These past couple of weeks I have immersed myself in an outrageous number of fictional novels, TV shows, and movies.
Why?
I’m so glad you asked!
Let’s go back a couple decades (I can’t believe I just said that…).
From my pre-teen to late-teen years I was an avid reader. I would grab a book, any book, and just sit and read until I reached the last page. Or, until my parents made me get up and do productive things instead.
I carried a large purse or backpack around all the time. Not because I was girly by any means, but because my books and my journals were ALWAYS with me.
Alongside my love of reading, I enjoyed putting my pen to paper as often as I could. Anytime someone needed a piece of paper or a pen, they knew to go to me. I was never without.
So let’s move up to the current year. I am the same. Unchanged. I read A LOT. I write A LOT.
Reading, for me, has always been enjoyable, entertaining, enlightening, and inspiring.
Writing, however, has always been a release. It’s motivating, self-encouraging, and a way to get all the things out of my head. All the things that race back and forth, ramming into the walls of my peace, chipping away at the structure within.
Not all thoughts are bad. Too many thoughts at once, however, can be overwhelming. And I am the textbook example of a “woman’s brain.” You know, the one they describe as an internet browser with too many tabs open?
Allow me to see that description level and raise it…
My mind is like a whole computer. Browsers are open, windows, tabs, etc. Apps are playing in the foreground and background simultaneously. The security app is constantly reminding me to check the kids and things around the house. The entertainment app is blaring with at least 3 genres of music at once, and anytime the mood changes EVERY channel changes with it! Browsers open for work and school, multiple windows and tabs for each one.
The antivirus hasn’t been run or upgraded in YEARS, and is flashing in the bottom, right corner every 3 hours or so. Its many attempts have been in vain so far. “Just click the ‘x’ in the corner to close the window till another day.”
Kind of like ignoring the check engine light on your car…
The calendar/appointment app self-destructs every few weeks or so… the poor thing.
Now, I could go on and on about how my overly anxious mind works (or doesn’t work), and likely make you dizzy with it all. I’ve chased one rabbit trail writing this post already, but I’m not editing it out. Haha!
We’ve covered reading and writing.
TV shows and movies:
Sometimes I turn them on to have background noise. That noise can often cancel out some of the scattered things swirling around in my mind when I need to concentrate on work, school, or something else.
And sometimes, I find shows and movies that are based on books.
And y’all… based on books? Not just a novel or non-fiction work, but a series of books?!
Sign. Me. Up.
I recall many of those, “How many have you watched?” lists on Facebook, marking lists of movies or TV shows, and you put a little symbol next to the ones you have seen. I would FILL those lists with symbols, every time.
I don’t really have a favorite genre of reading or writing, honestly. I glean a lot of knowledge and inspiration from non-fiction works, self-help, influential works, and more. But lately, I have leaned toward the fiction world again, much like I did as a teenager.
I can get lost in the descriptions of fictional worlds. The landscapes described with words these authors are gifted with using, that bring a scene to life inside the mind. Dialogue that can take you down emotional twists and turns, from laughing to gasping, and even crying, because you “Feel” every bit of the conversation. Describing emotions. My gosh…
As a teenager, I dreamed of becoming a published author. I wanted to open a world on paper that I brought to life with my words. Characters, conversation, the ups and downs of the hero and heroine of the story.
I wrote in my journals and notebooks for years. Visions of a story, outlines of possible books, and even a couple of drafted chapters here and there. Those notebooks and journals have traveled with me throughout my life and all the places I have moved since leaving the home where I was raised. Some have been lost, taken, ripped apart, and otherwise damaged. Not by me, but it happened none the less.
So, the other day I was pulling notebooks off the shelf for my kiddos to have something to draw on while I worked. One such notebook containing written works of two decades ago, fell out, open, on the floor at my feet.
I bent down, picked it up, and before standing straight again I paused.
The page that was open on the notebook in my hands was a list of descriptions. I had been practicing some creative writing skills with a dear friend of mine, and we would text back and forth a description of what we were looking at.
This one, however, ended up being a journaling for myself, and I couldn’t look away from the lines as the memories sucked all the air out of my core for just a moment.
