On turning 40...

Forty isn't old, if you're a tree-anonymous 

Today I turn 40, the big 4-0.  I'd love to impress you with all the cool things I did to usher in a new decade, but I spent the last day of my 30s pretty uneventfully.  I cleaned some things around the house, did some laundry, got myself a coffee on my way into work, and spent the afternoon and evening at work-with people MUCH older than 40.   Suddenly, 40 didn't seem so old after all.  Ahhh, perspective.     After work, I came home and said "goodbye" to my 30s.    I thought about some things.  I thought about a lot of things.  

I clearly remember when I was about to turn 30.  That was a hard birthday.  I knew I was supposed to really be a grown up and have my act together at 30, but I wasn't even anywhere close to having much of anything together.   I thought, well maybe I'd have it figured out when I hit 40.  Now I'm 40 and the more I learn the less I feel I really know.   

But that's OK.  At 40 I'm not thinking about how I'm going to figure things out anymore.  I don't need to.  Figuring things out isn't really working for me.  Trusting and believing and staying true to the One who knit me together,  planned out every one of my days, and wrote them in a book before I was even born-that's where I need to keep my focus. (Psalm 139:13-16)  Even when I don't understand, I just need to keep walking-walking ahead, walking through the pain in the night and walking in the joy that comes in the morning, walking through "goodbyes", walking through endings, walking through new beginnings, walking in the wind and rain and sunshine and warm breezes alike, walking the course that has been set before me, and following the examples of those who are faithful in their walk and those who have been faithful and have finished their course.   Just walking faithfully in His plan for my life, no matter what lies ahead.

I am blessed to have others that link their arms with mine and choose to walk with me.   God has made us and fashioned us for relationships, with Himself and with each other.   I'm grateful for those I call friends(family included).   One of my heart-sister friends introduced me, some time ago, to Patty Griffin (one of my favorite artists)  She has this song called 10 million miles, that I love love love.  
"I must've walked 10 million miles" and I'm sure I have at least as many miles left to walk.   And so even when I don't understand my path I must keep walking.   When the clouds are blocking the light and I don't know which way this path is leading, when I can only see directly in front of me,  I must keep walking.   My friends, let us walk on in the path that is set before us.  Let's  not veer off, even if another way  looks better, even if the path we are on is suddenly looking pretty scary, even if we lose people along the way,  even if our path is rough and we see  pain up ahead, let us stay the course.   Because we know that He works ALL things out for our good when we love Him and are called according to His purpose (Romans 8:28) Even when we may feel alone,  let's remember that  He has promised to never leave or forsake us (Hebrews 13:5).  
At 40 years old I am so grateful that I have never walked a single mile alone.  Thank you to all my friends who have walked with me.  I "search for your sweet face" as I walk, for encouragement to keep on keepin' on.  

And friends, if I should  start to repeat to you the same story I told you yesterday, or start discussing my popping knee joint and sore back, or worse yet, continuously discuss how often my bowels move, all I can say is I'm 40 and walking 10 million miles takes its toll.

Thanks for reading.

The Search for Change

Because we are the Body of the Wounded Healer and we are the people who believe the impossible— that wounds can be openings to the beauty in us.  We’re the people who say: there’s no shame saying that your heart and head are broken because there’s a Doctor in the house. It’s the wisest and the bravest who cry for help when lost.  There’s no stigma in saying you’re sick because there’s a wounded Healer who uses nails to buy freedom and crosses to resurrect hope and medicine to make miracles.  There’s no guilt in mental illness because depression is a kind of cancer that attacks the mind. You don’t shame cancer, you treat cancer. You don’t treat those with hurting insides as less than. You get them the most treatment.-Ann Voskamp


