As the rain and the snow come down from heaven, and do not return to it without watering the earth and making it bud and flourish, so that it yields seed for the sower and bread for the eater, so is my word that goes out from my mouth: It will not return to me empty, but will accomplish what I desire and achieve the purpose for which I sent it. -- Isaiah 55:10-11

Friday, January 28, 2011

Umbrella Drinks in the Fire

Annoyingly, the rollercoaster is still in full swing. I feel like a pendulum Tarzan slamming from one extreme mood to another. Okay, well, that euphoric part of the manic is a bit elusive lately, but nonetheless. DESPITE THE MOOD PENDULUM TELEPORTATION, I know things are getting better...I am getting better.


First of all, I have really missed my mom this week. Like I told a friend of mine, I don't think I have really been congnizant of grieving Mom in the last 3 1/2 months. I've missed her, but I haven't grieved. This week I grieved. This week, my heart felt broken, and the tears fell with just the mention of her. That Is huge because it means the pain from the divorce is not so great that I find the grief of Mom's death too much. I am now stable enough with the divorce to address the emotions of losing Mom.

Of course, that also means I just swapped rollercoaster rides. Yeehaw.

I'm also thinking through things faster and not getting lost in the pain, I think. In the last week a few things have slammed me really hard, and I've cried a lot, hurt a lot, but I've also prayed a lot, been still a lot, listened a lot, and thought a lot more clearly. And each time I've walked away from the "trigger" calmer, more focused, more...sure. I won't say I have a swagger in my step, but I do have a smile on my face.

And once again, I am able to see myself as a shaper of our future, not just someone trying to survive a helluva rough seven months, but someone who will flourish and have an amazing life. I can choose that. I'm not a victim. I am a visionary with determination and peace.

Oh, believe me, I am fully aware that tomorrow you could walk in and find me sobbing on my bedroom floor again. If so, just set the Kleenex box beside me. Feel free to sit down with me and wait it out or close the door behind you when you leave. Either is fine because today is good. Right NOW is good...in that "been through the fire and am still there but I'm learning how to enjoy an umbrella drink while I'm here" sort of way. :-)

1 comment:

Lisa Buffaloe said...

Sweet friend, I so love your heart. I'm praying for you as your ride this wild ride. (((Jerri)))

Love you!