“The reflection of the trees along the shore did a slow dance in the smoky glass of the water’s surface. The river is calm today. Tiny ripples hide well the dangerous current that races underneath. She’s moving fast today. A stick being carried by the current is here one second and gone the next. Underneath she is raging, but her surface gives no hint with the calm, smooth surface unbroken by waves or wind. I feel her today. I understand. I will leave for college away from home soon and I’m uncertain. The current inside me is strong, but it’s more like a churning rather than a flow. I am torn. I wanted to be a nurse. I wanted to live here and travel around the world. Did I settle? I don’t know. I also love music. And this school is going to give me music. It’s a school built for social people. Preachers, singers, teachers, evangelists… I’m not social. I’m terrified. Can I put on a face calm as the river and take this next step in my life? I don’t know. But I do know that wherever I go, any time I come home, the river will be here to greet me.”
So…
I carried that notebook to my room, sat on my bed, and turned several pages. I read short stories, poems, songs, more descriptive writing, journaling, reflections. Whew! It hit me hard.
So, what did I do? Ha! I went straight to my Kindle app, found books and started reading, went to Audible and started listening to books being read. Found Movies and TV shows based on books and watched/listened to them.
And here I have been for over a week, doing the same thing.
Remembering the creative thoughts I used to kindle into at least a little flame. Feeling the emotions connected to memories, dreams, visions, ideas, and goals I had set for myself.
Only now did I decide to open my computer and put to words what has been going on inside me these past many days.
Do I still dream of being a published author? YES!
Do I still want to write poems, music, songs, stories, and eventually books? YES!
Is this dream a possibility? YES!
Can I calm my mind enough to focus and budget my time wisely to achieve my dreams? This is where I struggle, and the rabbit trail we all took together at the beginning of this post happened. I want to. I really, REALLY do. But that computer mind of mine is on the verge of fritzing out.
Hopefully I will find the thing that sets me straight, very soon. I have a lot coming up in the very near future that will require a bit more of me than I have gathered in one compartment right now.
Until then, you will continue to get the random ramblings of a writer who loves to write. My blog posts aren’t consistently posted weekly or even monthly many times, but we will get there!
PS: if you have any book recommendations… well, you know what to do. 😊
I miss activities, adventures, groups, friends, connections, etc.
Last night there was a football game at our high school. I have two boys who attend that school.
We did not go…
Last year, one of my sons expressed great interest in joining the football team, even took some steps to get there…
All the forward movement was halted when he had a sports physical that resulted in questions about his progress in puberty. He is less than three months from his fifteenth birthday.
There is no puberty.
Never was.
No signs of it even starting.
Instead, there is a nonactive tumor squishing his pituitary gland.
This is not about that, though. That is an entirely different story in itself.
This is about missing out… and trying to figure out why, how, and if we can fix this problem.
Yes, I’m being transparent here.
There’s a lot to say. There’s a lot to be transparent about.
Why? Because I know I’m NOT the only one who struggles with this, exact issue regarding “missing out.”
Let’s go back a few years (Okay maybe a decade or more…) when I was an active member of society.
I had high hopes and dreams for a future with kids in sports, clubs, doing all the things I was able to do as a child and even more! Cub Scouts, Sunday School, youth groups, school sports, little league sports, all the things.
Life threw a curve ball here and there… well, it threw a LOT of them.
Now, don’t get me wrong. I know everyone gets curve balls thrown at them! Again, major reason we are being transparent here…
I’m not special. My struggles are not “bigger than yours” but everyone handles every level of stress, negative life events, loss, and betrayals differently.
Me? Yeah… I hid from the world.
Long story short, a decade of less-than-healthy choices (both external and internal choices) lead me to isolating myself.
I was sad when those close to me didn’t get involved with the things I was so excited about for my kids. I was overworked being the only one who took them to events, helped with homework, projects, socializing them, etc. I was already struggling with my own depression and to add burn-out to the pile just shut me down.
And shut down I remained… for a solid three years. Minimum.
I hid myself and my family from the world.
I was tired of hearing falsehoods about myself and my family from people who didn’t even know me.
I was tired of being seen at the grocery store and then hearing a whole, new rumor about myself a week later from “concerned friends.”
I was tired of carrying a label. I was “the bad guy” in a lot of things. Everywhere I turned I didn’t see “friends” anymore. I saw spies. I saw liars. I saw betrayal at every turn.
Eventually, I stopped seeing anything good.
My vision was murky with pain, heartache, anxiety, depression, loss, and eventually… full-blown bitterness.
Bitter Becca. That’s what I dubbed myself.
Yep. I did. I wore my own title like a badge and shield.
It has taken me years to grow from the little, broken roots that I was cut down into.
Four years, to be exact.
I would take a step forward and then two steps back over the course of the past four years. Sometimes I would break even, and I would get so excited! Then another step back.
