I am currently reading another book about gratitude and it has revealed much fear in me. I don't know if it is because I am pregnant and it's a girl or if this would feel so, well, "feely" for me any other time. I had the realization before I read the current book, early on in my pregnancy that I had a hard time relating to a certain type of woman. Just look for Yoga pregnancy workout videos on You Tube and you may find what I did and see what I mean. There is so much femininity, so much "connecting" with the new life within you, so much acknowledgment of this miracle within your womb-that honestly I felt like running and lifting weights would be a better option for me. (As if I will be able to do anything of the sort regularly!) I mentioned to a friend who was exploring becoming a birth educator and had really fallen in like with a class/curriculum/philosophy called "Spiritual Birthing" or something like that, that I didn't like to focus on my unborn baby because I was afraid to love something so uncertain, so unseen, so small-. I left it at that. I have not pursued anything"Spiritual" and have even quit doing my Yoga because I didn't want to become "that kind of woman" I have instead pursued the firm foundation of reading my Bible and obeying God's Law or at least wanting to and praying to. I just can't seem to blend the two types together. The woman that Loves the Law and the Spirit, that is soft and feminine but not helpless, vulnerable but able to bear a burden or ten, wild and free, loyal and devoted...
I haven't liked her very much, the "spiritually soft one" I left her alone and I expected her to do the same to me.
Now I'm reading this book on being thankful as a doorway to communion with the Lord, the key to living in Grace and the fullness of life that He died for us to live. And she is back, I am afraid of her. She is syrupy and teary eyed and sentimental(focus on the mental)She dances in the moonlight and takes pictures of flowers and I stare at my sleeping toddler who looks absolutely like the closest thing to god that I can imagine-and I hate time and the "what if's" that wake me up at night and the fact that there is so much pain in childbirth and that part of me wishes that I could just drink and drug my way through it all and drown all these tender emotions. I hate that I could be totally in love with my sleeping toddler and completely mean to my walking, wakeful teenager and wicked to the stranger who doesn't serve me well. How forgetful I am of wearing my shoes of the gospel of peace because I am busy shining my breastplate of righteousness. How little I trust God. I am afraid to love. Because I am afraid to lose.
yeah, I know-"Perfect love casts out fear"
What does that even mean? To the one who loves much and loses everything-Who knows what it means to be saved and then no longer wishes to dance on the edge of the boat rail. Who would rather wait in the boat these days and forget about walking on the water.
I am no longer interested in being a spiritual super hero. I just want relief.