And

"I have a lot of faith and a lot of fear a lot of the time"

 - Anne Lamott

School has started back up,  and the kids' schedule is cresting the peak of the semester roller coaster.  Soon we will be careening fast and furious,  around and around, in and out, upside down and right side up.  Fortunately, what looks like mayhem is actually quite organized!  I am spoiled by carpool and bikes and little legs that carry my kids to and from school, practice, lessons.  On normal days, everyone leaves the house by 8 am freeing my own schedule up to start whatever tasks present themselves to me.  This is most often work, with a load or 2 of laundry, plus a dishwasher full of dishes.  The days come and go, hours ticking by to the metronome of the second hand. 

The summer brought activity as well, and we were thrilled to get to go camping, backpacking, fishing, and driving to some beautiful places.  The Grand Canyon greeted us with scenery so beautiful it shocked me.  The lakes that I paddle boarded on provided contentment and peace as I explored this new hobby.  From walks in our own neighborhood, to hikes up mountains far away, our family experienced a great summer of togetherness. It was a final summer having all 6 of us live at home as our oldest has now moved into the dorms at her college.  As we checked off the days of summer, we moved closer to the new changes and experiences that were ahead.   

Whenever there is "new" in the family, it seems like it brings significant change to my mama heart. It has to learn to beat a new rhythm,  feel new feelings, dance a new dance.   I'm not a super big fan of Change, yet I know that it is a part of our family,  acting as another member demanding time and attention just like everyone else.  Now I don't have a Christmas stocking for "change" or have a place at the table for "change"  - I don't even know how old he/she is... but I know that Change lives here with us.   Change affects us, and challenges us, and requires that we listen and pay attention to it.  

One morning, I sat in my favorite chair on the front porch praying. One of the kids had made some choices earlier in the summer that had me all tied up in knots.  Through tears, I told the Lord... "I cannot breathe over this." My admission came from a place of desperation because when you aren't breathing, you aren't living. And I felt dead.  Even though we were having a summer full of outdoor activities and fun family outings, I was basically walking dead all the way through them; pasting on a smile and doing my "job" as the mom, all the while holding my breath, drowning because of how my world had changed.  As I sat there crying out to Jesus, I felt Him say to my spirit "Let's start with the basics.  Inhale. Exhale".  Ironically,  I will tell the kids when they are hurt or crying that we are going to do yoga breathing... "Inhale. Exhale".  Just the basics.  I felt like God was tapping into something I already knew... that the basics was what I was being instructed to do.  Nothing fancy, just in and out.

That very day, I decided to move with the changes rather than against them, and slowly work on breathing again.  Inhale - Receive God's help.  Exhale - Believe He is with me.  Inhale trust - Nothing is too hard for my Sovereign Lord.  Exhale Fear - My God is holding my hand telling me He will help me.  Day after day, this practice became my very way to live.  I had to speak God's word over these changes that had been threaded through our summer months or else I was going to die inside. When I was speaking, I was breathing.  When I was breathing the trauma felt manageable, the fear less monstrous.  

Now, I spend moments every day with a set of note cards that have written reminders of God's love, His faithfulness and my dependence on Him.  The oxygen of my soul is the scriptures I have copied from my Bible onto the cards.  I am fearful, AND I am faithful.  I am terrified AND I am trusting.  What I have learned this summer is that the expectation isn't that I must be one or the other.  Some days, most days,  I am both.  There are minutes I feel stronger and some weaker.  But just because I have fear, doesn't mean I don't have faith.  And just because I trust in my Heavenly Father, doesn't mean that there aren't  moments where I'm terrified.  My therapist said that when a body/mind/spirit/heart/soul goes through a trauma (the changes that I went through), it's a little bit like being struck by lightning.  All circuits are shorted out, all connections need reattached, portions of whatever has been struck are broken or paralyzed. Her words identified exactly where I was at.  Paralyzed, broken, unattached.   As Catherine Wolf so eloquently taught me this year through her book "Hope Heals", there is a phenomenon called Post Traumatic Growth Syndrome.  The thought that even when you encounter suffering, or hardship in traumatic ways, there is the possibility of growing through it, rather than just stressing through it.  But growth requires breath.  Without oxygen, there is no life.   So I must continue to breathe, and choose to move with the changes that come, and relax in the rhythm  of "Inhale. Exhale" to the praise and Glory of my Emmanuel.

Quote by Ann Voskamp