Of my 5 children, two are in special education classes. I have often wondered if I could have done something to prevent this from happening for them. Was it me? Did I not work hard enough to get them through to a higher level?
They don’t have many friends, limited to the ones secluded in these classrooms with them for their entire academic life.
My one, school-aged child who is not in such classes struggles with depression (possibly related to the puberty issue? We don’t really know), also very few friends, and the inability to follow through with many things. Again, I sit and wonder if I have ‘less-than-succeeded’ with him as well.
I lived years without taking my kids into society. School was it. They never asked to go to games, events, trips, etc.
My oldest did go to a couple of dances during Junior High, before Covid stole that from us. To see his face light up the way it did when he got home, telling stories about how fun the music was, learning some cool moves, the snacks and drinks they got to enjoy made my heart so glad.
Sometimes I wonder how that could be 4 years ago…
I sit in my bed, unable to sleep many nights, and reflect on things. I write in my journal, make lists in my notebooks, read books and my Bible, scroll FB and watch a world around me be social and active, and I have cried.
Not tears of depression.
Tears of fear. Actual Fear.
Because I want to go. I want to get out there.
But I have come so far mentally, emotionally, and even spiritually in my little isolated space that the thought of stepping out and ending up with another “step back” wrenches my gut!
My family, and my few, close friends can tell stories of me being excited about a thing and then talking myself out of it within minutes.
I want to be involved. I want my kids to be involved.
I’m just trying to figure out how to push past my fear. Fear that developed a lack of interest, motivation, and increased avoidance of public places and events.
My fears used to be focused solely on people talking. Over time it just became a fear of people, period.
I will say that I am happy Child #3 expressed interest in participating in the Labor Day Parade last week with his aunt. And he obviously had a blast!
My oldest expressed a renewed interest in music last night. Band, specifically.
In elementary school he wanted to be in the band. He struggled with the multi-step instructions and music reading, resulting in his not being given that desired opportunity.
He mentioned it again last night as we watched the band prepare for the football game.
My boys attend an e-sports group after school on some days, and yesterday happened to be one. As I was picking them up, people were arriving to the school to prepare for the game.
I mean… is it too late? Is he too old? Did I cause him to lose out on opportunities in life? These are questions I ask myself at night when I am alone in my room.
Can I turn some things around, upside right, and build us up from where we stand today?
I think I can one minute and then I question myself the next.
So, here in my transparent moment, I want to step up and step out.
Maybe the next football game, I won’t talk myself out of going.
Take a step. And then take another.
Someone recently told me that first steps are hard, and she is right. But they are necessary to keep going forward.
And like a baby learning to walk, I took my first ones a little shaky.
If there is anyone out there who is struggling, whether it be anxiety like me, addiction, depression, fear, or anything…
Just know I’m taking some first steps too.
We can start together.
And… we can make it to the top together.
I almost feel super pumped right now. Haha!
I just want to raise my fist in the air today and say “by golly I’m going to socialize! In person!”
And when I finally do… I’ll let you know how it goes. 😊
Thank you for enduring my transparent moment for the day.
Lately I have had a “few” bad days, but a LOT of bad moments.
How do I differentiate between the two? I’m so glad you asked!
Just this weekend I had a fibro flare up out of nowhere, and it lasted a total of 48 hours. THAT was a bad day. Two of them to be hourly specific.
In fact, three… because it started in mid-afternoon on Sunday and finally let up Tuesday evening.
The pain was debilitating, and nearly impossible to describe to anyone who has never experienced it before.
In August, when my entire family got Covid at the same time (minus me apparently… every test I took came back negative).
Those were some rough days.
Two weeks of them.
Kids having issues coughing, breathing, being sick, fevers, not eating or drinking anything, scaring me to death, and the slow recovery from the worst of it…
Bad. Days.
Now, perspective is everything when you take a situation and just call it a bad moment instead of a bad day.
I have a couple examples…
When the window on my car stopped rolling up, stuck at the bottom of the track, deep inside the door panel, and the window had to be covered with plastic for a while.
Sure, the plastic was there for a few weeks, but the only “bad” moments occurred when the window wouldn’t come up, and when my dad informed me that plastic was the only solution until a new motor device could be bought.
Two moments in a single day.
But the window was covered, and while we had plastic over it the window provided entertainment for the twins as we drove down the road.
With all it’s flapping and rustling sounds as the wind hit it at different rates of speed.
The day the tailpipe dropped out from under my car.
