I don’t want to be the one at the table crying about my hard, hard day. I want to be the one listening to you talk about yours and pouring you another cup of tea.
I don’t want to be the one lying on my bed and wondering how I can get up and make another meal. I want to be like my honoured blog friends who are fostering, opening their hearts to more instead of trying to get by with less.
I’d like to be the one telling you what worked well for me, not the one trying out yet another medication and choking down natural products to help my mental health every morning. I used to be that healthy one, not the one focused on every slight change my body makes as a doctor tries to help me get just the right cocktail of medication.
I don’t want to be naval gazing. I want to be world changing.
I don’t want to be the one walking through deep waters. Can’t I be the one running on solid ground for a change?
Jesus, you know I long to be wiser and kinder and more humble. You know how I heard this morning that every breakdown can be a breakthrough.
I pray that somehow You’d use this mess for something good.
I write about my struggle because it’s so real and it dogs my steps. I write because you are understanding. I write because putting things into words helps me to leave them there and move on.
As you can probably see by my frequent posting on facebook and instagram and even here on this blog, I’ve had some very good weeks of stability. I think I’m in for long weeks of good days and then I fall back. But I’m SO grateful for the good days and how they seem to be outnumbering the bad lately.
I washed all our bedding the other day and hung it on the line to dry. And oh….those crisp sheets have never felt and smelled so good! This may not seem like a big accomplishment to you, but if you had known how many hours I spent on our bed and how long it had been since it had been washed, you’d be celebrating too.
Dan and I had a long talk about social media the other night. He wonders why we love it like we do and if it’s healthy to be so connected. I told him about how I felt as an isolated northern mom when I first got facebook and started writing. I remember writing about the dog being in the flowerbed. I tried to write about it in a way that would make people want to read it. And they did! They laughed at my story. They told the stories of their own dogs in flowerbeds and how mad it made them. I felt understood. And for once I had found a place to put all the thoughts that swirled around in my head that felt like they were meant for more than just a journal entry.
But I worry about the things Dan does too. Do I really need to track the progress of my friend in Virginia’s sweet, chubby baby? I only met her once.
The daughter of our fellow missionaries in Belize goes to Italy. Do I really need to be there poring over pictures of her amazing trip and feeling like life in BayTree, Alberta is preeetty boring?
Do our children need to follow every move of their favorite band?
I go through stages where I feel like my social media use is healthy and other times when I know it’s not. When I’ve been at my lowest mentally, I could hardly look at it, so feeling like using it again seems like so much fun.
How do you use it for a tool but not a weight in your life?
I do like it for how it helps me to know even my neighbors and church friends in a different way. I love how it connects me more to my family far away. And the honestly close friends that I’d never know if it hadn’t been for blogging and facebook.
But yeah. All good things in moderation.
I need to get going on this day. It’s the first official day of vacation and everyone is still sleeping at 9 a.m.
If you are on facebook or instagram, just ignore the photos below. And excuse the poor quality of some of them.
A happy May day to you!