Wrestling over pancakes, Rambling free thoughts, and doing the next right thing.
So I wake up and it's 3:40 a.m. and what do I do... I work on my calendar for 30 minutes. I have a fueling at 4:15 a.m. I lay awake contemplating all that is ahead of me. I do my weekly weigh in. Down 4.6 pounds. I'm .2 pounds from 89 pounds gone forever.
Pretty amazing.
Especially when yesterday I was tempted by pancakes at IHOP. I literally asked the waitress if I could do a pretend order of unlimited pancakes and then went and ordered my cage free egg white veggie omelette.
It's March. And so with it comes the keen longing and missing and remembering of my sister. This 7th marks 16 years. Bitter-sweet 16.
I see how much I've grown and matured. I have considerable depth in ways I never would have imagined. I think of my sister and am grateful that I had her in my life.
Somedays though it feels surreal. Did I imagine Libby? Was she really there?
Other moments I still expect to be awakened from a very bad dream. I expect her to be alive and pregnant and getting the baby room ready and I remember the list all too well... my to do list. Write her Anniversary card. Buy Baby Shower invites. And then there's the sick thud. The realization it will never come. It will never move forward. Everything ended there with her.
I'm a woman torn in two.
Torn on one end with the knowledge that Libby is in Heaven and rejoicing and in a place of perfect peace and joy. And on the other end... the longing. the waiting. the impatient hoping.... soon Jesus, soon.
I'm full of hope for Samuel knowing that we are getting answers and God is going to provide all we need. And on the other end with a crushing weight of this is all overwhelming and how the heck are we going to follow all this protocol and how in the world can there be more.
And so I write and type and think and process and see this marvelous tension at play. This tug of war with heart and soul and mind and body.
I see myself at war within.
Paul talks about this kind of wrestling in Romans 7:15 I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do.
And so here I am in this crazy kind of juxtaposition. At the moment I feel like I'm winning because I didn't eat pancakes. I'm not in a psych ward. I am getting up and putting my clothes on.
But really it's all grace. And here's the amazing thing. I am loved regardless... regardless of the number on the scale... of whether I ate pancakes or not. Loved in spite of my mental health or the lack thereof.
I feel like I'm failing as a Mom. I see all the ways I could have done better, I could do better. Why isn't there more of me to go around? Why can't I be in all places at one time? Why can't I rest and work and clean and do laundry and give meds and organize and do my to-do lists all at the same time?
I'm not a machine y'all. I am not unlimited. My resources run out. My energy gets low. My brain and body and soul need rest and replenishment.
I practice self-care and feel guilty. I work and feel guilty. I spend time with my kids and feel guilty.
The guilt has got to go.
I can't be everywhere at all times doing all the things.
So I let it go. I'm going to be here in this moment doing this thing until I reach my next moment. And in that moment I will do the next right thing.
I sat in the movie theater at Frozen 2 and I bawled. I swear that movie was made for me. I want you to imagine losing your sister in a tragic car accident and then watch that movie... you might begin to get what I'm getting at.
So I have Anna's song in my heart. That prompting and pushing me to do the next right thing. The song goes like this,
I've seen dark before, but not like this
This is cold, this is empty, this is numb
The life I knew is over; the lights are out
Hello darkness: I'm ready to succumb
I follow you around (I always have)
But you've gone to a place I cannot find
This grief has a gravity, it pulls me down
But a tiny voice whispers in my mind
You are lost, hope is gone
But you must go on
And do the next right thing
Can there be a day beyond this night
I don't know anymore what is true
I can't find my direction; I'm all alone
The only star that guided me was you
How to rise from the floor
When it's not you I'm rising for
Just do the next right thing
Take a step, step again
It is all that I can to do
The next right thing
I won't look too far ahead
It's too much for me to take
But break it down to this next breath, this next step
This next choice is one that I can make
So I'll walk through this night
Stumbling blindly toward the light
And do the next right thing
And with the dawn what comes then?