I was sitting with a friend, and we were cracking jokes about my license plate while looking at my car parked across the street.
I squinted and looked under my car, looked at her and said, “What is that? Do you see it?!”
She looked. “I have no idea. I didn’t notice it until you said something.”
I took a picture of it and sent it to my dad, who was in town THANKFULLY, and met me to look.
Yep. Tailpipe.
Literally hanging by a single, little bolt!!
Bad moment!
For weeks, until I could afford to fix it, I drove around with my tailpipe in the back of my car.
Oh, the looks we got when I opened the back hatch around other people!
“Oh, yeah that’s just the tailpipe…” would be my normal explanation.
But the car was still running. (Minus the days it decided not to start, but I digress…)
We could still get to school, daycare, and work every day.
I was frustrated, but I was thankful.
These were bad moments.
I could have easily taken these moments and turned them into bad days, but I did not.
Bad days exist! They really do. And they range anywhere from physical health, mental health, loss of loved ones, loss of homes, cars, many things. Bad. Days.
But, when something happens in a moment, something that may even last a while (plastic on the windows and tailpipes in the trunk), but you still have your home, job, health, family, friends, and that car still works decently well… it really is just a bad moment.
We cracked jokes about how much louder my car was without the tailpipe (It was already super loud WITH the thing).
We had fun with the plastic covering over the open window. Even with all the stink bugs that would get stuck in the crack of it!
Yes, I was frustrated multiple times and days over the same, little things. But I didn’t let it last. I couldn’t.
It truly was just a bad moment.
My Pastor’s Wife told me that my new name was Murphy at one point this year. Every time I texted her, it was to tell her about something ELSE that happened, broke, stopped working, etc…
She said, “I love you, but if you didn’t have bad luck… you wouldn’t have any luck at all!”
And you know what? We Laughed! Because it was humor in the moment AFTER the bad moment happened.
And laughter is the best medicine in a bad moment.
A boss of mine told me I’m too cheerful, to the point it’s scary.
Another one told me my positive outlook was inspiring.
Both of them have seen me at highs and lows. They know about a lot of my bad moments, and all my bad days (at least in the past 12 months anyway). And both of them have commended me on my ability to handle stressful situations in my life.
Is my ego inflated?
NOPE!
Because I didn’t get here by being perfect.
I got here by going through some serious yuck.
I had to learn how to let go of the bad moments and let them be “moments” instead of turning them into bad “days”.
Yes, these are labels… with NO cans
I could spend plenty of time describing all the bad moments and days of the past year alone, and it would bring none of us to any good by the end.
Instead, I would rather tell you that, in the bad moments you can find good.
You can reach through that ugly place that tries to crush you in the moment, and turn it into a bad day, and rise above it.
If you can’t reach through the first time, that’s okay!
I didn’t!
I probably didn’t on the 100th time either!
But I got there. And so can you.
I can say with absolute certainty that my victories and my ability to rise above has come directly from the Peace that my God has given me.
It surpasses all comprehension.
It calms my soul, my mind, and my heart.
It gets me through my bad moments, and my bad days.
And that peace comes from giving the bad moments and days up, and letting the hand of God hold you and carry you through.
And that, my friends, is what the next blog post will be about.
The end of the Covid Journey has finally come for the children! The time has come to open windows, doors, pull out the Lysol, Clorox, Fresheners, SCENTSY WAX AND WARMERS, and room sprays! Brooms, mops, laundry detergent, and varying soaps abound!
Now, for all of you who know me well… my house might get clean one room at a time… but once I move to the next room, the previous will be dirty all over again. Sometimes because I’m that slow getting there, but mostly because my tiny tornadoes are that quick at “normalizing” my freshly sparkled surfaces! Haha!
Cleaning and sanitizing aside, I know everyone wants to know how the household is faring thus far…
Titus lost his sense of taste and smell for a total of 24 hours, and had SLIGHT body cramping for about 6 hours. All in the same day. He’s been fine since.
Micah was pretty much out of the woods by the day after they tested. His chief complaint was his throat, and it was pretty bad. He did have the cough for a few days, and several nights through the night. Other than that, he never ran a fever, never had any other issues, and is doing QUITE well now!
Rayne… same as Titus as far as outward issues. She did have a scratchy voice for several days, and acted like she was hurting “somewhere” for about 48 hours.
Asher had the nastiest poo diapers anyone has ever seen in this family for about 5 days! Y’all… it was GROSS!! He bounced back from that, and a slight nighttime cough for a few nights, and has been on top of the world (but under Rayne) ever since!
