.  Instead, I spent the next several years eating and ballooning.  There were a few times I made weak efforts at losing the weight, but frankly I didn’t really care enough to make it work.  Besides, by 2011 I was convinced I was going to grow old and be the crazy spinster cat and book lady.  So, it didn’t really matter if what I weighed or how I looked.  The only person who cared was me, and I really didn’t care.

Now, though, there’s this boy, and crazily enough I trust him.  I trust him enough to realize that it’s okay to vent about my frustrations verbally, instead of eating a large Hawaiian pizza by myself.  He cares about me, and actually wants me to be healthy.  And more than that, I want to be healthy for him.

The worst part about having a bad habit  is trying to break it.  In August, I made a goal of not eating fast food for a month.  I also joined Weight Watchers.  I actually did pretty well.  I only had fast food 3 times, and I was really good about tracking what I was eating.  Now as I head into September, I once again am planning to avoid fast food all month.  I’m also not going to drink any soda.  I did have to cancel Weight Watchers, not because I hated it (I actually loved it), but because I found out that a bill that I knew was going to go up this month is going to go up quite a bit more than I was originally told.  I don’t know that we’ll be seeing a skinny me anytime soon, but I’m at least making an intentional effort now.

Let’s All Sing The Doom Song!

Published May 17, 2014 by ia84

So, last Sunday was Mother’s Day.  As I get older, I find the day is a cornucopia of mixed emotions for me.  On the one hand, I’ve been very blessed to have some incredible ladies in my life.  Mom, aunts, grandmas, friends.  These ladies deserve to be honored and celebrated.

On the other hand, I want to be a mom, and the older I get, the more I understand the sadness childless women feel on Mother’s Day.    Until I was twenty-two, I firmly did not want kids.  Absolutely not.  Kids terrified me, and I didn’t think I’d stand a chance of being a good mom.  However, something started changing in my heart, and the next four years I found myself in the mode of, “I do want kids, maybe not this instant, but I’m thinking I’d like to be a mom.”  Then, my brain moved to the point of, “We live in a psycho world, it’s an absolutely insane idea to want to bring children into this world, but I don’t care.  I want to be a mama.”  It’s true.  I don’t have the vaguest idea of how to be a mom, but women have been moms since the beginning of time; so there’s a good chance I wouldn’t be the worst mother ever.  And yes, I know you don’t have to actually go through pregnancy and labor to have kids and be a mom, but I find myself praying that one of these days I’ll get to go through that experience as well.

And, while I usually pep talk myself that should a miracle happen and God gives me a little rugrat, there are some days, like today, where I worry I’ll emotionally scar the future rugrat for life.

I’m an internalizer.  When something upsets me, I lock it inside, and let it fester.  It’s a totally “healthy” way to deal with things.  Unfortunately, when things fester, they tend to eventually explode.  Like I did.  Tonight.  The situation isn’t really that important.  Yes, something needed to be done.  Yes, I was just as good a candidate to deal with it as anyone.  However, I handled it wrong.  I fully accept the responsibility for handling it wrong.  I’m still not sure how I should have handled it, but I definitely should not have done so in anger.

Later, after I started to calm down, I got really sad.  Here I am, wanting to be a mom, and when a mothering situation came along I totally screwed up.  I found myself berating myself for asking God to let me have a go at being a mom when I struggle so much to handle even basic confrontation situations.  (As you can tell, I’m clearly emotionally mature.)  In the midst of this inner fight/pity party, I suddenly had the first verse of What a Friend We Have In Jesus pop into my head.

“What a Friend we have in Jesus, all our sins and griefs to bear!
What a privilege to carry everything to God in prayer!
O what peace we often forfeit, O what needless pain we bear,
All because we do not carry everything to God in prayer.”

Joseph M. Scriven

I’m not trying to get all preachy here.  In fact, I’m not one hundred percent sure why I feel compelled to share this sad little tale of my lack of emotional maturity.  I do know, though, that the more I thought about those words, the calmer I got.  It also occurred to me that I talk a good line about loving Jesus and believing in God, but I rarely take anything to Him because I don’t want to bother Him with my measly little problems.  After the disaster of today, though, it occurs to me that I really do need His help.  As long as I try to handle things without help, doom is inevitable.