May is Mental Health Awareness Month.   Can I get WOO HOO?  Yea, not so much, right?   Who wants to bring to attention those ugly things that attack our minds?   Too often we turn away from people, and sometimes even ourselves, who are plagued with mental illness.  We would never say to a man with a broken leg, "Hey, you.  I want you to run" and then criticize him because he didn't  run fast enough, balanced enough, or well enough.  And yet we say to others whose minds are just as broken, "Hey, don't feel that way" or "just count your blessings" or worse yet "You are a Christian, you're not supposed to be this way."    Oh, I think we mean well, we just don't necessarily want to get our hands dirty.  I'm certainly not suggesting that everyone get involved in helping people who suffer with mental illness.   Not everyone is cut out for that.  What I am suggesting is that we, as a society, and especially as those who are believers in Christ, stop drawing our own conclusions and sitting in judgement of things we just don't understand.   And maybe extend a little grace and kindness to those who are suffering, rather than more blame and shame on them for a condition they can't control.

On my way home from a Dr. appointment, in utter frustration, I called my sister.  I cried and yelled and told her how it wasn't fair, how I didn't want to take medicine my whole life long because I couldn't control my mind.  I told her I don't mind taking medicine for my stomach, because that's physical, but this...this is because I'm crazy?!   Why can't I just be better, just make myself not go up and down like a yo-yo,  Just not have panic attacks,  just go places and live my life without this constant inner turmoil and struggle to live??   Everyone's going to see that I'm different.  They are going to say it's all my fault that I'm like this"   And She, being her, said "SO WHAT!  They don't know you, it doesn't matter what they think.  And just because you can't see it doesn't mean it's not broken."    Yes.  She's right.    Just because we can't see it, doesn't mean it's not broken.

Some days are hard and I wish I were anyone but me.  I wish I were strong and brave and free.  I down right wish myself away and pray for a better girl, a better wife, a better friend, and a better mother to come in and take my place.   I wrote this down one day when I was searching for change, desperate to rid myself of some of the yuck-that is me.   Instead, I found a grace large enough to cover all of who I am.   I believe in a God who heals, and I believe in a God who covers us with grace while He does the healing in His time.  And in the meantime...His grace is sufficient for me and His strength is made perfect in my weakness, so I'm going to fly my freak flag high and proud about my weakness, because it's then that His power rests on me. (2 Corinthians 12:9-paraphrased-pretty sure 'flying my freak flag' isn't in any version...yet).  Let us be aware of those who are buckling under the weight of a broken mind, and offer them the One who heals our wounds with His own. 

The Search for Change

I went and stood outside in the sun
Hoping to quench the darkness
Hoping its rays would warm the chill
I stood there awhile
But the darkness was too deep
The chill was too cold
I stood in the sun unchanged

I went and stood outside in the wind
Hoping to rid myself of the gnawing guilt
Hoping its gale would blow away my failings
I stood there awhile
But the guilt was too heavy
My failings too many
I stood in the wind unchanged

I went and stood outside in the rain
Hoping to drowned  the shame
Hoping the downpour would wash away who I am
I stood there awhile
But the torrent wasn't enough to loosen the grip
Shame had attached itself too tightly
I stood in the rain unchanged

I went and stood under a tree on a hill
Hoping it would illuminate the darkness
Hoping it would take away the guilt and shame
I stood there awhile
Grace poured down and saturated the darkness, guilt and shame
Grace that was brighter, stronger and heavier than all I had become
I stood at the cross forever changed.

Thanks for reading.

In that moment

Forever is composed of nows.-Emily Dickinson

Hello there.

I realize that it has been a looooong time since my last blog post.  I apologize to  my faithful followers (all 13 of you).  I'm sure you have been thankful missing these brilliant posts of mine ;)   I'd like to say that I was much too busy climbing mountains, sailing the high seas, or finding a cure for cancer to blog, but truthfully I have been busy adjusting.  Adjusting.  yep.  That's it.  Unimpressed? Yea, me too, but that's the truth.   I won't bore you with the details of how my life has changed this last year.  I will, however, share with you something I've learned.