I never tested positive… but I was sick. Who knows if I actually had it or not, but I was just as bad as Micah for several days. And, given that EVERYONE else in my house had Covid… I think I had false negatives. But I digress…
Levi is coming back to his own on a gradual pace. He was released to go back to school Monday, and when he got home Monday afternoon he crashed… hard. He slept the entire afternoon, evening, and then off and on the whole night into Tuesday morning. He has a very slight lingering cough, nothing rough. His voice still sounds raspy and congested. But overall, he’s improved greatly!
My darling grandmother doesn’t have Covid either… but her annual bronchitis has made its glorious return to her life, and she’s getting better by the day with her medication and PLENTY of outdoor time! Because… what’s going to stop Granny from going outside and working in her flowers?
Yeah… exactly.
Today was the first day I was able to work from home with no kids here until 3pm. I almost didn’t know what to do with myself! I had to turn up some music to cover the silence that was all around me! I got laundry done during breaks, and cleaned the dining room, living room, and hallway during lunch. It was glorious!!
Tonight everyone is already in their beds and it’s not even 8:30pm!
WHAT?!
YES!!!
Part of me wants to crawl into my bed and sleep so badly…
Part of me also wants to get a few more things done around the house that I know are necessary as well.
I can’t tell you which part will win tonight. I’m just going to take some time to be extremely thankful that we went through this tunnel with the ease and grace that we did! It could have been A LOT worse!
But it wasn’t.
And I am just sooooo thankful!
I don’t think I want to look at another bottle of Gatorade for a very long time.
I KNOW I don’t want to see, smell, or taste cough syrup again for a LONG time either!
But I am NOT tired of soup!
And we had lots of soup!
In fact, we are doing Chili tomorrow night. At the request of the kiddos!
Ah… children after my own heart!
Until the next time, my friends!
Thank you all for the thoughts and prayers! They worked!
~B~
Ps. Next time we will have a little chat about my fridge going out while we were quarantined… THAT was fun…
It’s 11pm on day… 8 for two of us and day 5 for the rest… I think?
Anyway, here is the update I have the energy for tonight…
We just won’t talk about me until tomorrow night.
Titus was totally a-symptomatic until today. He woke up sore all over and started taking Motrin and Tylenol on a timed schedule all day and seems to be fine this evening. Yay!
Micah is improving. He still has a raggedy cough now and then, and is taking the medication accordingly.
Rayne has a raspy voice, and the gross poo issue.
Asher has had a HORRID diaper rash for two days and he was feverish yesterday. He’s better today.
Levi…
Levi is my concern.
Levi barely leaves his bed except to use the bathroom or get something to drink. He hasn’t eaten food in 24 hours. He was “better” three days after his symptoms started, but as of yesterday (day 7) he started to sink a bit. We are hoping he doesn’t tank on us here…
From the reports I have received from others who’s children his age have had it, they tanked around days 8-10 and it was rough. I’m hoping I’m seeing the worst with him now.
We have cone all we can to keep it at bay, only to get it. And now we are doing all we know to do to keep it as mild as possible.
I’m still working, because the state isn’t giving us Covid time off anymore, as of earlier this month. So I’m doing this whole mess while working from home as well…
Fun times!
Just continue keeping us in your prayers and I’ll hopefully have better news as we continue on this journey.
The little o2 sensor thing has come in handy, to say the least. The medicine is flowing freely. The ice machine is getting a workout like nobody’s business! We have consumed at least 7 containers of Gatorade, several bottles of Body Armor, at least 4 gallons of home-made sweet tea, and countless cups of water and ice over the past few days…
We spend as much time as possible in the sunlight (when the sun is shining, and we are awake simultaneously).
I have made 4 different types of soup so far, and only two of them ended up in the freezer or fridge later for leftovers.
I think the toddlers will kick it faster than anyone, because they are mobile and wreaking havoc all over my house every waking hour. So we are good there. The diaper rash issue is a thing, but likely because of the lack of milk, and the increase in other types of fluids due to the risk of dehydration.
Micah will kick it, too. I am confident he is on the upward trend from it all.
Who knows about Titus… he is a mystery with ANY viral anything. Haha!
Keep Levi in your prayers. His upward rise from this is going to be much slower than anyone’s unless he surprises me and just springs from it in a day… which would be GREAT in my book!
Ok… I’m going to crash while I’m awake enough to remember where my bed is.
