Puppies

I watch my puppies playing tonight and I wonder if God sits in heaven with that much delight.  I don't have children, so I cannot successfully make that analogy, but the love I have for these little creatures... 

I watch them as they play with each other.  I watch their curiosity of new things and unexplored nooks and crannies in the house.  I see that they like to poop wherever they take a notion to and pee wherever it is they are standing when it hits them.  I come home to shoes being chewed, toilet paper having been shredded, and the puppy pad (the attempt at potty training) crinkled up in the corner.  I also come home to three tails waging, over-excited hopping around and tons of welcome home kisses.  

So I wonder if that is sort of like our relationship with God.  Does he sit at the edge of heaven, like I do the edge of my bed, and watch His children play?  Does He watch us explore new things and giggle at our curiosity?  When we daily make a mess of our lives does He get that same "what am I gonna do with them" kind of feeling?  Does He quickly forgive knowing that we just don't know any better?  And how much are we like these three little tail-waggers?  When the presence of God enters the room, how do we respond?  Do our tails wag?  Do we shower Him with kisses?

So I guess my eyes are a little more opened tonight.  Love has always been a tough subject for me, but tonight a little clearer.  How much do I love these little guys?  A whole lot.  How much MORE does God love me?

Vulnerability

Amazing and eye opening 'talk' on vulnerability....

Anxiety

I went to both services yesterday... and wouldn't you know it - barely had any anxiety.  Jesus must be working overtime on that little request.  ha!  It was nice to be able to enjoy a service - really get to listen and pay attention without having to stop and focus on my breathing.  I can't tell you how long it's been since I've been in that building without a sense of panic, chest pains and shortness of breath.  So that's a good thing.

Yesterday morning was a struggle to get out of bed though.  For months, Sunday has been my day just to sleep.  Sometimes that's all I did.  Getting up at all was a struggle.  I was late to church, but i was there.  Another hindrance for me was the fact that it was Mother's Day.  And of course... the message was about mothers, Godly mothers, the Proverbs 31 kind of mothers.  *sigh*

But Sunday night was about repentance.  And boy did I ever feel caught in the cross-hairs of that message.  He was preaching right down my isle, across my pew and stepping all over my toes.  It was actually a good feeling.  Conviction - It's kind of weird to say it this way, but I've missed feeling convicted about anything.  I've let so many things go.  I've done so many things that I thought I would never do.  It's definitely time to come home.

Mother's Day

What to say?  Mother's Day is always tough.  No, I have not lost a child - although I feel the pain of the close friends who deal with that loss so much more today than any other.  No, my mother has not passed away - although, again, I mourn with friends whose grief on this day is crippling to have lost a mother too soon.  Today, I mourn what could have been, what should have been, what simply wasn't.  I can't help but feel the pangs of jealousy, especially today, when I see whole, loving families interacting and celebrating.  It makes me sad to know that I cannot bring myself to buy anything but a humorous card for my mother... a sentimental one will just not do.

I have to stop and say at this point that I do love my mother.  It is hard, sometimes, to differentiate between who she is now and who she used to be...

Today, she is loving.  Growing up, I never heard "I love you" unless we were in public.  Today, she tries to be supportive.  Growing up, she was always working late.  Today, I have a hard time pointing to the positive because growing up there was too much negative to get through.

I don't want to get into the details.  I know I should be thankful that today, mom is such a different person, and I am.  It's just hard sometimes and especially today.  A day when we celebrate who mom is.  It's just something that I cannot do.  There is too much pain, too much back story, just ... too much.

So... happy Mother's Day.  Cherish what and who you have.

Confused...

So I have very recently started attending church again.  The place where I know I should be.  The place where I am home.  The place I feel God in a very real way.  Unfortunately, it is also the place where my family (much drama) attends.  It is also the place that causes great anxiety and panic in me.  It is the place that is strikes fear. Tonight, I found myself short of breath, horrid chest pains and sweat rolling down my back.  So my question is... why?  This is the house of God I'm talking about!  Where the Spirit of God dwells so thick it literally gives me chills.  It is in HIS presence that I feel most comfortable, accepted and loved.  Why must I go through the chest pains, cold sweats and difficulty breathing to get there?  What is so wrong with me that, if you mention church, my heart drops?

My mind raced tonight.... I couldn't stop looking at all the people crammed in that little building.  Well, not so little, but we are running over 500 and squeezing into a 350 seat auditorium.  I kept thinking about how I was trapped and would have to climb over people if I needed to get out.... where are my family... I can feel their eyeballs on me ... what are they thinking?.... what if you can see my tattoo... and my toes are painted!  I forgot I wore flip flops today ... what if they have an altar call (they didn't)... what if he says my name (he did)... what if nobody talks to me after church .... what if somebody does... what am I going to say ... what will they ask.... I'm sure they all think I'm a backslidden heathen.... and on and on it goes...

I know that FAC is home, I know that is where I'm supposed to be - that's why I went back.  But seriously?!  Must I go through this every time I walk in the doors?  It will only be worse Sunday... there will be even MORE people crammed in there.  I don't even want to think about it.  Maybe I have some claustrophobia mixed with some social anxiety?  Who knows ... I just know that if God does not see fit to help me with this... it's gonna be a long row to hoe.

*sigh*  I'll do it though.  I'll tough it out.  Like my pastor's wife said ... David feared the prospect of not praising God more than he did the lions.  So why am I going to let a little anxiety - okay, a LOT of anxiety - get in the way of praising my God?  of living my life for Him?  of cultivating a relationship with Him?