I’m Not Sure I Want to Be a Stump

To tell the truth is not easy, sometimes. What you want people to know. What you want people to see. What is the truth?

If I were to tell the truth right now, I’d have to say, I’m struggling.

There, I said it. It was hard for a gal like me to say something like that, but I did it.

You should know, I’m the type of person who will fight and claw and scrap and cling and control and try harder and harder and harder until I

fall

to

p-i-e-c-e-s.

Everyone has their limits. I prefer to not admit that I am struggling. For me, that is the ultimate defeat. Are you better at this than me? Can you easily say to the world that you are hurting, or struggling, or in need? Personally, I’d rather crawl under a rock. But here we are.

I do know that it doesn’t have to be this way. I do know that God is there, ready to take on the burdens that weigh me down. He already has. I should know, and I do. But I’ll still cling to my worries. I’ll still work frantically to win it on my own. I’ll still try to control everything I can. I can be better. I can DO more. I can do it better than last time. I can be stronger. I can win. Nothing can hurt me. No one can hurt me. I can do this! Look at my spreadsheet!!!

Until I can’t. Until it wins, whatever it might be, instead. And I am wounded.

My heart is broken right now for many reasons. I am trying to gather all the pieces up and repair it quickly. Before anyone notices. I know that there are so many reasons to be happy. I know I have been blessed beyond measure. But what I know and what I feel are two very different things. Have you been there?

I have an enemy and its name is fear. There are times when fear encompasses my heart, and it eats at my stomach. There is a pit there that feels like a smoldering fire. It makes my mind race and my hands shake. Who let it in? Who let it take over? I was really busy trying to control my life, trying to fix my problems, trying to maintain the unmaintainable. I no longer stood guard to care for my heart. Life can overtake you sometimes, if you let it. I have.

I have a favorite author, Susanna Foth Aughtmon. She has written some fabulous books that I have quickly passed along to my mommy friends after I was done. I know I gave this one away, too, knowing it would be a blessing to someone else. This weekend, though, my family came to visit. When they left, it appeared on my counter again.

I Blame Eve is a book that feels like it was written about me, for me. Every page, really. It can be disturbing at times that someone else out there knows me so well, but it’s also encouraging. I know by reading this book that I am not alone. There are other mamas chugging along (chugging? Eli is watching Thomas right now) attempting to control their worlds, too. They attempt to tell God what’s up and when he fits nicely into their schedules, too. They eventually fall apart, too. Just like me. One of my favorite excerpts from this book is from the chapter, “I Have Control Issues….Big Ones,” and it goes like this:

When Eve decided to take her own destiny in hand, she probably didn’t realize she would be dealing with the fallout of that decision for the rest of her life. When there is a fallout in our lives, we have two choices. We can turn to the One who has all the resources in the world to deal with the fallout, or we can go it alone. The snake is keen on us going it alone. He wants us isolated from the One who knows us inside and out. He wants us to fail miserably. If he can get us to go it alone, if he can urge us to try to heal our own hurts and bind up our own wounds using less than stellar methods, he will triumph. He likes to say things like, ‘You’ve got this. If you get the right flow chart going, you can organize your life.’ Or, ‘If you can cut out all fat in your diet for seven months, you can rule the world.’ Or, ‘If you do this exercise regimen, your life’s problems will melt away.’

His suggestions seem so wise and prudent…. The Eden gene rises up within us and convinces us that if we run our lives a certain way we will be free and we will be able to manage our own problems. 

Uhhhhh… that’s me. Exactly me. By definition, actually. And most of the time, as stated, I use less than stellar methods to work things out.

So, I’m now no longer working to fix things with my less than stellar methods. I’m letting it happen through the One who can heal. I’m praying for help and guidance. I’m eating too many M&M’s and sampling new beers. So maybe it’s a combination of God and me. Unless he enjoys M&M’s and beer, too. I’m guessing not, but I could be wrong.

Anyway, joy exists and it is not hard to find, especially if you live with kids. I bought a trampoline fully knowing it was likely that one of my kids would break a wrist or an arm or some other bone. So I jump on it, too, because some things are worth it. You should see them. We have never laughed so hard or jumped so high. I lay in a hammock as the sun sets, because it is the best background to send my prayers into. I plant tiny plants and apple trees. I look for new buds and sprouts. When my feet touch the floor next to my bed in the morning, I scan the green grass and trees below, outside my window. I listen to the birds and I make good coffee. I listen to my children sing. I ask the One who really can help me to do just that. Help me.

The other night, Sophie (9) asked me to read her The Giving Tree by Shel Silverstein. I read the book, slowly and deliberately, because it had been some time since I’d read it, too. I finished the last page with a familiar happy/sadness.

“Mom?” Sophie said as she snuggled down into her pillow more. “That tree reminds me of you.”

Her response filled me with the same familiar happy/sadness as finishing the book. At first, I was ecstatic. My heart was so full that she knew how much I’d do for her, how much I do for her.

But then I wondered later – not that I’m some kind of martyr or anything – but I think most moms would agree: Do I need to give so much that I end up a stump with nothing left to give? Is that a good thing?  Because after all, she knew that I would give her all. She knew I love her and this family fiercely and passionately. Like God loves us, as much as I can. But a stump? No branches, no leaves, no apples?

Ugh! What does it all meeeeean??

Boundaries. That’s what is rolling around in my mind right now. More to come on that later when I can actually figure out something intelligent to say about it. Or you could enlighten me about it, too. I’d love to hear your wisdom on this! Moms need moms. Ain’t that the truth? Until then, I will rely on the One who can heal me, who can lift me up, who can restore me so that I can give intelligently, I think, instead of haphazardly while falling apart in the process. I’m hoping my restoration unfolds the right way this time, for now, relying on the One who can and will redeem me (and you, too, of course)….