Wednesday, August 22, 2012

It's All Gonna be Alright

I had a whole different post for today, but I've decided to put it the side for a while. Y'all, I just need to vent. I've found that this blog has become such a theraputic tool for me. I forgot how much I love to write, and how much it helps me to clear my head.

Do you ever feel like you're going to just explode under the pressure? That's how I feel today. I feel like if I get one more email or have to add one more to-do to my list, I'm going to snap. And, trust me, you better hope you're not around when that happens.

My house is mess.  I can't vaccum or mop because of my back, and it's taking all I have not to do it. Our grass needs to be cut. The laundry needs to be put away. The dog needs to be washed. I need to figure out plans for returning to work next week.  I need to stop.

I need to breathe.
I need to count to ten.
I need to know that it's going to be okay.

My sweet husband has really been wonderful during all this.  He has vaccumed more than once. He's cleaned bathtubs and toilets. He's folded and put away laundry. He's cooked dinner and shared left-overs only meant for one.  Still, I have found myself snapping at him. He's not perfect, but neither am I.

I've had a lot of time to be with the Lord lately, and I'm glad.  I have found myself talking to him throughout the day. Silently, aloud, singing, whining, crying, yelling.  I don't hold back because He knows the desires of my heart, anyway.

So, I should not be surprised that He knows what I need and when I need it. 

I'm going to Charleston this weekend to hear Beth Moore. I'm so excited for the trip because (other than the fact that I haven't been out the house in three weeks) of the fellowship and girl time that it will bring. I'm going with my mom, and our friends, Penny and Mandy.  I pray that the Lord's message this weekend will speak directly to me heart. I already know it will.

Wednesday, August 15, 2012

Are You There God? It's Me, Heather.

Have you ever felt like the Lord is really trying to talk to you? I mean, REALLY, trying to talk to you. Like, if I were to turn the corner and a bible fell on my head, I wouldn't be surprised.

If you know me at all, then you know I'm pretty OCD about things. I want my house cleaned my way. I want my classroom set up my way. I want the bed made my way. I want the refrigerator organized my way. Are you seeing a trend here?

The G.O.D., he laughs at our plans.  Not to mock us, but to show us that His plan is so much better than ours. It's true. There have been many times that He has changed my plan only to show me that His was way cooler in the first place.  If my plan had played out, I'm pretty sure I'd be a divorced mother of three with no college degree. (My mother is nodding in agreement to this statement)  Fortunately, He knows better, and the heartarche and struggle has been worth it. (God is nodding in agreement to this statement)

Recently, I have felt that this surgery was all part of His greater plan, too. Not a plan for me to suffer, but a plan for me to learn to let go and slow down.  These past three weeks have not been easy. My husband and I have argued. My pain has been both bearable and unbearable.  My plans have been put on hold to make room for His plans. Luckily, my God is a gracious God.  His word eases my pain.

Philipians 4:4-6 
"Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near. Do not be anxious about anything but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God."

James 1:5
"If any of you lacks wisdom, you should ask your God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to you."

1 Peter 1:6-7
"Because you know this you have great joy. You may have joy even though you may have had to suffer for a while. You may have had to suffer sadness in all kinds of trouble. Your troubles have come in order to prove that your faith is real. It is worth more than gold. Your faith is meant to bring praise, honor, and glory to God. That will happen when Jesus Christ returns."

He never promised His plan to be easy, but His plan is right for me. My husband and I have grown closer through the disagreements. I have learned to lean on him and Him. I cannot do it all, but His scripture is full of His promises for me. And who knows me better than the one who knew me before I was formed in the womb? (Jeremiah 1:5) 

Monday, August 13, 2012

The Dog Days of Summer

It's official. School started today, and I was not there. (Sad face) According to the surgeon, I am not allowed back until the 27th of August. Two more weeks. I think even the dog is ready for me to return.

Tuesday, August 7, 2012

You Have a Tattoo?

The day I turned eighteen, I got my belly button pierced. I was skinny and cute, and who doesn't want a piece of metal shoved in their belly button?  Well, obviously, my body. Within a few months my body had rejected the piercing, and I was slowly forming a granuloma underneath the bedazzled jewel that hung from belly button. So, out with the piercing and in with the scarred belly button.

Since I was young and wild, and assumed my parents didn't know anything, I waited until I turned twenty-one and went for the tattoo.  First, we stopped at Ruby Tuesdays and I bought a strawberry daquiri (because when you first turn twenty-one you MUST get an alcoholic beverage at every restaurant. period.) and drank it like a champ.  Then, I dragged myself to the tattoo parlor, ironically named Good, Clean, Fun. Ha! Now, how I made it through getting the tattoo, I will never know. I'm quite possibly the biggest scaredy-cat there is, and somehow I managed to sit in a chair and let someone use a needle to apply ink to my lower back for two hours. P.S. Wedding Crashers had not been made at this point. Save your lame bulls-eye jokes.

Long story short. Your mom will always know best. Face it. It took me twenty-eight years and a back surgery to know this.

That, my friends, is a cut straight through my beautiful tattoo. Now, when I'm old, I will not only have a wilted flower, but a scarred, wilted flower. My mother is still laughing.