I Don't Cry Anymore

When I first started in this valley of a spiritually-mismatched marriage, I was an emotional wreck. I cried out to God, I cried out loud, I cried and cried and cried. I don't think I'd ever wept so much in my entire life as I had those first few months of this valley.

Seriously.

There are specific places I remember crying. And specific times. And many daily occurrences. I promise, I am not asking for a pity party...like I said...this was a while ago.

But, I think about it often, and I wonder what has changed, and why I don't cry anymore. Because, over the past year and a half, we've cycled in and out of our same lows.

Funny how we never really learn how to climb up and out. I mean...we have done a ton of climbing. And we've had an upward movement out of the valley (well, not necessarily away from the reason, but toward a peace in living with it) for a steady amount of time.

Although, it seems, there is always a broken pass in the near future and we tumble down and down and hit the valley floor again. Over and over. While I drag my feet in the same old treacherous trenches, my heart still aches, my soul still groans, and I feel the weight of hopelessness time and again.

Yet, my cheeks remain dry.

 I fear that my aching heart is growing callous to the trial...do I daresay that my vision of God's hand in all of this is blinded? Sometimes I go there. I do. I confess. Sometimes I just don't see Him anymore because the valley is dark.

The other day, my son came to me with a problem. It was something that I would normally feel unsettled about. I guess "normally" being two years ago. But our normal has changed. And I didn't fear or tremble at his problem.

That scared me.

That made me wonder if I've grown numb and apathetic to the hard stuff because of so much hard stuff. But there's part of me that wants to believe...maybe I've just grown up.

And mostly I want to think, God's grown bigger in my life and I've surrendered much to Him. So much so that I really do have His peace in me.

And I don't cry anymore.

A big problem met with peace might appear as apathetic, but even amidst the trials we are called to rest...we are called to Peace. It just dawned on me as I write this and flip through my Bible--how this past month I've been going through Psalm 23 and the psalm might just illustrate where I am at.

Which is crazy. Like I said, I don't know if I see Him.

But maybe He just showed up as I type...pulling together a big A-Ha as to what I might have lived through and lived out in the Psalm 23 challenge.

Wow, in this moment, I am reminded that He really is my Shepherd, no matter how blind I may be.
**I added the pictures AFTER I wrote this...just had to showcase what I've learned.:)**

Emotional Throw Up: Mama-Drama Monday

Night time is the worse.

It's when I look back and think of all the, "I can't believe you didn't listen to me!" and, "How many times have I told you to pick up your plate?", and "It's past your bedtime, stop whispering!"

Mama-guilt kicks in, and I think, "Was it really that bad? Enough for me to snap at them? Enough for me to give them that look?" (And it's an ugly look I can give, believe me. I often tap into my drama background. There have been many times when I use the mirror to see exactly what expression fit the scenario. IT's not pretty!)

The thing is, when I allow my emotions to throw up all over the petty stuff, I have tapped myself out for the big stuff that is most definitely ahead.

So when I am faced with the, "He's got some major resentment," or, "She is begging for attention," or "We might need to call a counselor"... I feel like crawling in the shadows and hanging my head in shame. It's when I regret emotional throwing up at the little stuff in the shadow of the big stuff.

Why do I allow my emotions to erupt over ridiculous little things that kids are bound to do and say, and then feel emotionally spent when I need it most--for the important, life-shaping, supermom-sized stuff? And when I spend it all on the kids...then it surely does not help me on the marriage front!

If I could step back into the Tardis...actually, any time machine would suffice, I would start a reserve of my patience, my perseverance, and my proactive reaction. Actually, I hope to start that soon. Not stepping into a time machine, but starting a reserve once more.

It's been way too long since I soaked in the Word of God, or read a really good non-fiction book. I have a journaling Bible on its way, and I just picked up Jen Hatmaker's newest, For The Love.

Honestly, without a Tardis, the only way I can ensure a reserve to fill up, is by pouring into my heart.
No matter how much I have procrastinated, or have been scared to commit, or just don't know what it might look like now, I am primed for a change. And it starts with a page...or ten...and a God who cares enough to handle the small stuff AND the big stuff.

It's Mama Drama Monday. May it be a sane one!