Something I have let slip by me in recent months has been my devotion times. Those moments, whether they be in the morning, afternoon, or late at night, when I can open my Bible or another book that is inspirational to me and bask in some positive thoughts and prayers.
I am happy to say that I have picked up the habit again, and it has been a glorious thing!
One, small scripture has been in my mind for weeks now and I just felt I needed to share with you all my thoughts on this one.
Whether you are a Christian or not… this is for you!
Philippians 4:8
“Finally, brethren, whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report; if there be any virtue, and if there be any praise, think on these things.”
In the past several months, I have seen and experienced many changes in life.
Ups and downs.
There were moments of great joys and moments of worry and stress. And sometimes, like many people do, I would lose myself in the lesser moments. The moments of worry, stress, pondering things of the past that are no longer relevant to my life or my family, and I would forget the things I SHOULD be thinking about.
And I have learned and known from experience, those things that we THINK about eventually become the things we SPEAK. Right?!
Which is why this verse is sooooo important!
I can vividly remember a time when my family was going through a struggle, when I was a teenager, and my mom would quote this verse at random, just walking around the house or even driving in the car. I didn’t memorize this verse for Bible drills as a child, or as a memory verse in Sunday School. No, I memorized this verse by hearing my mother quote it for a very, very long time. Almost daily.
When I had moments of frustration my mom would ask me if my thoughts were true, honest, pure, lovely, just, of good report, virtuous or praise-worthy, and I couldn’t tell you how many times I rolled my eyes so far, I’m shocked they never got stuck!
Fast forward to this past year…
I cannot tell you how many times I have caught myself, in moments of frustration with people, circumstances, and other things, thinking, “is this something that is TRUE? Is this HONEST? Is it PURE? Is this VIRTUOUS?… and if not, WHY am I letting it invade my thoughts rent-free?!”
Now let’s talk about my experiences with thought to word…
I went through some dark days several years ago, and they lasted quite some time. My thoughts were not positive. They were not happy. I was angry, bitter, hurt, lonely, and pretty much broken. I let the negative seep into my mind, and it eventually became how I spoke.
My words were not positive. My outlook on life was not positive. And with every negative thought that became words, it came full circle and made me even more miserable.
And then I found PEACE…
I cannot tell you when or where. I just know it happened. And it was a glorious thing!
With peace came the memories I had let myself forget. The times when I would hear my mother speak words of wisdom, peace, joy, love, kindness, and all things encouraging in times of struggle in her own life. How she was able to stand up and stay silent during times when crumbling and giving up during the battle was so tempting! I thought she was just being too nice, but she was building her heart and mind into something amazing!
And she was building it in me as well…
And so, here we are…
We have endured a Pandemic, lock-down, remote learning, remote working, NO working, wearing masks everywhere, not being able to gather as families and groups, and so much more!
People got sick.
People died.
People we know.
I have seen families fall apart.
I have seen people endure mental struggles they would have never otherwise experienced.
I have had to explain to my children why we couldn’t “go and do.”
We have endured struggles because of things beyond our control.
We have endured hardships.
I could go on and on about the things we have “suffered.”
But why???
Because it is so easy to fall victim of the one thing that captures our thoughts and words… the negative.
There’s another verse in the Bible that talks about our words. In Proverbs… “Death and life are in the power of the tongue…”
So, when we THINK the negative, we SPEAK the negative. And the negative kills.
I’m not talking about killing a person. I am talking about killing other things.
Negative kills joy.
It kills laughter.
It kills kindness.
It kills peace.
It kills love.
It kills our praise.
And it kills the spirit…
So let’s put a flip on it for a moment and see how it changes the outlook.
(We had a pandemic, and lock-down.)
I got to spend an entire year with my babies and experience every milestone!
(People got sick with Covid.)
Nobody in my family got ANY other virus all year!
(I didn’t have a job for a while.)
I got to spend all spring and summer in the garden with my grandmother who is 80 years old. We snapped beans, canned pickles, talked about tomatoes, peppers, flowers, and more!
(My children struggled with remote learning.)
My kids got to learn to drive tractors, hike, ride bikes and golf carts, fix broken things, install flooring, appliances, and bathroom things, and learned many family skills!
I got back to my roots!
I picked up books, my Bible, my journal, my notebooks, and my computer and I filled my heart and mind with the things that make me happy, stronger, more peaceful, and my spirit is happy.
Yes, I still have days and nights where I sit and wonder how I am going to do things on my own. I wonder when I will get enough sleep. I wonder how I will manage to spread myself a little thinner for all the things a single mother of five must do on the daily…
