Every once in a while, everything gets to be too much. The tears hang out right behind my eyes, ready to drop at any moment. My digestive track hurls itself off a cliff. I get irritable and weepy, up one moment and down the next.
Case in point: Monday night, R and I talked about Christmas Eve dinner. We ended up having an argument about whether or not to serve gravy with the meal. Gravy! That, you guys, is ridiculous.
(Although, I will go to my grave arguing that one does not serve gravy when there is ham on the table. Ever.)
I just ovulated, so I know a good portion of this is hormonal. I also know that, although I’m doing better, I get stressed when Little K visits her father. Throw in the holiday and it’s a mess.
We’re also dealing with: Okasan moving into Assisted Living today; the boys coming to visit; R having to talk to SSA about his living arrangements; R’s seasonal affective disorder; and R’s depression.
Oh, and we’re still going back and forth but will probably cycle in March? Which actually starts in February. And I’ll probably ovulate a week earlier than expected, giving us less time to put together the funds for purchasing and shipping the vials. Fun.
Not to mention the fact that R is still convinced that another child will cause him to shut down emotionally, sucking the joy out of his life and turn him into a trudging shell of a man who longs to find a dark hole to sit in until the end of his days.
(Not that THAT makes me feel like a selfish wife, dooming my marriage by suggesting we create a new life out of the love we share.)
It’s a lot.
I’m feeling a great deal of pressure right now. To be strong for Little K, setting her up to have a great Christmas with her dad. To plan and cover all of the Christmas details, so that R doesn’t have to think about it. To give the boys a good visit, but not so good that we artificially sway SSA to move back in with us. To only lift the SSA thing to the Lord in prayer, because my words are no longer kind. To prepare my heart for the possibility of SSA moving back in. To shield R from my baby crazy. To decide whether I can let go of cycling in March. To put together the funds on my own for the vials. To decide whether or not to monitor at my clinic. To understand that R is depressed, rather than expect him to be excited or involved right now. To pray that one day the man I fell in love with will come back. To find joy, please Lord give us back our joy.
And 99% of these are out of my control. So, I’ll pray and I’ll take care of myself emotionally and I’ll swallow my 5-HTP. Because God knows. He knows everything that is going on and asks only that I let be and be still; know, recognize, and understand that He is God.
Lord, You alone are God. You can see resolution, restoration, and peace in all of these things that weigh down my heart and clutter my mind. You ask only that I trust You. Help me to continually leave these burdens in Your care and to rest in the knowledge that You are in control. Lord, You are good. You will always be good. I love you. Amen.
Step out of the traffic! Take a long, loving look at Me, your High God, above politics, above everything.
Don’t fret or worry. Instead of worrying, pray. Let petitions and praises shape your worries into prayers, letting God know your concerns. Before you know it, a sense of God’s wholeness, everything coming together for good, will come and settle you down. It’s wonderful what happens when Christ displaces worry at the center of your life!