Posted in Anxiety, Faith, Family, Grief, Marriage, Mental Health, motherhood

Which Voice Am I Listening To?

WHICH VOICE AM I LISTENING TO?

Inner Critic:  “You cannot stay on a workout regimen save your life.”

Inner Cheerleader:  “Start with 15 minutes again tomorrow.  You’ve done it before .  You can do it again. ”

Inner Critic:  “Your friends are probably so angry with you because you are not checking in with them as much as you used to.  It’s your fault if they don’t stick around.”

Inner Cheerleader:  “You have had to narrow down how much you are pouring out into people for your own well-being.  You’ve done that so that you can be a better friend.”

Inner Critic:  “You should NOT spend so much at the grocery store.  You need to stick to a list.”

Inner Cheerleader:  “It costs just a bit more to eat healthy, which has been a goal for you and your family.  Keep up the good work!”

Inner Critic:  “I can’t believe you are so racist?”

Inner Cheerleader:  “You are learning to listen to those who are not like you.  You will grow and change.  You always have.”

Inner Critic:  “Why do you tell people you have a good marriage?  You just had another fight with your husband.”

Inner Cheerleader:  “Look how far you have come from the early days.  You’ve seen how sometimes conflict brings closeness.  You have helped so many other couples because you can admit you struggle too.”

Inner Critic:  “You will never get to those boxes in the basement that need to be organized.”

Inner Cheerleader:  “You have been sorting through many things in your life, not all of them visible to the outside world.   You will get to it when you are ready.”

Inner Critic:  “You know that cookie you ate?  You blew it again.”

Inner Cheerleader:  “You know that cookie you ate?  Good for you for showing yourself it’s not about perfection, but about grace.”

Inner Critic:  “You didn’t set good boundaries again with your kids.  When will you get this right?”

Inner Cheerleader:  “Being a mom is a hard job, no matter how old your kids are.  Boundaries are tricky and complicated and you are really doing what you think is right in each different situation.  Also, you are really good at saying you are sorry when you blow it.”

Inner Critic:  “Why do you even bother to give advice?  To share your heart?  To try to make a difference?”

Inner Cheerleader:  “You don’t do it because you have it all together.  You do it because you are broken too and it’s in this broken place that we all heal each other.”

WHICH VOICE HEAPS SHAME AND DESTROYS?
WHICH VOICE WHISPERS GRACE AND BRINGS HEALING?

WHICH VOICE AM I LISTENING TO?

 

 

 

 

Posted in Celebration, Childhood, Family, Grandparenthood, motherhood, Thanks

I Can’t Believe This is My Life

Baby showers.  Hospital rooms.  24-hour deliveries.  No sleep.  Leaky nursing bra.  Baby giggles.  Blurry mind.  Toothless smiles.  Crawling under the crib in the middle of the night for the pacifier.  Yellow poop up the back.

I can’t believe this is my life.

Tantrums in grocery stores.  Toddler tunes enough to drive a normal person crazy.  First full sentences.  Bonked heads.  Refusals to nap.  Go Dog Go.  Happy bubble baths.  Weird obsessions.  Endless hugs.

I can’t believe this is my life.

Play dates.  Obnoxious Nick Jr.  Skinned knees.  Brown play-dough.  Playgrounds.  Accidents in pants.  Too many doctor visits.  Smooshy kisses (right on the lips)!  Melt-downs.  “Parent’s, please stay with your child” birthday parties.

I can’t believe this is my life.

Homework.  The car.  The car.  The car.  Class parties.  Sidelines and fields.  Strange sounds coming from musical instruments.   Mom school projects.  Fibs.  Surprise “I love you” notes.  Whining.  Lost jackets, mittens, and hats.

I can’t believe this is my life.

Cliques.  Hormones.  School performance pressure.  Spontaneous hugs.  Rolling eyes.  Good talks in the car, facing forward.  Did I say hormones?  Budding independence.  Dinners on the run.  Concerts.  Teams.  Plays.  Try-outs.  Rejections.  First paid gigs.

I can’t believe this is my life.

First kisses (and second and third).  Team dinners.  Slammed doors.  Missed curfews.  Drivers’ licenses.  YIKES.  Long unprompted talks.  Proms.  Less and less control.  Senior nights.  Heartbreaks.  Texts not returned for what seems like hours and hours and hours.  Real Christmas presents.  Car accidents.  College apps.  Caps flying in the air.

I can’t believe this is my life.

