Fear

The internet is an amazing place to find others with common interests, common backgrounds, common occupations, common habits, common...oh, you get the picture. You can find some great laughs, some great stories, some great teaching aids, some great recipes, etc etc etc. Those tubes can dispense some remarkable information.

But it's also a place where fear lurks. Where you can read about horrifying human rights violations. Or about someone who is experiencing a disfiguring disease. Or someone who sows hatred wherever possible. Or about someone who has lost their young child.

Right now I'm brought very low with remorse over my recent self-named 'escapes' from my kids. I've had a night away with my husband, going out on a friend's boat out in Prince William Sound (yes it was fun), and I was gone most of the day today, first on a walk with one friend and then to town to 'play' with another before she leaves for medical school. And you know what? I thoroughly enjoyed being on my own, no kids in sight, no potty training stress, no toddlers pulling on my shirt and calling out "mama!" One might even say I reveled in it. Of course, you say, that's how it should be. A little time away from the kids is a good thing. Some time to yourself is 'earned' and needed and should be sought out and savored.

But I've just finished reading a blog of a family that lost a young child, a son not yet two, within the last few days. Inexplicably, their little boy died sometime in the night and they found him, lifeless, that horrifying morning. I cannot even begin to imagine the pain they are feeling. The dizzying sorrow that has invaded their house. And their sweet boy was a twin. Something that hits even harder at my heart, if that's possible.

And I find myself feeling guilty. For wanting to be away from my kids, those precious gifts that God gave us to raise and cherish. For wanting to have some 'me' time, time to be selfish and carefree. For wanting to be away instead of here. For not wanting to spend every moment I possibly can, drinking in their curiosity and their silliness and their interactions and their conversations and their dreams and their hopes and their beauty and their being.

I know. It's silly and not a little pointless to take all that on. But the fear that 'it could happen to me' is real and I'm feeling it. The thought of losing any of my children makes my heart constrict in my chest and my eyes well up with tears. How the hell is it that I can take them so for granted? Those smart, funny, beautiful children that light up my life? How?

Forgive me, Father, for being so careless with your gifts. And help me to always be thankful for those gifts. Each and every precious one.

Let's see

Who am I?

beloved child of God
wife
mother
daughter
sister
friend
librarian
pastor's wife
mom of two sets of twins (God's quirky sense of humor at work in the world)
reader
homebody
volunteer
Alaskan (yes, this feels like my home state now...no longer a Hoosier first)
lazy butt

I'm sure I could come up with more adjectives/jobs/roles/personas, but this list seems to fit most of who I am/do. I sort of put it in order of importance, too. (No wonder I get stressed. I have a lot on my plate.) The first one might sound mushy, but it's true. I sure don't always remember that cherished spot I have in my Lord's family in the midst of my busy-ness, but when I'm down or feeling icky (as evidenced in my last post) allowing that fact to seep back into my consciousness gives me such a feeling of belonging and peace that I'm surprised I don't remember it more often.

Duh.

I recently completed a Beth Moore study called Loving Well. Her basic premise is that we can't love well if we don't allow ourselves to be well loved. She said so much more during the course of that study but that is the biggie I came away with (besides Joy, Testy, Foe and Far and the blessing of combing a stranger's hair...gotta do the study to understand all that!). Allow God to love us well and we will be able to love well...His light in this world.

I don't think I allow God to love me well most of the time. I don't slow down to consider it. I don't really think I'm always worth it. And I certainly don't reflect enough to take it in. Really take it in. It goes without saying for me that God loves me. One of my spiritual gifts is faith and I really do believe with all my heart in my God and all he has done and will continue to do for me. But to fully accept that love? It boggles the mind. My mind anyway. I'll keep working to let his love wash over me and through me and see if I can't cut down on the type of downer posts I did last time.

Jesus loves me, this I know.