A million little pieces

I was washing my face, brushing my teeth and doing the general night-time routine before I collapsed into bed. I was VERY DONE with this particular day and was no longer interested in mothering, refereeing, cleaning, or being upright for that matter; I needed sleep in a bad way! As is often the case, my shadow (aka Madelyn) was in the bathroom with me and I remember thinking she was not her normal self; quieter than usual. Normally there are rapid fire questions ranging anywhere from “Where is God really?” to “Why do you put your toothbrush there?” Not this night, she hadn’t said much until I turned off the light and attempted to usher her to HER OWN bed (lets just say her new horse sheets & quilt set that I recently bought hadn’t yielded the results I was hoping for! grrr).

Madelyn: “Mom, I just feel like I’m gunna cry and I don’t know why”

Me: “Cry? Did something happen?”

Madelyn: “I don’t know. I feel like my crying-ness is coming up inside of me and I don’t know why”

Her bottom lip was quivering, her voice cracking.

Immediately I put my ‘I’m done mothering today’ plans on hold, realizing there was an important moment that needed my attention. (Note to new Moms: these moments always happen when your too tired, had other plans, are depleted of energy and patience, and/or its very much past bedtime. Only then.)

I was so proud of her words that were so well stated for a just turned 6 year old. And yet I was concerned about what was instigating this “crying-ness” that was coming up inside of her **oh be still my beating heart!**

I brought Madelyn up into my bed (again, NOT what I had planned for the evening; wishing I had not spent the money on horse sheets after all) and held her tight.

Real tight. Tight enough to be sure that if she needed to cry, I’d catch every tear.

I ran through the list of things that were potentially at the root of this. She denied every one of my suggestions. She wasn’t particularly missing her Papi (Dad), her brother’s hadn’t said anything that had hurt her feelings, she wasn’t getting nervous about school (yet…); nothing.

So we just snuggled-it-out together. Wrapped up like a burrito in my arms, safe from whatever was burdening her…suddenly she was snoring and all was well again in her soul.

 

As I laid there, listening to the rhythm of her breathing, I was reminded of a ceramic bird I had bought many years ago while going through my divorce. It spoke about those moments in life when we feel like the warning label on an aerosol bottle, “Caution: contents under pressure”. A time in my life when I could literally feel myself coming undone. Cracking in places I knew I couldn’t hold together. The good news was: I didn’t have to.

As this little girl of mine, now completely in the land of nod, grows older and things become more complicated, I know she will need much more than I can ever give her in these moments…

Lord, as Madelyn goes through life, as she begins to feel the pressures of this world and her ‘crying-ness feels like it’s coming up inside of her’  ~ Father, hold her tight. Real tight. Just as you have in my life, just as this bird so perfectly reminds us…

when we’re in a million little pieces,

it is you that holds us together!

 

~He [Jesus] is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn over all creation. For by him all things were created: things in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or powers or rulers or authorities; all things were created by him and for him. He is before all things, and in him all things hold together. Colossians 1:15-17~

You are here.

The other day I ventured out to run a new-to-me trail. I had a hankerin’ for something different and this trail wasn’t too far from my home. Having had a particularly rough few days I was looking forward to the time alone; a way to mentally/emotionally tie up and double knot some loose ends. I love new things, I love trails, and I love running alone; but new trails alone are tough for me. My desire for adventure gets me through but I struggle with anxiety, the fear of getting lost and not knowing where I am. Yes I have an iPhone, yes it has apps; it’s still not enough to quench the feeling of panic. But I don’t want to let fear paralyze me, so I run through it~ with a knife!

I found my way to the trail head, began my Garmin’s satellite searching process (I’m positive it helps to hold your arm up over your head, closer to the satellite world or the clouds or any kind of tower you can find!), I checked the map once more, paced the parking lot as I talked myself into/out-of this run and prayed that all snakes would suddenly fall dead. I felt like a line from Lady A, “…couldn’t wait to get going but wasn’t quite ready to leave…”~ but my watch beeped that E.T had successfully phoned home so I hit “start” and got on my way.

