Writing and Fear

It's been a long while since I've written in the blog. I went through some down time, meaning I felt down for different reasons. I also was afraid to write...afraid I'd be too depressing. Afraid no one would really want to hear what I had to say. Afraid my writing wouldn't be good enough. I allowed fear to control me. With God's nudging and my husband, Marty's, encouragement though I've decided, at least for the moment, to get past my fear and write in the blog again.

It's odd how God will use small things to place His thoughts on our heart. I was taking items from the family room to their rightful place when I saw a spiral notebook I'd set aside months ago to use for journaling. I'd not written one word in it. I thought then about my writing, or lack thereof, as I brought the tablet to my office. As I do almost daily, I felt on my heart how I wanted to write again. I never really do anything about it though. Part of me knows that sharing what's on my heart will help me get through life and possibly help others, and yet a bigger part of me seems to stay afraid of what others will think of my writing and thoughts. I live too much in fear when it comes to sharing myself. That's probably why I have so few close friends. Even with recognizing that, I shoved the notebook into the back of my desk and walked away. When I did that, I believe I again ignored God's nudge for me to write.

After I settled back into my recliner in the family room, Marty turned the volume down on the TV and turned to me. He proceeded to say that while I was doing other things, he'd re-read what I'd previously wrote in my blog. He said that my writing and thoughts had again blessed him, adding that the way I share my heart is a gift and that God could use what I write to bless others. Marty asked that I give blogging another chance. I shared with him how God had spoke to me also and that I would try to write in the blog again tomorrow. We went back to focusing on the TV then, but I didn't sit in my chair long before I felt God tell me not to procrastinate, that tonight was a good time write. This time I listened to Him, and here I am...writing.

Because of who I am in God, there is no reason to be afraid for others to see me, whether that be in my weakness or strength. The Lord loves me, and each one of us, just as we are and He doesn't want any of us to live in fear.  I pray that God will continue to help me face this fear.

Thank you, Lord, for your consistency in my life. Thank you too for using Marty to help me do what you've been nudging me to do all along. Continue to help me, and any others who struggle with some kind of fear to get past the hold it has on them. Help us look to you for our courage and strength. Amen.

I already feel lighter from sharing this, and it feels good to write again.

Peggy :-)

Relax and Write or Write to Relax

It's been almost 3 weeks since I last wrote. So much for trying to do this on a daily basis, or even weekly! Life seems to get in the way of my plans at times, or at least I let it. I can't seem to make myself relax long enough to sit down and put words on piece of paper (or the screen). I do have a good excuse for not writing yesterday though....

After an unrestful night of worry, Marty and I drove 2 1/2 hours yesterday to a hospital in Bloomington, IL to see my stepdad of 30+ years, Marion. He'd been hospitalized the night before. He was dealing with a severe intestinal infection, extreme dehydration, along with complications from diabetes. It was discovered later, that he'd had a minor heart attack during all this too. When we saw Marion, he wasn't doing great by any means, but his kidney function had gone up somewhat; and by the time we left that day, his blood pressure was in the normal range without meds. His heart still pumped too hard due to damage from the heart attack so medication was needed to help with this, but I was thankful for the improvements, even though they were small. I knew also that Marion was in the right place to get the help needed to continue to get better. Thanks to the wonderful care my stepfather was given, and God's help, I felt peace when I left the hospital that evening. I was somewhat confident that Marion would be back home soon, though still needing care and possibly dialysis. We never really know how long we have with anyone, so I felt blessed too to have had the time with Marion yesterday. Though it was a stressful 24 hours, by 8:30 last night, I was back home and ready to relax. Not five minutes after slipping into my comfy pajamas though,  the phone rang. 

It was my older brother, Sonny, who called. He lives 85 miles away. He quickly let me know that he wanted me to hear from him that a man had just put a shotgun in his face (not sure who would have told me otherwise). It'd happened outside a friend's house who had called him for help. My brother went not knowing what kind of help was needed, till Wes jumped into Sonny's car and told him to get him out of there. As he started to leave, a drunk man hit my brother's car with the butt of a shotgun and then put the gun in Sonny's face.  My brother suggested that 'crazy guy' let him drive Wes out of there (it was Wes who this man had an issue with). Curse words spilled out in response, so my brother knew to just step on the gas and leave. Unfortunately, gun shots followed them. At the end of our short 2 minute conversation my brother added, "The police are here and they're being shot at now, but Wes and I are in the house, so we're OK. Just didn't want you to worry. Bye." Geez...I'm glad he didn't want me to worry!!! How was I supposed to relax after that call???

It's a new day now and though my stepfather still has health issues, he's being released from critical care, meaning he's stable and able to move down the hall from ICU. I don't know how my brother was affected emotionally, but he was not hurt physically last night. The crazed man that stuck the gun in Sonny's face is now in jail. Things could have been much worse for Marion and Sonny, but they're both doing OK today. I'm thankful for God's mercies. And with writing about my day yesterday, I feel myself finally relax. Writing is good for me...why do I let life get in the way of it? :-)

Writing

Blogging is new to me so I'm not sure what I'm doing, but I'm going to try and share my thoughts.

My best bud, Karen, who helped me setup this page is planning to tell friends that my blog is out there for viewing. I'm not sure who would want to read what I have to write, but by Karen being my personal advertising campaign, it forces me to actually blog something. I guess I've been rattling on too much about how I want to write again, so she's trying to help me accomplish that goal...maybe even make me accountable to my so-called desires; though what's wrong with whining about something you want to do without ever really applying yourself to doing it??? I mean I have a number of excuses I can come up with for not putting my fingers on a keyboard or picking up a pen. Fibromyalgia is a big one. I deal with pain a lot, I'm always tired, and my head waffles in and out of this dense fog that affects my focus and memory, among other things. It's appropriately named fibro fog. When those excuses aren't enough, I can come up with more, like being busy. There's all kinds of things that fill up my day...eating, checking my email, washing dishes, letting the dogs out, retrieving the postal mail, and looking out the window to see if weather. com has predicted the correct weather for my area. The list is really endless!

OK...as you probably already know, most of those excuses are just excuses and not great reasons for putting off the writing that is in my heart to do. The real truth is, I have trouble sharing myself with others or even putting my thoughts onto a page that may not even be read. I'm an introvert at heart and grew up with trust issues, and then when my Mom died a few years ago, I dug myself into a deeper hole...it's how I survived. This last year, I've been trying to force myself out of my safety zone but it's still a scary place for me; and more often than not, I want to run back into my hole and hide. It's even scarier to put my inner self onto a written page. Writing this blog is a way to step outside myself; or as my husband, Marty, described it today, I'm stepping into a snowy pit of lions and facing my fear...the fear of being hurt, the fear of failure, the fear of facing the difficult losses in my life that seem too hard to bear, the fear of me not being enough in some way...the fear of fear.

So bear with me as I write, or don't write. It's a process that God, my husband, my family, and good friends like Karen are helping me through.

Fibro

I was laughing with my husband, Marty, last night about my memory issues, telling him he didn't know the hell I lived in...the hell of how my brain functions--or lack thereof. I told him that I should write a book about it. He said the reason there's no books out about that subject now is because others with fibromyalgia have the same problem as I do...they think about what they're going to do, and then before they can grab a pen or get to the computer, they forget their plan and have moved on to their next mindless thought. He knows me so well! :-)