Gosh, God, I am tired. Julia Cameron counsels morning pages for first thoughts. It’s nearly 9 pm; these are definitely not first thoughts. My first thought, after how good the puppy was to wake me to go out, was panic. Panic inside and efficient calm outside because that is what I do. Now after a long day in the ER, Pete is resting quietly and who knows what happened this morning, what was the cause of his weakness. You know. You really know. And as hard as today was, all the love I felt, from friends and family really helped get me through. But all that talk yesterday about joy, honestly, I didn’t have much of that today. And now I am at that little kid point of tired where I am just rambling.
You are like a tea kettle. You need a place to let off steam, in this case, the steam of pent up worry. Even your efficient responses today created steam, since you had to think and do rather than feel and be. And you did. You did, and you thought, and you managed. The danger for you now is to stay in that mode and not take time to go ahead and let off the pressure, and allow yourself to feel and express that feeling.
God, You say that and I tear up. I was afraid. I’m sorry but I was afraid.
Of course you were. You need to bring those fears and feelings to Me, not out of sorrow or shame but out of confidence and faith, like a young child who brings a hurt to a parent to make it all better. It’s like breathing; you can let out your held-in breath now. You can breathe. You can relax a little. You were vigilant, tense, on alert, all day.
I don’t know what is going to happen.
You do know what is going to happen–you just don’t know when, or how. So what I can tell you is, the time to grieve or mourn is not yet, not now. Trust Me at least this much, for at least this. Take this assurance in with each breath. And know that when the time comes to let go, I will be with you; you will not be alone. And when your own time comes to let go, again I will be with you and I will also be with all of those who love you, who must let you go. I want you to greet tomorrow’s sunrise with gratitude for the day and all the blessings in it. Take time tomorrow to rewind today. Each time you feel that fear, that angst, I want you to lift it up to Me. You can give me your fears and your feelings again and again and again. I can handle them. I can carry them. And I can ease you, over and over, and make your load lighter and easier. Tomorrow will be a better, easier, more joyful day; paradoxically, every moment of laughter and ease tomorrow will be sweeter because of today’s challenges. So allow yourself to feel all your feelings–the difficult ones and the more joyous ones. Don’t hide them from yourself or from Me. I know you have to have a public face. But not here. Not with Me. Never with Me.
I am so sorry you had one of these days. My yesterday was similarly trying. I find your conversations you have had with God and have shared with us are so comforting and healing and I feel blessed and gifted to having been led to them. It is nice to have a place where you dont have to be strong or to hide. Love you. Lana
Lana, learning not to hide has been a lifelong challenge, one I was not really ready to take on until recently–at 60, I’d say about time! I still struggle with releasing all these very private thoughts, but the more feedback I get (including in the dialogs themselves), the more I know these are meant to be shared. Thank you for your continued encouragement, and I pray you continue to find more peace and more joy, as I have. Love you. Eve
Feeling much the same anxiety and angst with no where to let off that steam, and consequently it builds pressure and blows out at the worst times. Your conversations help lead me to a better place. I wish the answers you see, feel, and hear came more naturally to me, but I believe that many of your answers are shared here for me to find them. Much love.
Oh, Barb, I truly cannot conceive of the steam you must build up. It is a reality for strong women, I think…both our blessing and our curse, this strength. I am so glad these posts are helping ease you, if even a little. And honestly, this is why I finally agreed to share them–the hope that they could help someone else. Knowing that you are one of those my own vulnerability is helping makes it so much more wonderful. Love you so much.