I've been super stressed. And depressed, kinda. And anxious. And all crazy like. My husband has been concerned for my brain.
So I did some praying last week. And I was all like, "Please help me to not feel this way. What do I gotta do to not feel so low?".
I tried to ponder and divine what God's answer might be but I feel asleep.
I always fall asleep when I ponder at bedtime. Pondering should be done not when you're in bed flat on your back, apparently.
I had a dream. I think Heavenly Father sends me important dreams often because I am too busy and loud and stubborn to Hear during my waking hours.
The dream goes like so:
I am walking along the wash below my parent's home. There is someone walking with me. I don't know who. He feels like a he. I never actually see his face.
I have my purse on my left shoulder, like always. I set it down.
The bag is open. Unzipped.
Inside I can see 4 or 5 medium sized stones at the bottom of my bag.
"Who put those rocks there?" I ask.
"You did," he replies.
That's the dream. Powerful, eh?
I put the rocks in my own stinkin' bag!
Okay. But how do I get them out.
The rocks in my bag are the sorrows of my friends. I have talked to three of my good friends in the last month who are in the process of either separating from or divorcing their spouses. Children are involved. Hearts of people I care for will be obliterated.
The rocks in my bag are the health issues of people I care for.
The rocks in my bag are the stresses of being an American concerned for the leadership of this country. Financial ruin is imminent if things continue as they have. The negativity on the news is enough to spin anyone into a deep abyss of sadness and anxiety.
I am weighed down by personal finances, my children's academic success now and planning to pay for their college educations. Saving money is HARD! (I've been clipping coupons. It's really fun, actually, but still... Saving money is HARD! ...Especially when there are SO many super cute shoes and such available online with just a click of a button.)
I am weighed down by my weight. I freak if I gain 5 pounds. It's easy to gain 5 pounds when you feel sad and a cookie (or 4) might cheer you up. Five pounds may as well be 500. Have you ever SEEN what 5 pounds of fat looks like when it's in a jar? GROSS! Do you think I want fat from a jar on my THIGHS?? So upsetting.
I'm very concerned, lately, about what people think of me. I want to be funny and fun but I'm no one's Circus Clown. I want to be taken seriously. But not be boring and all lame. I want to be spiritual and righteous but not all stuffy and judgey. What DO people think of me anyway? Maybe I don't want to know. And that's sad.
I am weighed down by the realization that I have lovely teen/tween daughters. ACK!!! Boys. Need I say more?
I'm in charge of FOUR CHILDREN!!! EVERYDAY!!!! And on judgement day God will say, "Did you do everything you could to lead these children aright?"
I WILL BE HELD RESPONSIBLE!
WHAT IF I TOTALLY SCREW THEM UP?!
I'm weighed down by the fact there are spots on my carpet because my children have dirty little feet and no matter how much I clean and scrub there is always more to clean and scrub. So I scrub and clean and clean and scrub until I'm in a tizzy and mad at the world.
After my dream I still felt pretty crappy. Rocks. Shmocks. Stones. Shmones.
A couple of nights ago I was clipping coupons with a bad attitude. I was tired. My brain was racing with worries and all the things I needed to do the next day.
A coupon for Scrubbing Bubbles with Fantastik fluttered away and landed beneath my coffee table.
I need Scrubbing Bubbles with Fantastik so I can clean and scrub and be mad at the world.
I quickly climbed under the coffee table to retrieve the runaway. In a jerky, angry motion I tried to remove myself from beneath said table.
I banged my head. Hard.
I hit my head so hard I thought the second coming had been announced. Stars fell from the heavens and the moon was blood red and whatever. I acquired a huge goose egg on my noggin and everything.
I'm not usually a crybaby when I hurt myself physically but I had had it. I burst into tears. I cried like a little kid.
I prayed and cried and cried and prayed. I said a lot of it's not fairs and this life is so hards.
Sometimes a good cry will do a world of good.
This was not one of those times.
It was one of those times.
I got the sense knocked back into me. I suddenly had a very clear understanding that I was being a whiny little brat.
I lacked gratitude.
So now I'm trying to be more grateful. I'm grateful for my fat thighs.
I'm super grateful for my marriage. My husband is my rock and my very best friend. We have learned over the years to take care of each other. Put each other first. I could not do without him!
I'm grateful for my healthy children. And that I live in a free country run by good people (even though Obama is dead wrong on divers issues I believe he is a good man with good intentions).
I'm grateful for my religion and my god.
I'm grateful for my friends so that I can comfort them when they need comfort. I know I can count on the same treatment if I am ever to need it.
I'm grateful for my lovely teen/tween daughters and am learning to operate a pistol with confidence.
I'm grateful for coupons and scrubbing bubbles.
I'm grateful for a whole bunch of other junk. I think you get my drift.
Have any of you been watching the X Factor? It's so entertaining! I'm grateful for brainless television. It makes the world go 'round.