Dorm shopping.  Saying goodbye.  Endless mom tears.  Weeks between texts.  WORRY.  Weird campus visits.  Saying hello.  Curfews???  No.  Home-cooked food.  Yes.  Summer job???  Possibly.  Up till all weird hours.  Yes.  Dirty dishes.  Yes.  Family.  Saying goodbye again.  Less mom tears.  More mom relief.  REPEAT for four years.

I can’t believe this is my life.

First jobs.  W2s.  Uhauls.  “Adulting.”  Used car lots.  Uhauls.  Sincere and heart-felt “thank you moms.”  Heated conversations about world events.  Tearful hugs goodbye.  Zoom family game nights.  Did I mention Uhauls?  Mother’s Day flowers from afar.  Wedding planning.  Real friendship.  Grandpuppies.  Precious and fleeting moments “ALL TOGETHER.”  Yup.  Uhauls.

I can’t believe this is my life.

Baby showers.  Hospital rooms.  24-hour deliveries.  Baby giggles.  Toothless smiles.  After-bath smells.  Snuggles and kisses.  Toddler tantrums.  Excitement over Mommy’s old Fisher Price school bus.  Go Dog Go.  Sad “see you soons.”  Facetime laughter.  “I love you the most, Mema.”  Happiest hugs hello.

YUP.  I can’t believe this is my life.

BUT I COULDN’T BE MORE GRATEFUL THAT IT IS.

AND THERE IS STILL MORE TO COME.

 

 

 

 

 

Posted in Anxiety, Faith, Marriage

2:30 AM

Why am I awake again?

Maybe it was that cookie.

Why did I eat that cookie at 9:30?

Sugar is not good for me that late.

It’s not the cookie.

There’s a lot to think about, and even more to worry about.

Who can sleep?

God’s got me.
I’m going to be okay.
Will I ever feel normal again?
The world is just not okay.
I can’t solve it.
I wish I could.
God can solve it.
Can He?
I can do my part.
What is my part?
I need to go back to sleep.
I’m going to be a mess in the morning.
I guess I should pray for someone else who is awake.
God, please bring peace to my friend who is super anxious and not able to sleep.
Wait a minute.
I am also super anxious.
My leg itches.
Why does my leg itch?
I hope I didn’t get poison ivy on our 400th hike.
Should I get up and check?
No. That will just make me more awake.
Try to go back to sleep.
It’s probably nothing.
I wonder why my husband doesn’t have any issue sleeping.
He’s very sweet, but it’s still really annoying.
I’ve been kind of a cranky in the house the last few months.
Well, duh. I’m not getting good sleep.
But I should try harder tomorrow.
Maybe if I turn over and face the other direction, I will be able to go back to sleep.
That light from outside is still on.
Should I get up and turn it off?
It’s just wasting electricity and we’re trying to save money every which way we can.
That reminds me. I have to call the electrician to fix our light fixture.
But maybe that should wait.
We are in the middle of a pandemic.
Stop being so ridiculous.
What are the chances of the electrician infecting me?
I can just leave the house and then Lysol spray everything he touches.
I hope Lysol wipes will finally get back in stock somewhere.
This pillow is just not comfortable.
God, can you please help me to get back to sleep.
There are a lot of people who don’t even have a bed.
I should be so thankful.
What is wrong with me?
I have everything I need.
What is wrong with me?
There I go again, heaping shame on myself. UGH.
I need to listen to that podcast on healing from shame tomorrow.
Am I ever going to be really okay?
Yes. I’m going to be okay.
I’m safe in God’s hands.
Nothing can happen to me that He won’t be with me.
That’s the truth.
I’m hanging on to that.
Maybe now I can actually go back to sleep.
Uh-oh. I have to pee.
Posted in Anxiety, Faith

LOST

Untethered.

Shaky.

Confused.

LOST.

How I have felt often in the last 86 days.

86 days since I’ve touched a human other than the two I live with.

86 days since I’ve entered a building without some level of trepidation.

86 days since I’ve not woken up wondering when all this will be over.

Untethered.

Shaky.

Confused.

LOST.

How I have felt often in the last 86 days.

Last week, I especially felt LOST.

I didn’t have words to speak.

I didn’t have the strength to muster.

I didn’t have the answers I long for.

I finally shared, tears streaming down my face, with some friends that my usually hope-filled, positive, “look-on-the-bright-side” self felt LOST.  Really LOST.

It was vulnerable.

It was scary.

It was hard.