When it's clear that everything will never be the same again
Then I'll make the choice to hear that voice
And do the next right thing
So once again I stop. I breathe. It's 5:15 a.m. It's time to do the next right thing.
Pretty amazing.
Especially when yesterday I was tempted by pancakes at IHOP. I literally asked the waitress if I could do a pretend order of unlimited pancakes and then went and ordered my cage free egg white veggie omelette.
It's March. And so with it comes the keen longing and missing and remembering of my sister. This 7th marks 16 years. Bitter-sweet 16.
I see how much I've grown and matured. I have considerable depth in ways I never would have imagined. I think of my sister and am grateful that I had her in my life.
Somedays though it feels surreal. Did I imagine Libby? Was she really there?
Other moments I still expect to be awakened from a very bad dream. I expect her to be alive and pregnant and getting the baby room ready and I remember the list all too well... my to do list. Write her Anniversary card. Buy Baby Shower invites. And then there's the sick thud. The realization it will never come. It will never move forward. Everything ended there with her.
I'm a woman torn in two.
Torn on one end with the knowledge that Libby is in Heaven and rejoicing and in a place of perfect peace and joy. And on the other end... the longing. the waiting. the impatient hoping.... soon Jesus, soon.
I'm full of hope for Samuel knowing that we are getting answers and God is going to provide all we need. And on the other end with a crushing weight of this is all overwhelming and how the heck are we going to follow all this protocol and how in the world can there be more.
And so I write and type and think and process and see this marvelous tension at play. This tug of war with heart and soul and mind and body.
I see myself at war within.
Paul talks about this kind of wrestling in Romans 7:15 I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do.
And so here I am in this crazy kind of juxtaposition. At the moment I feel like I'm winning because I didn't eat pancakes. I'm not in a psych ward. I am getting up and putting my clothes on.
But really it's all grace. And here's the amazing thing. I am loved regardless... regardless of the number on the scale... of whether I ate pancakes or not. Loved in spite of my mental health or the lack thereof.
I feel like I'm failing as a Mom. I see all the ways I could have done better, I could do better. Why isn't there more of me to go around? Why can't I be in all places at one time? Why can't I rest and work and clean and do laundry and give meds and organize and do my to-do lists all at the same time?
I'm not a machine y'all. I am not unlimited. My resources run out. My energy gets low. My brain and body and soul need rest and replenishment.
I practice self-care and feel guilty. I work and feel guilty. I spend time with my kids and feel guilty.
The guilt has got to go.
I can't be everywhere at all times doing all the things.
So I let it go. I'm going to be here in this moment doing this thing until I reach my next moment. And in that moment I will do the next right thing.
I sat in the movie theater at Frozen 2 and I bawled. I swear that movie was made for me. I want you to imagine losing your sister in a tragic car accident and then watch that movie... you might begin to get what I'm getting at.
So I have Anna's song in my heart. That prompting and pushing me to do the next right thing. The song goes like this,
I've seen dark before, but not like this
This is cold, this is empty, this is numb
The life I knew is over; the lights are out
Hello darkness: I'm ready to succumb
I follow you around (I always have)
But you've gone to a place I cannot find
This grief has a gravity, it pulls me down
But a tiny voice whispers in my mind
You are lost, hope is gone
But you must go on
And do the next right thing
Can there be a day beyond this night
I don't know anymore what is true
I can't find my direction; I'm all alone
The only star that guided me was you
How to rise from the floor
When it's not you I'm rising for
Just do the next right thing
Take a step, step again
It is all that I can to do
The next right thing
I won't look too far ahead
It's too much for me to take
But break it down to this next breath, this next step
This next choice is one that I can make
So I'll walk through this night
Stumbling blindly toward the light
And do the next right thing
And with the dawn what comes then?
When it's clear that everything will never be the same again
Then I'll make the choice to hear that voice
And do the next right thing
So once again I stop. I breathe. It's 5:15 a.m. It's time to do the next right thing.
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