learning to not worry.

Samuel was sleeping for almost four hours.

It was his afternoon nap, his usual long afternoon nap that he loves to take, that he actually asks to take. I had just returned from the Orthopedic Clinic and Whole Foods where I bought sorghum flour to make just one more batch of gluten free cookies with. Within minutes of coming in Todd questioned me about Samuel.

Is it normal for him to sleep this much?

A simple question, really. Yet, for me, the mother of a little boy who ran undiagnosed fevers for nine months prior to being diagnosed with Celiac Disease it was an unsettling question. I normally wonder about things, but when Todd starts to wonder about health stuff I pay attention. I remember, two days before Samuel was admitted to the hospital, sitting at the table and Todd telling me that he was worried about Samuel because he knew something wasn't right.

Um, yeah, I replied quickly, his doctor told me it will take years for his immune system to get to where it needs to be and he'll probably need extra sleep.

That was all my husband needed to hear. He was good, he trusted me, he trusted Samuel's doctor, and he was okay for the moment. He told me to watch it and keep track of the hours.  But, not me. I let that little bit of worry start to gnaw away at the mother bear in me. A quick facebook/tweet asking how much a two year old slept was next. Then the watching of the time -- pondering how he could sleep that much. Then the google search. Sigh, the google search which I warn people not to do. And I did it.

I crept up to his room, and opened the door the stealth like quiet way that I've mastered and looked in. He was peaceful. Sleeping with his arm tucked around his John Deere blanket. I watched him and then quick touched his forehead to make sure he didn't have a fever. He hasn't had one for months -- compared to the 3week cycle he was on before. And yet, there it was again.

Worry.

I came out of the room and sat down at the top of the stairs with my head in my hands.

I cannot live in worry.

I cannot allow a question about him and his health create anxiety and fear.

I simply must look at how good he's doing. At his energy, spunk, and zest for life. At his appetite. And how quickly he got over a cold -- when a cold last year would have resulted immediately in croup.

When I worry, I pray. I pray that I am reminded of the good. I pray that the cloud of worry is removed from my vision and that I can rest in the health that he has now. I pray for peace for my heart, and faith for the future. And I thank Jesus for the healthy little boy who climbs, and plays, and laughs throughout my day.

I want to walk into his room and not fear that he has a fever.

So when I walk up the stairs, I pray for a healthy, smiling Samuel to greet me.

Today, when he finally woke up at 5:48 pm I ran up to his room. As I picked up my little fighter, my Samuel, in my arms, I asked him how his sleep was.

Good, mamma, good.

As I hugged his sweet little body and walked down the stairs, the same stairs I sat praying on an hour before, I let that worry slip away.  He's good, he's good.

Thank you, Jesus, for today, and for the vibrant little boy who just happens to need a great deal of sleep. Thank you.

yokes

Sometimes being strong means letting go.

Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.
Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me,
for I am gentle and lowly in heart,
and you will find rest for your souls.
For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light. 
Matthew 11:28-30

Today I will set down worry.
Ah, yes, worry.

It's all too easy to
worry about academics
worry about Samuel's health
worry about finances
worry about my to do list
worry about time
worry.

And worry robs joy.

cast all your anxieties on him, because he cares for you
1 Peter 5:7

Today I set those overflowing worry pails down.
And I ask for His joy.

letting go of fear

I have a confession.

I tend to worry.

(if you were my mother and were reading this you would be nodding your head in agreement)

Especially about medical stuff.

We've had our share.  Cancer.  Hematology issues. Even me and my silly shoulder.

Now with Samuel dealing with his bowel problems I've found myself tiptoeing -- make that running -- to worrying.  Google Searching.  Wondering.  Fearing.

Not praying.  Surrendering.  Living.

While researching options or possibilities isn't intrinsically wrong, spending hours of time allowing fear to take over just might be crossing the line into the territory of worry.

Can any of you by worrying add a single hour to your life? Matthew 6:27

And yet, here I was last night, tiptoeing in Samuel's room and checking him sleeping.  I made that trip three times - in twenty minutes.  One time I woke him up just so that I could hold him.  I'd like to state it's because I love to look at that angelic face -- which is true -- but, I've also recognized that I'm fretting over him.

Then people brought little children to Jesus for him to place his hands on them and pray for them. Matthew 19:13

Worrying will get me nowhere.  Well, it will make the terrible knot in my shoulder worse, but will not succeed in answering the root cause of Samuel's problems.  I simply need to surrender my fear.  Let go of the baggage.  The answers will come, and when they do we will move forward.

It's all too easy, at least for me, to switch from spending times on my knees in prayer to sitting in front of the computer screen.  I admit it.  I want to figure stuff out on my own.  I'm stubborn in that way.  But, I know, really really really know that the Lord is calling me to remember.  To remember that He knit Samuel.  That He knows Samuel more intimately than I do.  That He knows the answers.

That I'm to rest in Him.

And that's exactly what I plan on doing.

Right now.

Come to me all who are weary and burdened and I will give you rest.  Matthew 11:28

the don't frets

since I posted some of my rules a couple days ago today I thought it would be a great segue to post some of my don't fret thoughts.  You know, the things that I've had to learn to let go of, those items where you get to a point and realize it's not worth worrying about?

My don't frets:

:  don't fret if the milk spills

:  don't fret if your Christmas cards are late -- to all of you who know me -- expect it late. :)

:  don't fret if your 14 month old gets spaghetti all over his face (thanks Hannah for the pic)

:  don't fret about others opinion of your family size

:  don't fret when you see people counting your kids while you walk through Costco

:  don't fret that your family takes ALL the samples at each Costco sample station

:  don't fret if your house isn't perfectly clean when others come over

:  don't fret if you look silly with your kids

:  don't fret about followers, or numbers, or hits on your blog

:  don't fret about health -- learn what you need to learn -- but don't sit in worry.