I work, part time,  as a nurse's aid in a nursing home.  The people I care for are in advanced stage dementia.  Dementia includes Alzheimers as well as several other diseases that cause the brain to  literally stop functioning.  It is a terrible thing to watch a person slowly lose their ability to do a simple task such as washing their face.    You watch and care for them as they go from semi-independent to completely dependent and then you watch and care for them as they die.    I've worked at this place for a little less than a year, and we've had 13 deaths.  It's heartbreaking.

These are men and women you don't see out in society.  These are men and women who in a values clarification class would be thrown off the lifeboat.    These are men and women spending their last days here on earth forgetting all they have ever known.   And yet, these are men and women of great value.  They have purpose.  They are great teachers.    If you look beyond the surface of their weaknesses,  you can see that in them lies a treasure.

When I first began working with this people group, I was very discouraged.  I was wondering how I could possibly make any lasting difference in their lives when I knew that they would probably not even remember my name the next time I came into work.  I thought what a defeating job this is.  What does anything I do with them even matter if they will never remember anything.    I remember praying and asking what the purpose of this could possibly be.  When everything you build with these people is torn down within minutes, what good could I ever be to this people group?

That day, the day I asked that question, I received an answer.  For that moment.  That was the answer.  For that moment.  And what I had to do was change the way I viewed the work I was doing-and life I was living.   Maybe I wasn't building relationships that would be remembered for days or even hours, but I was giving love and care for that moment.   And for those who suffer with dementia, that moment is all they have.    And so when I grab the hand of a sweet elder and look into their eyes as they are  babbling nonsensically and I nod my head and say "Ok, that sounds good" or some other various form of a response,  in that moment that elder knows that they are important enough to be heard, they are seen and worth paying attention to, and they are valuable enough to be loved.  Maybe in 10 minutes they will not remember what happened, but in each moment spent listening, caring, loving I can share the love of Christ.  

Some remember me.  Some remember my face, but not my name.   Some think I'm somebody else and they are so glad to see me when I come, because they've been waiting for me for a long time.   It doesn't matter to me anymore what they remember, or who they think I am,  because when I'm with them we live together only in that moment.  And if in that moment I can help them feel important, valued and loved just for who they are in that moment,  then that counts.

I have been learning, as I continue to work with these sweet elders, that sometimes, well LOTS of times, I try look too far ahead.  I wonder what the lasting impact of each day will be.  I attempt to live for the future.  In that, lots of times I miss what's happening in that moment.  I can't hear the laughter of my children, because I'm too busy worrying about preparing them for their future.  I can't  smell the spring blossoms in the air because I'm too busy thinking about work I need to get to.  I miss opportunities to show my children that I love and value them for who they are right now in this moment, when I'm too focused on preparing them for the future.  I miss the blessing of God's gift of spring smells and songs from the birds when I'm focused on getting on with my day.

I have learned that love given and love received counts, even if it is only remembered in that moment.   I have learned that laughter is indeed good medicine and a good sense of humor is essential when working with this group of people.  I have learned that gifts from God come in the strangest of packages.  The gift of learning to stop and live in this moment has come to me in a package of worn out bodies and wrinkled faces.  It has come to me in laughter and singing from a woman who, while she can't feed herself, she can still teach me that love happens in that moment that I stop to receive it.   When a hand worn by time reaches out to grab mine, I receive that gift.  When the arms of one who has carried nine babies and lived a full life reach out to hug me, I receive that gift.   The gift of the now is continually presented to me every time I walk through those doors.  Now is all they have, and really isn't it also all we have?   All this I have learned from these elders.

