Thursday, December 18, 2014

Hope for this Pessimist

I have been reflecting a lot these last few weeks. I am doing a Bible study that has opened my eyes a bit more to who I am, who I have been. The constructive thinking it provoked has lead me to some "conclusions."

I hate to admit it but I am secretly a pessimist. I think of the negative first, I worry about so many things I can not change. I am afraid, often. I was not always like this; at least I don't think I was. The only person who would really know, who has seen me through the last 7 years on a daily basis would be Matthew. Which brings me to the point of this post...

Matthew Alan, you are the most incredible man. 

I think back on all that we have been through together.
It has been...busy. I can't help but want to say, "I'm sorry." I was a broken woman for so many of those years. I still am. Even if no one else knew it, you did. You were there daily. You loved me daily. You encouraged me that life would be okay. You heard my negative thoughts and worries (over and over again) but always challenged me to think of the brighter side. Often you reminded me that a brighter side still existed. You held me when I cried, fought with me when I needed a good argument and lived out your love for me through everything. 

We are a messy pair, you & I. Yet you should know that you are the most important & valuable person in my life. You are my strength, comfort and leader. 

You are my biggest blessing. 

Thank you for being stubborn because that same stubbornness challenged my shadows, the quiet consuming whispers. 
Thank you for always dreaming big, having hope, looking forward to the future and including me in it. Thank you for sharing in the joys. We both know who and what they are. 
Thank you for working on us in good and bad; not running away, not hiding. Thank you for sharing hurt and disappointment with me. We are stronger because of the struggle. 

7 years together, 6 years of marriage.  It feels like a lifetime and a week all at once.

I love you Matthew. 

Happy Anniversary (and a half)  to the best gift God has given me. (aka: YOU! Wink face.) 


I am finally sitting down to write. The house is quiet except for the Sam's sound machine. I am thankful that it is nap time, thankful for the cup of warm coffee next to me & thankful for the sound of my fingers hitting the computer keys.
I admit I feel guilty. It has been along time since I have written; not because I do not have things to say, but because I used "I'm busy" to justify not facing my fear & doing what I love. Yes, I am busy. Watching 3 or 4 children each day, 5 days a week, housework, laundry, teaching, playing, park time, walks, shopping, family time, food prep... we are all busy. Yet using it as an excuse to not set aside time to do this...well that is my fear in action.
If someone was to ask me what I wanted to be when I grew up, what I would do if I could do anything, I would answer, Write. However it turned out, looked like, or accomplished I would want to turn the swirling tornado of thoughts in my mind (a thought-nado, if you will) into little black symbols. Neatly arranged on a white page, in a stack for another to pick up & ponder.
The trouble with having a passion (dream) is...
Working to face the fear of failure, judgment and even success. Work, as in action, as in denying myself something now in favor of the future.
So here I sit with a computer on my lap, guiltily tapping away. Mentally charting a plan so I don't have to feel this again. Knowing I wasted 45 minutes of nap time trying to convince myself to do the work. And dreading the thought that in order to really write I have to allow my swirling thoughts to consume me, to wash away the fear of what others will think, of the guilt and let go of myself.

SO... (I don't even want to write the words)

Here goes.