how to stop breeding fear? more questions than answers here.

"I want to practice gratitude and cultivate joy in the darkness. That doesn't mean that I can't be afraid or sad or vulnerable, it simply means that reacting to tragedy by living in fear doesn't create empathy, it breeds more fear. " Brene Brown

I am scared. I am anxious. I am escaping the days until good news walks through my doors. my tone is not kind, my patience is thin. the very essence of what i pride myself on in resiliency or hope or fight literally seems to have escaped in the night. its like i woke up and my pillars disappeared. the things that keep me grounded. where have you gone?

did i turn you away with my timeline on faith? did i swallow you with my expectations? was it easier to be invisible than present and unseen? has pushing through failed me? why can't my mind win?

why can the words of my mouth not actually reflect the deeper parts of my heart, the deeper truth of my thought life? they are actually gentler, hopeful, more full of joy and knowing. more faithful. why is all the ugly surfacing?

i seem to have given you a small in and you rampaged my space and took me down. the wrong pride bubbling up and the fear being exposed in my spouting off?

i am so sorry to all who have to be near for this additional stretching that feels far less lovely than the last. because i am not rallying with hope, i feel determined to take all matters in my own hand and fix this undone life. all these parts that were supposed to look different, i am ready to fix.

it cannot be that your will be for us to be still. it cannot be that waiting while vultures pick on us be the plan. it cannot be that. can this count as my midlife crisis? God we heard you, we felt your nearness, you made yourself so known to our home and hearts. And now i cannot figure out if silence is just how it feels because its all so unresolved. I just don't get it God. Less because of an imperfect life but because this time peace is harder to be found. at least peace in strife made all hardship possible, but the roar in my belly and the festival in my mind wears my body and spirit. no wine or chocolate or exercise or anything takes that activity away long enough before i feel my lostness again.

i journal my prayers and i find myself staring at the page during the part i write my thanks. which is ridiculous, i have a GREAT deal to be thankful for, i have so much that makes me richer than most of the world, so why this block? why do my hands find any pause all the sudden to carry on with gratitude? it saddens me because i know it is my disposition, my mind, all that i have let flurry that offers more space to bitterness and control.

i spent the last few weeks working pretty hard to ignore depth in conversation. which is nearly impossible when your mom is Sue Wilson and your husband is Stephen. They see through things. It's aggravating. And their ability to process raw material is 400X mine. Mom has been here this week and i have been an anxious grump. and i don't want to think about it. and anytime Stephen walks through the door, where just five seconds before i felt butterflies but he walks in and i don't give him a smooch or stop my busyness.  No smooch first thing means i got some stuff. stuff playing around in my head usually leads to anxiety, thoughtless statements, and high hopes for all Stephen will do at the homestead. and even oddly enough, without communicating it, i am usually struggling with something that hurts him too.  but i manage to double hurt instead of encourage. damnit. drives me crazy.

like right now, this very night. i want him out so bad it makes my teeth ache from clinching. i don't want him to have to be anywhere that doesn't have the proper place for him. i want more than anything in the world that he have joy and place and opportunity. i want things to be good for him where he knows his worth. i want his questioning to be more about where should i serve or what sport should i pick up? i want us to dream of mini adventures to explore washington and spend the nights cooking and staying up too late. but they are laden. laden with lost.

So, my efforts in vain to fix are the misplaced response to crisis and my gut senses the fear breeding. So i close as i began, what i want, the truth in my thought life is that i want to cultivate gratitude and joy out of darkness. without this edge, without my timeline of resolution.