AT work this afternoon we had a Mother's Day Tea Party.  Some family members of the elders joined us as we celebrated life with tea and sweets.   Some family members brought pictures of their mothers that were taken years ago, in a different time.  Before time had worn out their bodies and this wretched disease had stolen their minds.  These people I care for were once young and strong. Some were lawyers, judges, nurses, teachers, mothers, fathers.  They were all people of purpose.  While they are no longer young and their bodies no longer strong,  they are still people of purpose.  Because until we take our last breath here on this earth, we all still have purpose.  And our purpose is fulfilled one moment at a time.  

Yes, Emily, forever is composed of nows.  I am thankful that these elders are teaching me just how to live in that moment.

Thanks for reading.

Butterflies: lessons I've learned from my own backyard

We delight in the beauty of the butterfly, but rarely admit the changes it has gone through to achieve that beauty.  ~Author Unknown

Every summer my children and I raise Monarch caterpillars.  We've done it for several years now, and we have learned a lot about the life cycle of a butterfly.

This year in particular, I've learned some things about my own life by watching my caterpillars.

When a Monarch caterpillar emerges from an egg, it begins to eat right away.  The butterfly lays her eggs on the Milkweed plant to ensure her babies will have what they need (the creamy white spots on the leaves in this picture are monarch eggs).

The caterpillar then begins to eat and eat and eat.  In fact, that's all it does.  Until it's time for growth.  A Monarch caterpillar goes through 5 instar stages of growth before spinning a chrysalis.  With each stage the caterpillar will go off the milkweed and find a place on its own.  It may not eat for a day or two while it wiggles out of its previous skin and waits for its new skin to harden and mold itself to the caterpillar.

 (That little black pile is the caterpillar's previous skin)

The caterpillar's appearance changes dramatically in those 5 instar stages.

from so tiny you can barely see it-1st instar stage.(bottom right)

To big fat and full of color-5th instar stage














The thing I found most interesting is that after each molt, they don't simply leave their old skin behind.  They eat it.  Yup.  EAT it.  Their skin contains protein that aids them in growing stronger.

I thought about that.   I wondered then if I too might become stronger if I "ate" that skin I've grown out of, instead of trying to crawl away from it and never think about it again.  With every heartbreak, loss and broken place in our lives,  comes a chance to take those very hard, empty, broken things  and allow God to use them  to strengthen us.

 If I believe in the redeeming quality of God (and I do) I have to then believe that He will use every thing I go through-no matter how difficult- to change me, to help me become stronger.

On this journey to complete metamorphosis, there are going to be times when I have to grow, and change, and wiggle out of the person I was and wait for my new "skin" to mold itself to me and harden.  Those times are seldom easy and never comfortable.  And after the process is done, I need a little recovery time while I wait and become molded into the new stage of my life.  But once I've adjusted I go on, stronger than before and continue to feed on His Word and continue to grow.  And if I turn around and "eat" that old skin, it becomes a part of me.  But now instead of being a weakness, it is making me stronger.   Yes, that skin no longer fits me, but it is still a part of who I am.   God uses it for His glory and my certain good.

Once a caterpillar has reached its last days in the final instar stage, it climbs up to a safe place and makes a chrysalis.  It stays still inside for 10-14 days.

While inside the caterpillar changes completely.  As it gets closer to the time it will emerge, you can see right through the chrysalis at what's inside.

Once the work is complete, the monarch emerges looking completely different than when he began his life journey.

 (This one is male-you can tell because he has two black dots on his wings)

When we release the monarchs every year and I watch them fly away into the purpose for which they were created,  I can't help but smile.  I feel so grateful that I was able to be with them through each and every stage of their lives.   I love to watch them grow and change through every stage.  And I love most of all when the day comes and I set them free.

I wonder if God smiles as He watches us fly into the life that He has designed for us.  I believe He does.

Whether we are in our "instar" growing stages or our "chrysalis" waiting period or our "emerging adult" stage flying in our God given purpose, God is ever working to change us to become more like Him.  And while each stage brings with it challenges and difficulties, we rejoice in knowing that He makes all those things work out for our good.

 He is so good.  All the time.

Thanks for reading.

