Right now I'm reading Angie Smith's book,
I Will Carry You, and I would highly recommend it if you're into the whole Christian women's book scene. Brief synopsis: its about the loss of her daughter, Audrey Caroline, and "the sacred dance of greif and joy." I heard Angie speak at the Women of Faith conference in Atlanta over the summer and I fell in love with her. I felt like I could relate to her from the second she walked up onto stage. Her exact words were: "those were the hardest 7 steps I've had to take." {about having up walk up on stage in front of the crowd} She shared about how she had struggled with living in fear for most of her life. One of her greatest fears was public speaking. HELLO....me too.
I just finished a chapter of her book where she tells of being rushed to the hospital when she was 4 years old because she battled with such overwhelming anxiety. Well, for those of you who know me...that's become something I struggle with as well. She talked about how her dad would have to walk her around the house every night before bed so she could make sure the doors were locked, the stove was turned off, and her sister was breathing in her crib. To some of you I'm sure that sounds absolutley absurd, but it struck such a cord with me.
I was a worrier as a kid too. I think mine came from watching too many episodes of Rescue 911. William Shatner's voice still makes me uneasy to this day. I would dream up every possible scenario that could go wrong and play it out in my head. Well- not much has changed. Sometimes my dad would have to go to work at night when I was younger and I would look at the clock and worry myself sick if he wasn't home by the time I had alotted in my head for his arrival back to the house. I would convince myself that he had gotten into a car wreck. Then, I would proceed to "page" him on his beeper (back when those were still around) or call him on his car phone (prehistoric reference again) just to make sure he was okay.
In the same chapter, Angie talked about her trip to Disney World as a kid. When she went into a little shop with stuffed animals she felt guilty for picking out just one because she was so worried about the other stuffed animals who didn't get chosen. Then she cried all the way home because she felt sorry for them. Once again- I can relate.
Much like the guilt over the stuffed animals, mine had to do with the school lunches my dad would pack. I distinctly remember NOT throwing away my empty ziplock baggies because I wanted my dad to see that I had eaten what he packed me. I felt like his feelings would be hurt if I threw away something he carefully selected to go in my lunch. If I had a half-eaten peanut butter and jelly sandwich, it would go back home so he could see that I ate some of it, maybe couldn't quite finish the rest, but was appreciative that he thought to pack me the sandwich. I'm not sure that I could describe it in those words when I was in elemetary school, but that was my thought process. It wasn't that I was trying to show him what a good eater I was, but rather, I felt that he would be hurt if I didnt' eat what he so thoughtfully packed. Looking back- I doubt that was the case, but that's how my little brain worked back then.
Another freak worry of mine was that someone was going to abduct my little sister when she was outside playing. If I thought about it hard enough, I'd have to walk out to the yard and call for her or walk a lap around the neighborhood just to make sure I saw her. Such a little mother hen I was. Oh, and I was also afraid of the garbage man. Laugh it up, Blair and mom. I know y'all remember that.
These days my worries have turned to more adult issues, but they are still there. I am still an anxious worrier. So...in a nutshell, this blog is for those of you who can relate. I know you're out there!
So here's to taking a few deep breaths, remembering that God is in control, and knowing that He wants us to lean on him when our troubles become too much to bear. I've been doing alot of leaning these days :) Trying to atleast.
Caroline
