Today was supposed to be my first day back at church. I was apprehensive even last night, but I’ve resumed an almost regular day-to-day existence, so I thought maybe my apprehension was put there by the devil. He often tries to get me to come up with reasons not to go to church. (Doesn’t your back hurt a little? You didn’t get much sleep last night.)
This morning I was hit with the “everything that could go wrong will” gun. And, I did not act appropriately. My daughter messed around and didn’t get into the shower until there was no hot water left. My son came down ready to go in khaki pants that are too short (and he’s been told so previously). My daughter then came down in jeans. (We just haven’t gone that contemporary at our church yet.) I opened the closet to get out my coat and Battleship fell out with pieces flying. “Son of a b****! Who puts a game right at the door? I mean, Seriously!” was my response.
And then the tears started flowing. I hated how I had reacted to each of those “little” moments. I hated myself.
One of the things I learned while in the Crisis Care Clinic was I set my expectations too high. The psychiatrist informed me that I wouldn’t be back to normal until mid-January/early February. I guess he’s right. Who knew all that schooling he went through actually taught him something?
So, friends, I ask you to learn to listen to your body. If you aren’t ready for something, and the rest of the world thinks you should be, listen to what your body is telling you.
After everyone left for Sunday School and church, I realized that I had ignored example #976 that I’m still not 100%. I went to pour my morning cup of coffee, and it came out completely clear. I hadn’t even put coffee in the machine. I should have listened to my body.