*all photos in this post were taken from my home.  They are all of Monarchs that my children and I have raised.  Most are from this season, but a few are from past years.

Although dead, she is still speaking...

It was by faith that Abel brought a more acceptable offering to God than Cain did. Abel's offering gave evidence that he was a righteous man, and God showed his approval of his gifts. Although Abel is long dead, he still speaks to us by his example of faith-Hebrews 11:4


Two years ago I said 'Goodbye" to an incredible woman of faith.  Mama Paula was an exemplary example of faith even in midst of tremendous pain and suffering.  Her faith in the sovereign plan of God never wavered, no matter what circumstances she found herself in.  I remember her saying so often "I don't know what the Lord's doing, but He's doing something, and He is good."   She had faith that God was in control, no matter what, and she intended to praise Him with her whole heart.  

 She  battled cancer with such grace and faith.  She was so full of the love of Christ, that many times when she was in the hospital she would pray for others.  Even in the midst of tremendous pain in her body, she was more concerned for those around her.  Everywhere she went she shared the love of Jesus.  Always. 

She opened her heart and home to me, and asked for nothing in return.  When she first met me, I had nothing to offer.  I was a hot mess with a side of crazy.  She brought me in and loved me through all the messiness that was my life.   She was a caring, practical, and often times just plain silly woman, whose unwavering faith in God continues to be an example to the many of us she left behind.  She loved with her whole heart right up until the time she took her last breath.   She was my friend, my sister in Christ, my Mama and I miss her more than I could ever put into words.


She's been gone two years this Wednesday, and I feel like the whole planet should just stop moving for just a minute and remember her time on earth.  She was so special, not just to me, but to so many.  She influenced the lives of many people by loving them, and praying with them and bringing them to Jesus.   I know that although she is no longer with us here on earth, the words she spoke, the way she loved and her example of faith lives on in the lives of those of us who knew her.

This week I intend to honor her memory by doing some of the things that she taught me. I'm going to eat Malt-O Meal for breakfast (she used to make it for me when I lived with her).  I am going to believe in faith for an answer to prayer that I have not seen happen yet.  I'm going to show the love of Jesus to others.  I'm going to get down on the floor and be silly with my kids.   I'm going to read my children the book she gave me called "Just in Case You Ever Wonder" by Max Lucado.   I'm going to praise God no matter how I feel, because-just like she told me so many times-He is good and worthy to be praised.  I'm going to be thankful for the time I had her in my life, and I'm going to give thanks to Jesus that He made a way so I can see her again one day.  


A good character is the best tombstone. Those who loved you and were helped by you will remember you when forget-me-nots have withered. Carve your name on hearts, not on marble.-Charles Spurgeon

Yes, Mama Paula, you have carved your name on many hearts.   We all are better for it, and we will never forget what you've taught us.


I love you Mama Paula.  For ever and for always.  


This is a photo Cricket, Mama Paula, and I at a New Year's party in 2009.   

Thanks for reading.

What a mighty good man...

"I know that ain't nobody perfect, I give props to those who deserve it, 
And believe me y'all he's worth it. 
So here's to the future 'cause we got through the past, 
I finally found somebody who can make me laugh. (ha ha ha) 
You so crazy...i think I wanna have yo baby

Whatta man, whatta man, whatta man, whatta mighty good man!"-Whatta Man

Today I just want to give a shout out to my hubby who has really "taken the reins" in the cooking/kid caring for department since I started this whole working part-time 3rd shift madness.  He's endured limited clean laundry, an unbelievable unorganized house in major disarray,  and extra crazy wife (and really, there's enough crazy when I'm NOT working 3rds, let alone screwing up my sleep schedule).  