BUT I’m so incredibly glad I did.

One of them spoke the most healing words of truth I’ve heard in the past 86 days.

86 days.  86 LONG days.  86 days of feeling LOST.

Here they are.

Screen Shot 2020-06-08 at 10.32.20 PM

 

 

 

Posted in Faith, Family, Mental Health

Sometimes grace for yourself looks like…

Sometimes grace for yourself looks like…

  • eating a guilt-free chocolate chip cookie
  • taking a nap right in the middle of a to-do list
  • skipping church and talking to God on your walk in the woods
  • sitting down with a cup of tea or coffee, staring into space
  • letting your kids have an extra hour of screen time
  • breathing in and breathing out very slowly for ten minutes
  • not checking your email for a whole entire day
  • making a “why I like myself and God does too” list
  • getting take-out
  • letting the tears flow in the shower until there are no more
  • forgiving and embracing the earlier version of you
  • skipping your workout
  • making your very own choice, even if it’s different than everyone else’s
  • asking for help with the dishes
  • taking a break from your own very responsible brain
  • reading a “not-trying-to-fix-you” book
  • making much-needed space for alone time
  • NOT making the bed
  • laughing OUT LOUD at a silly video or a bad joke
  • sleeping in late and staying up late (basically re-becoming a teenager)
  • allowing yourself to have completely opposing feelings at the same time
  • playing anything, just playing (did I mention playing?)

GRACE is free.

GRACE is beautiful.

GRACE is life.

GRACE is enough.

 

Posted in Faith, Mental Health, Sabbath

Tired.

This “Esthergizer Bunny” is just a wee bit tired.

Mentally.  Emotionally.  Physically.  Spiritually.

TIRED.

Keeping my anxiety in check with all the counseling tools I’ve been given.

Making sure a germ doesn’t get into this house.

Using every ounce of self-control I have not to just be downright cranky (note:  sometimes, it’s not working…ask anyone who lives with me).

Fighting the weeds in our gardens.

Playing “frogger” with poison ivy on our latest hike, dog in tow (note:  I am always at war with poison ivy).

Pleading for wisdom for all the decisions I need to make in this new normal.

Organizing every inch of our new home.

Questioning God on all the fronts.

Zooming until my eyes and head hurt.

Preparing our rental property for the summer season with every new precaution under the sun.

Watching the fights play out on social media.  Open.  Close.  Mask.  No mask.  Freedom.  Safety.

Listening to the fights go on in my own head.  Open.  Close.  Mask.  No mask.  Freedom.  Safety.

Battling the grief process out with God:  denial, anger, bargaining, depression (note:  acceptance is socially distancing right now and she’s got a mask on, maybe even two or three).

SOOOO…. what’s a TIRED girl to do?

I’ve come up with a little plan for the weekend.

It’s called jumping into a pile of GRACE and REST.

It’s going to be a…

SLEEP-IN

DO A CROSSWORD PUZZLE

HAVE A LONG, SLOW CUP OF TEA

GET TAKEOUT

GIVE MYSELF PERMISSION TO NOT CROSS ANYTHING OFF MY TO-DO LIST

NO NEWS

MAYBE MAKE BANANA BREAD (or not)

TAKE A NAP

PLAY GAMES WITH MY KIDS

DO NOT PULL A WEED

WATCH HULU CUDDLING WITH MY HUBBY

KICK THE SHOULD-MONSTER OUT OF MY HEAD

HAVE A KLONDIKE BAR

…kind of a weekend.

The “Esthergizer Bunny” will be back soon enough.

She’s getting some much-needed SHABBAT SHALOM! 

A peaceful rest.

Posted in Anxiety, Faith, Grief, Mental Health

What Do You Want From Me?

I got real with Jesus just now.

I angrily pleaded, shouting in my mind, WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME ANYWAY?

His gentle answer surprised me.

You have it all wrong, backwards in fact. It’s the question I’ve been waiting to ask you. What do YOU want from ME? What do YOU need? As a mom? As a wife? As a friend? As a woman? As a human? What do YOU need today?

Really, Jesus? Really? Cause I have a whole list. You ready?

I’m tired. Tired of holding it together. Tired of the extra work. Tired of the mental load. I NEED STRENGTH.

I’m confused. Not sure what to do in this new normal I find myself in. I NEED WISDOM.

I’m irritable. Emotions flying off the wall and out of my mouth. Cranky. I NEED PATIENCE.

