Ok, you know how I'm obsessed w/ that little, cheese-fastic book "Lord, Could You Hurry a Little" by Ruth Harms Calkin? Well, I used to quote it all of the time but then it got shoved in a tote moving back to DFW. I salvaged it a few days ago and left it on the bar until cleaning. It was my mom's book. I think my Grandma (mom's mom) gave it to her b/c there is a card that has my grandma's name on it for the Smithsonian Associates, June 30, 1986. Note to self: google what this means.
So I've decided this book is better than an 8-ball. There is nothing like running up to an 8-ball, asking it a question, and seeing the answer. Will I have good fortune? "Not Likely". Oh, shut up, what do YOU know, stupid ball. Will I be skinny? "No Way!". Um, Rude! Will I have children? "Maybe". Geez, this ball doesn't want to give up much.
You know I'd buy my Miss B one if I found one in RED or PINK. Good fun right?
On the serious tip...
I saw the stack of books on bar today and decided to dig out the lord hurry book, and once again, like old times, I randomly opened it, and read whichever poem! Here is what I got:
Three Miserable Days
Lord
For three miserable days now
I have stubbornly resisted You.
I've balked and argued
I've looked for possible detours
I've shouted outrageous excuses
And I've tried in every possible way
To sidestep You.
All of this, only to discover
That my clenched-fist resistance
Has been far more unbearable
Than the obedience You require of me.
Lord, may I please have another chance?
***********************************************
I knew at that very second that I would be blogging later (which is now). I was so spiritually awakened that most of my sadness about a recent altercation lifted. But, I have work to do. The freaky thing is that it really has been 3 miserable days. I've cried so hard and so much that my eyes were on fire, swollen even. I recognize my weaknesses. I realize I always have a choice to make in every difficult situation, I still chose to be an innate human being with an innate ability to FEEL and EXPRESS emotion.....even if done in an unhealthy way. What I really feel happened was that I was keeping a stiff upper lip (for the most part) about my baby girl going off to Kindergarten. I glided in to the role trying to be super Mom, dressing her up, giving her notes and cards, and asking her how her days were. I tried and I am still trying to make this transition easy on her and on me, but truth be told, I am hurting. So then, when something else happened involving someone else in my life who I love dearly (not Michael by the way- although he has been a super trooper along my side this week despite his own physical pain and going to a specialist etc..) I let my emotions pour out. Some of these were for the intended source and justified, in my mind, and the rest, I'm convinced were because I had not let myself let go, be a little human, be emotional. My stiff upper lip cost me a bigger heart ache. I try to be strong for most of the people in my life, mainly my girls, b/c I was not shown strength and stability in my young girlhood. The most important woman in my life, who is not here anymore, was weak, and ill, and sad- not ALWAYS, but every time she tried to be strong, weak came along and showed her who was really in charge of her life. My sweet mom was on PTA and volunteered regularly in my Kindergarten class, but this version couldn't keep it up, her upper lip was never, ever strong enough.
I do not want to be like this. Sure, my girls should see I am human and capable of feeling, but my fears of being too much like my mom are overwhelming and for the past 3 days have debilitated me. My heart has been hurting, I have been depressed, I have shut down, I've had insomnia despite taking the RX meds, I've lacked motivation, my pride has been bruised, and world so so foreign. This is not me and this is not my world.
Things improved after having a good evening w/ fam celebrating my sister Amy's bday. I've also had a lot of support from my MIL and my Grandma, yes the one w/ the 1986 Smithsonian card in my book. I finally got some really good sleep b/c Michael laid down w/ me and that's it, I was out. I have told him about a million times he is stronger than Nyquil and Ambien! I just need the warmth of a caring soul next to me, to ease my anxiety, to let my soul rest, not forever, just for 8 valuable hours. I woke up happy, but still, with so much to do w/ my pain. After reading the poem 'Three Miserable Days' and getting the chills I knew I'd be ok. I knew that instantly me feeding my anger, reacting, hurting someone else, hurting myself, pain pain PAIN would all disappear- with a little work of course.
As you know, I am no bible hugger. If you are, then great, I respect those views. If you are Jewish or Buddhist, yay, I love you. I consider myself introspective with a spiritual being that has to be fed. I believe in the Lord's Prayer, The Prayer of Jabez and I appreciate Christianity. I pray. I feed my soul and I am totally a sinner. I've been known to listen to rap while working out and drop the f bomb around my kids (on total accident of course). I believe in the supernatural, in the sense that I really REALLY believe my mother tries to mother me from beyond her grave. Creepy, a little, for my readers...but so awesome for me, the receiver of this mothering. I don't have much of her stuff. This book is a profound tool in my life. I'm glad I used it today.
That is all she wrote!