Today this old song came to mind.  It came out in the early 90s by groups Salt 'n' Pepa and En Vogue.  I actually loved both groups as a teen/young adult(what?  Don't judge me ok?).   Much of the lyrics are... lets just say less than wholesome,  but that "Whatta man whatta man whatta man whatta mighty good man" chorus is one that stays stuck in your head for days.  In fact, I'll bet if any of you reading this post remember this song, you're singing now aren't ya??  

Yea, that's what I thought.  

Knowing I have limited dietary choices due to a chronic stomach condition,  Hubby has made sure that I have plenty of protein drinks and mashed potatoes available for me to take to work.  He has also made sure my coffee supply is amply stocked and that I always have a Coke Zero to take to work- all things that would fall by the wayside.  Although I try to keep up on my days off, the kids' activities and other duties keep me busy and I find when I finally have a minute to breath, I'm just too dang unmotivated to get to that laundry and cooking too.  Hubby  has been grilling and smoking meat this summer and the kids are LOVIN' dad's cooking.

He's made sure that the kids are having fun too.  Even though we aren't going away on vacation anywhere this summer, he's making sure to pack in their days with extra stuff.  He's taken them 4-wheeling and for ice cream lots this summer.  And of course he put up (and keeps up on) the pool in the backyard for them.  Yea, he's the fun parent for sure.  

I'm not always a barrel of fun.  I have lots of days where I just can't bring myself to do much of anything-let alone fun stuff.  Anxiety definitely gets the best me more often than not.  Hubby stands by me through the worst panic attacks and deepest depression and celebrates the good days we have together.   Hubby doesn't lecture me on how I should be better.  He doesn't make me feel like a loser- he knows I'm already hard enough on myself.  He doesn't offer lame platitudes like "cheer up, it's not so bad" or "just be thankful" or any of those other sayings that make someone suffering from anxiety/depression feel more worthless.  He doesn't try to "fix" me either-I think he knows that's an impossible task.  He just lets me be. 

 He's not perfect-no one is.  But he's a mighty good man.  And I'm thankful that God has given him to me to walk out this life together.  

So this verse goes out to you babe.  In my best black-girl voice I'm singing this for you today...

Spends quality time with his kids when he can. 

secure in his manhood 'cause he's a real man.

 a lover, and a fighter, and he'll knock another out. 

Don't take him for a sucka, 'cause it's not what he's about. 

Everytime I need him, he always got my back.

 Never dis- respectful, 'cause his momma taught him that. 

I gotta good man

Whatta man, whatta man, whatta man, whatta mighty good man!"-Whatta Man

Thanks for reading

High Anxiety

A crust eaten in peace is better than a banquet partaken in anxiety.-Aesop

I am going to be completely honest with you all.  Transparent, raw and no holds barred kind of honest.  I'm going to talk a bit about anxiety today.  My hope is that by being honest and open about my own struggles, someone may stumble across this blog post and know they are not alone, and that it may give more understanding to those who know someone who struggles with anxiety.  

Because too often there is a stigma that goes along with those suffering from mental disorders-especially within the christian community.   They feel alone and isolated, often not wanting to share their struggle with anyone for fear of being thought of as "crazy" and a "bad christian".  

This is for you who suffer from anxiety and those who know you.  We are not crazy, just broken.  And I have to believe that Jesus died to heal all of our brokenness.  Sometimes it's nothing more than deciding that you are worth the time and effort it takes to get better.  Never give up.  There is hope.  Here is only a piece of my own struggle...

Anxiety.  It is a wicked taskmaster.  It is one that demands complete and utter control of your mind and leaves you, at the end of each day, empty and useless.  It wants you to fix problems that are impossible to fix, keep everyone and everything safe from unseen danger, and tells you at the end of it all that you have failed miserably and surely there will be consequences for your failure.  It is the beginning and end of a cycle of fear/trying to fight the fear/being overcome by fear/depression/then back to fear.  