I’m sad. Sad that so much good has been taken away. I’m really sad. I NEED JOY.

I’m afraid. It’s scary out there and even here in my own head. I NEED PEACE.

I’m discouraged. Everywhere I turn, it seems like bad news is being shouted loudly. I NEED HOPE.

This time around, His gentle answer did NOT surprise me, because it’s been buried deep in my heart for SO long, just waiting to emerge.

I’ve got all of this IN SPADES for you.
Truth be told, I AM ALL OF THIS.

I am STRENGTH.
I am WISDOM.
I am PATIENCE.
I am JOY.
I am PEACE.
I am HOPE.

There is plenty of ME to go around. I will give YOU all that YOU need today, because what YOU really need is ME.

Posted in Faith, Mental Health

What’s the Plan?

There’s no five-year plan right now.
There’s hardly a five-day plan.

I’m the queen of plans.
To-do-lists.
Schedules.
Goals.

I’m used to being completely sure of all my next steps.

Now, I’m confused.
Unsure.
Doubtful.
Wondering.

Forced to live in the moment, the present, the next five minutes.

Needing God’s wisdom and grace as I navigate what it means to

…have freedom for myself, yet thoughtfulness for others

…have confidence in my decisions, yet unwavering grace for those who make different ones

…live in the unknown, yet trust I am held by the One who knows me

…ONLY be able to do the very “NEXT right thing in LOVE.”

Maybe that’s been the point all along.

Posted in Anxiety, Faith

I’m Afraid of it ALL

Politics.
Religion.
Even something as complicated as parenting choices or as simple as the choice of who to root for on the field.

And now COVID.

Accusations.
Judgment.
“I’m in this camp.”
Social media comment fights.
“I believe I’m right and you are wrong.”
Personal attacks.

“I want freedom at all costs!”
“I want safety at all costs!”

What’s at the root of it all?

FEAR.

WE ARE ALL AFRAID OF SOMETHING.

Dying.
Being wrong.
Not having enough _________ .
Being left out.
Suffering.
Not being liked.
The unknown.
Heights.

The list goes on and on.

To be honest, I’m afraid of it ALL.

BUT I don’t want to live and act from that place of FEAR.
I don’t want it to be the boss of me.

I hope to live and act from a much better place:  LOVE.

Here’s why:

LOVE begets GRACE.
GRACE generates KINDNESS.
KINDNESS breeds BELONGING.
BELONGING creates SAFETY.
SAFETY produces PEACE.
PEACE conquers FEAR.

“There is no fear in love. Perfect love drives out fear.”
(I John 1:18)

Posted in Anxiety, Childhood, Faith, Friendship, Mental Health, Thanks

Insomnia and SELAH

Good morning SELAH,
I loved seeing you yesterday, even though it was from a distance. I loved watching you play with our dog.  I loved hearing from your mom and dad about your hike in the meadow. I loved how we talked at the end about being “awake” together during the night.
Last night, I woke up a few times and just like I told you, I thought of you and prayed for you, that you wouldn’t be afraid like you’ve been the last few weeks.
But it was more than that and I want to tell you what happened.
When I woke up, I thought about the things that God is and then I thought about you.
The first thing I thought about is that GOD IS LOVE. He loves me. He loves you. But then I thought about you, your name. SELAH. I was told when I was about your age that when I saw that word in the Psalms, it meant, “pause and reflect.” So that’s what I did in the middle of the night.
I thought about God loving me and you and then I just laid there for a minute with your name: SELAH. I laid there and thought a little longer about how much God loves me and you. Paused and reflected.
The next thing I thought about is that GOD IS GOOD. He is good to me. He is good to you. Then I thought about your name again. SELAH. I laid there just another minute, pausing and reflecting.
The very last thing I thought about is that GOD IS WITH US. He is with me. He is with you. SELAH. I don’t think it was very long at all before I drifted back off to sleep.
I woke up a couple more times during the night and thought more about these three things. And YOU. Praying that God would help us to be able to rest and sleep and remember over and over and over again that He loves us. He is good to us. He is with us always.
SELAH, you are a beautiful young lady (I can’t believe you are only nine) and I am so grateful that I know you. I am so thankful that the name your mom and dad gave you helped me so much last night.
Tonight, if and when I wake up again, I’m going to be thinking about you and God and pausing and reflecting. SELAH.
If you wake up in the middle of the night this week (and I hope you don’t), remember that you are not alone and that I am “awake” with you, and God is taking care of us both.
Love,
Miss Esther