boy mom · Mommy life · Single Mom

Oh Ye of Little Faith

I guess I am basically a terrible example of having blind faith in God’s promises.   I just sent a picture of a new book I got for myself for Christmas, Anxious for Nothing, by Max Lucado, to a friend who struggles with anxiety and self worth (when she is this amazing mom, coworker, aunt, friend and lady), and told her I was reading it because so many of the ladies I have the opportunity to know through our small group struggle with depression and anxiety. I have had such an insurgence of kids in my office who simply cannot get to school because of their fears and constant worries too.  I have struggled with depression and a total lack of self worth, but my anxiety has never been too much to manage (although if you make me late for church and we have to walk in while everyone is already singing and everyone turns to look at us, rest assured, my heart rate will be up in my ears…..but that’s not anxiety, right?).

So yesterday I meandered into our main bathroom, only to find that the vanity lights simply didn’t work.  I turned them off and on, off and on (like that would change things), went to flip the breaker, reset all of my appliance clocks, and threw my hands up in the air.  I am used to this pattern.  My little old house knows when my emergency fund has been replenished, it seems my home and my savings account are synched.  “Oh YAS girl, you are all set and good to go? Here we go!!!”. Ugh.  I always say that I am glad to have an actual emergency fund, but would rather not have to always use it. Such it is to own a home, I guess.  My sweet daddy came by today to have a look at the switch (and did not mind that our guinea pigs were having their weekly bath in the tub #mylife), and said it looked ok but he would get a new one.  What on earth would I do without my daddy? He fixed a glaring hole in my garage last week, and now acts like something that brought down my whole day yesterday is no big deal (I think he is used to decades of my dramatics).

So when we got home from an afternoon matinee of Ferdinand (a must see, but I do warn you that your children will come home as vegetarians.  Allen is always on me to feed Cole more beef but that simply is not going to happen now, whoops), I thought I might do a load of laundry before we played a game and went to my class at the gym.  My washing machine would not even turn on, no matter the setting.  I unplugged it and plugged it back in, still nothing.  I walked away (always a good idea in an argument), and then returned and tried it again and NADA.  So I did the only reasonable thing.  I punched it a couple of times, then kicked it and called it a choice name.  I turned around to see the round eyes of my child, along with the startled eyes of three giant dogs, who had never witnessed such nonsense out of me.  I did avoid crying in front of an audience, and went to sulk a bit in my office, bringing up “Appliances” at Home Depot (which is having 30% off through the first of the year, by the way).  I returned to my bedroom, sat a bit, prayed a bit, calmed down and told Cole I was sorry for punching the washer (I did not apologize to the washer).  Then something told me to go have a look in the laundry room.  That wall is the same shared wall to our main bathroom, so I figured something expensive had happened with the wiring, and at worse, a squirrel family was living in our attic and had gotten hungry.  I noticed there was a reset button on the giant outlet and I pushed it. VOILA, I had water running into my washer, and then my bathroom lights turned on.  Well. I had a lot of explaining to do, to Cole, to Allen (I had also texted him, because somehow my dying home could be his fault, somehow?), and for simply not being a very good example of not having enough faith, of not worrying about anything, but praying about everything.  God has always provided a way for me and Cole.  I always have some concrete ideas of what I expect that to look like, and sometimes they do, but most of the time they do not, but He has always provided.  We have a home, which that story is for another day about God’s amazing provision for me and Cole.  I have an amazing job that I love, which started out as an interview with a small college while I was still living in Fayetteville, not wanting to move to Batesville, but knowing somehow that my life was about to change dramatically.  The doors that blew open, placing me where I am today, is a pretty amazing story to tell too.  God has always made a way for us where there was no way at all, that I could see.

And my washer lives another day (despite the Rocky Balboa style beating it took). I am off to the gym to work off the rest of that anxiety I simply do not have ;).

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