Those of you who know me know that I have spent the majority of my years living with varying degrees of anxiety.  Sometimes it's manageable, mild enough to get by with minimal repercussions.  In times like these most people would have no idea that I am a slave to anxiety.  Other times it is so debilitating that I can not function, I avoid all that is possible for me to avoid and my mind races at a hundred miles per minute.  It leaves me, at the end of the day, swallowing a pill to ease my mind and wondering if life is  worth living at all.  And so the cycle continues.  It steals all joy, all purpose, and all energy leaving me depleted and defeated.  

I have been diagnosed with an anxiety disorder (DUH thank you Captain Obvious).    There is a difference in being anxious for a season or about some specific things and living in a state of constant, continual anxiety.    To be honest, I almost can't remember a time when I wasn't ruled by anxiety-it's been so long ago.  I can't really remember when I have had "fun" doing things.  I am happy and satisfied when I am with my family doing "fun" activities, but anxiety steals the "fun" right out of your life.  Instead of enjoying the moment, you worry about what is going to happen, what danger lies around every turn, if everyone else is having a good time, what more you could do to make the day better and on and on it goes.  I try to turn my thoughts around, but it's like anxiety is so strong it just takes over my mind and physical body as well.  It defies all logic and reasoning.  It's like being in a constant state of "fight or flight" and it is exhausting.  


I do my very best to hide my anxiety and try to appear "normal".   I smile appropriately, laugh, joke and do my best to engage in whatever activity is taking place. Then come the panic attacks, when  my body can take the anxiety no longer and it literally "freaks out".  It becomes difficult to hide my anxiety when I am hyperventilating and my heart is racing, and my body is shaking, and I can't breath.  Yea, it is NOT a pretty picture.  It is rather embarrassing unless I can find a place to hide until it passes.  I find it hard to explain to people who find me in such a state.  


Then comes the condemnation.  You wonder what in the world is wrong with you that you can not seem to handle what everyone else in the world handles with no problem.  You are a believer in Christ, for goodness sake, you certainly should NOT be overtaken by fear.  What kind of a christian are you anyway, what a poor example you are setting, what a terrible representative of Christ you are... 


 So feeling like the biggest disappointment in the entire christian community, I set off to make myself better.  I read books, I "do things afraid" (they say that makes it better-it doesn't) I print off scripture, I sing songs, I declare positive scriptures, I bind, I loose,  I pray, I cry, I ask for help, I try pill after pill after pill, and sometimes one or more of these things will help for a time and I will have a bit of hope.  Then, at the first sign of little sleep or life stress it all falls apart again.   I simply survive.  


I know God works miracles in the lives of people.  I've seen it.  I also know that sometimes He heals things piece by piece, one area at a time. As much as I'd love a miracle of complete turn around in an instant, that has not been how God has dealt with me.   My life has been quite the mess, and He has healed lots of places in my broken heart, little by little.   And I am so thankful for that.  There are still many more, I'm realizing.  And in my effort to put band aids on some of these areas, I have not dealt with the heart of the matter.  But I have to believe that God's timing is perfect and He knows what things to deal with and what things need more time.  


What I know today is that I have become weary of living my life under Anxiety's rule.  It is not a good ruler.  I also know that it may be time to get down to the heart of the matter on some things that cause me to fall under Anxiety's rule instead of the rule of  the Creator of my soul.  I have decided to pursue some avenues in hopes of ridding myself of this wicked taskmaster once and for all.  It is time to thrive instead of just survive.  


If you or someone you love is suffering under Anxiety's tyrant rule, know this: you are not alone.  You are loved by the creator of your soul.  Find some help.  You are worth helping.  You are not too far gone-no one is too far from the arm of the living God.  He loves you, even when you are living in a state of high anxiety.   He wants to rescue you from this evil taskmaster.  He says this in Matthew 11:28
Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.

A friend of mine shared this song on her blog.  I listened to  it and so identified with her that day.  I heard her heart and it resonated with my own.  "I want to thrive not just survive".

Here's to hope of thriving.


Thanks for reading.