:  don't fret about not having professional pictures taken every year

:  don't fret if your non-professional pics don't turn out perfectly

:  don't fret if your latte has too much foam -- just ask them to add milk -- but don't leave till you do

:  don't fret about your latte with too much foam especially if you didn't ask for it to be fixed

:  don't fret if your gloves don't match when it is -24 degrees outside

:  don't fret if your kids don't keep their lego sets together

:  don't fret when they dump all the legos out on the floor or their bed

:  don't fret when they receive duplicate lego sets

:  don't fret if your kids handmade cards have misspelled words

:  don't fret if your 3year olds pant and shirt don't match on the day they dressed themself

:  don't fret about the 11 loads of laundry that need to be folded.  (this one might be just speaking to me)

:  don't fret about snow storms -- have fun with this snow instead (this is also a rule)

:  don't fret if the Christmas presents aren't wrapped perfectly

:  don't fret if your cinnamon rolls burn -- the insides are still good

:  don't fret if your fam stays in their pajamas for most of Christmas

:  don't fret -- or at least try not to -- if your 5year old drinks most of your latte that you had fixed without the extra foam

:  don't fret -- here's why -- 

Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, 
what you will eat or drink; or about your body, 
what you will wear.
 Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothes? 
Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, 
and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. 
Are you not much more valuable than they?
Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life?
Matthew 6:25-27

tumbling

It's time to be real.  To pull back the masks and write about life.  Reality.

That sometimes it's hard.

You know, those days, right?  Or weeks?  Or months?  Those times when it feels as if you're racing and yet your legs are burning and the finish line isn't even visible?

That's where I am now.  Not all the time, but I've been struggling with overwhelm.  Too much to do.  Perfectionism.  That desire to have things "just perfect"  creates discontent.  Plain and simple.  If the house isn't how I want it, then somehow I've given myself selfish permission to be crabby -- snippy -- short-tempered.  Instead of working with joy entitlement slowly crept into my demeanor.

What to do?

I'm trying to find the balance -- the tension in joy.

So I keep on trying to praise, to be thankful. I'm not perfect, not at all. I've got my moments where the overwhelm of daily life tries to pin me down. So beyond praising I've had to fight.  I've had to fight myself, my selfish desires, and view life from a global picture. And to honestly realize that it will be hard. Sometimes I feed myself these lies that everything can be just easy if I had this, or my house looked liked this, or simply because I deserved it. Nope. Being a mom and a wife is work. Hard work.

I've been thinking only of me.

And all that me think makes me fall over.  Tumbling.

So today, I will pick myself up, and start again.

With joy.

Restore to me the joy of your salvation
and grant me a willing spirit, to sustain me. 
Psalm 51:12

roots

He will be like a tree planted by the water that sends out its roots by the stream. It does not fear when heat comes; its leaves are always green. It has no worries in a year of drought and never fails to bear fruit." Jeremiah 17:8

Where are my roots?

Lately, I've felt enslaved to flickering hope.

I've been adopting an attitude that wants to just become numb to the world.  You know - the functioning mom - moving around, smiling, looking like she's got it all together.  When on the inside there's ache.

What does it mean to have no worries in times of drought?  My earthly mind cannot understand not worrying. I try.  But, then, once again, I slip into worry.

Worry does not produce fruit.

I was thinking that I needed to just keep going.  Fighting.  Grinning and bearing it.  But my roots were shallow, and not centered on Christ, but on the sands of this world.  Then today, when I was sitting on my couch, I realized I could either continue doing this world on my own terms or surrender my agenda and sink my roots into Christ.  So I prayed.  And this is all I could muster.

Jesus, Jesus, Jesus.

That's it.  Over and over.

Those tap roots, those words, began to fill me with hope. Not mine. But His.

sprawling roots from my silver maple

beyond emotion

Lately I've been waking in the middle of the night filled with anxiety and worry.  My body is tired, yet my brain is alert and racing through thoughts.  The last couple of nights I've even woke Todd -- only to have him calmly say,

Have you prayed about this?

Have you given it over to Jesus?

Can you let it go?

Let it go?  How in the world does one let go of something that wakes them from slumber?  Yet, deep down, I know that I am desperately clinging onto my worry.  Somehow I've equated a good worry with getting God's attention -- see God?  It's really bothering me so please notice -- those were my thoughts.  So I wake up.  And fret.

And sin.

You see, when I allowed my brain to cycle through worry I wasn't living in faith.  I was living in the ideas and emotions of this world.  God goes beyond emotions.  The world tells me to fear.  Or that I'm a failure.  Or that it will never work out.  And that creates anxiety.  And worry.  Yet, the Lord, in His Word, says,

Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear....  (Matthew 6:25a)

The Scripture doesn't say that it's okay to worry 15 minutes and let it go.  Or if  you worry enough then the Lord will see that you need help.  No.  It simply says do not worry.  So when I wake up and cling to my worry then I am not being obedient to Him, my gracious God. My God who goes way beyond the worldly emotion that so often dictates my attitude and mood. He is solid, unchanging, truth.

But it's hard.  It's challenging when all that we currently know is of this world.  I would tell my husband that there was no way I could stop worrying---what if things fell apart?  Yet, he calmly and confidently told me to give it to Jesus.

So I did.

And the next thing I knew it was 5:30 am and sweet Samuel was softly crying in his crib waiting to nurse.

And Jesus said, Peace be with you. (John 20:20)