As I ran and played leap frog from rock to rock, double checking every root for a head, I was reminded of the joy to be found in a new trail! The sense of adventure and the fresh new sights; it’s hard to keep track of time in moments like that. For me being in the woods is like a quick check-out from life. After awhile though I began to feel that the tree markers where becoming increasingly scarce. As in, I couldn’t remember when I had last seen one. I’ve run many trails and most of the time you have a simple paint marking on a tree as a trail guide. This particular trail had labeled tree markers, of which I was no longer seeing [insert panic]. Quickly I found myself wishing I had listened to my “other self” back at the trail head, the one full of logic and zero desire for adventure. I decided to keep on in hopes that I’d get this figured out soon. very soon.

The path was narrow, the rocks were many, and the signs long gone. 

Truth be known, this was a reasonable depiction of my life as it currently stands; not completely lost but I certainly wouldn’t bet money on my exact location.

Ever worry that you need to be found? Some confidence that your even on the map?

For about 15-20 minutes I did an embarrassing amount of self-talk as I tried to remain calm and picture the map in my mind (not to self: bring the cotton-pickin’ map next time!). Most likely I wasn’t too far off but I was going to need something to show up reasonably soon in order to prevent a total freak out moment. Thankfully, about the time I was getting to the end of my own self-regulation resources, I began to see something up ahead that felt like water in a desert:

I stood there immediately aware of the divine moment. Do you see it?

Let me do a zoom in for ya’:

‘Yes child, You Are Here’

I hugged the sign for longer than most would consider appropriate. This was far more elaborate than anything I’d ever seen on a trail, but who’s complaining?!

‘YOU ARE HERE.

See that Jill? right HERE’ 

His fingerprint once again pressing my heart. A simple picture~ that which He often uses to feed my tender and hungry spirit.

As it turns out I had accidentally taken an accessory trail (incidentally NOT on the map) that put me on unmarked private property. who knew?

Nevertheless, the trail that day gave me a moment to literally run as my life figuratively feels… a narrow and rocky path that doesn’t appear well traveled, desperate for a sign.

We might feel directionless at times but we can be confident that He knows where we are. And we ARE on the map.

It was a precious reminder of what it’s like to be one of His children;

Always found.

 

 

 

“Momma I was wondering, do you think I could do those like you do?”

 

I’ve worked on this post what feels like a million times, and I’ve put it away just as many.

Words wouldn’t fit.

Apparently it’s one of those pictures that needs to speak for itself;

to be named and left alone.

And so I’ll just do that, almost. wink.

 

A picture that speaks a thousand (silent) words;

silent but never quiet to the deepest part of a Mother’s soul.

~Jill

One word for 2013.

I’m not sure what radio station it was or who was talking,

I can’t even tell you what day it was (details….);

but the concept was good and that part stuck with me.

Can you come up with one word that you would like to define your 2013 year?

 

I thought about it for awhile and struggled to find only one word.

I have personal goals, professional goals, parenting goals, running goals,

nutritional goals, laundry goals (yes you read that right!), etc.

Seriously, one word out of all that?

 

I began to look for a thread, something that was intertwining all areas of my life.

Many ideas came to mind but there was an issue with all of them;

I don’t know if I can always manufacture determination, focus, or driven.

And when it comes to the laundry situation, I just flat out wanna jump a cliff!

 

But eventually it came to me: Intentional

In every aspect of life I can choose to respond, to think it through, to make a good choice.

It requires living intentionally.

I can be intentional about my time management, my discipline strategy (or my need for one),

my miles/speed, and protein.

I can be intentional about sleep, the words that come out of my mouth (or shouldn’t),

and the scary situation in my laundry room.

Some days I may need to readjust the expectations, but that too can be an issue of living intentionally 

(because I stopped and realistically assessed the bigger picture!).

 

So there it is folks, my one word!

It gives me something to work towards and yet some flexibility

for this crazy schedule we keep around here.

Happy New Year, 2013…I think I’ll go ahead and give this concept a try…

For today when I pass by the laundry room, yes I’ll be intentional~

as I look the other way!

*wink*

 

Intentional. I think this word is going to work just fine for me…