A new day welcomed itself and the sun beamed its narrow rays across the living room though the cracks of the mini blinds. Her mind told her to race but her heart told her to slow down and start with the top three things on her list and go from there.
Starting a wash cycle, she scurried from one end of the house picking up odds and ends on her way to the other end, quickly finding the proper place for the previous day’s scattered items.
One day maybe the entire house would look in tact for a whole 24 hours. One day.
Starting the older child on his homework somewhere quiet so he could f-o-c-u-s, she got the little one in the tub and came running to calm the middle one down as a meltdown was about to ensue.
It was hard not to let her mind wonder to an unhealthy place at this point in her life. A land far away, not flowing with milk and honey. To compare her family to other families.
Most days it was subconscious. But this was her downfall.
She shoved daggers into her heart daily when she dwelt on what she didn’t have.
The husband who was there.
The kids who could read by themselves and didn’t want to lock horns because they couldn’t quite grasp the desired level yet.
The car that didn’t have issues.
Pets. Pets..maybe they could help…
She could have gone on and on but these envious devices were deadly to her soul and spirit. When she stole time from being grateful, this was what became normal.
And the frustrations that started so small grew into a swamp of sludge in her heart that almost kept her down for over a year.
She knew there was a better way to live. To thrive and not just survive. Internally.
She grew up in church and knew the Right Way. She knew she had a choice of life and death. She knew a lot of things but getting to there from where she was remained out of reach, so it seemed.
Each time she would go to pray, all she could seem to do was cry or utter help. Her joy was gone and she felt lost. To make matters worse, she couldn’t really open up to people. Call it a mix between a fear and pride.
She wanted others to think good things about her husband, or not think she was complaining. So she kept stuffing it. Down, down, down.
There were ups too. But for a lot of that year there wasn’t a lot of focusing on the good. It was a downward spiral and it was starting to show on her externally. Anytime someone would ask a certain question, her reaction more than likely told it all and it was like a race to get.out.of.there.
Away from people. Where they couldn’t see her face.
Where they wouldn’t be able to read her like a book.
If not, there was a fight to put on the mask, to hide the real insecurities that lie within.
The pride lie that held her captive was that she had been raised in church and should know better.
She always should have known better.
Shame on you. Said the voice.
Grow up. Said the voice.
You are annoying to them. Said the voice.
Just stay home so you won’t get in their way or hurt another person. Said the voice.
It wouldn’t be until way later that these voices wouldn’t have that kind of hold on her. Looking back at them now, she can clearly see they were voices bringing up the past and trying to make them current.
But the only “current” she was experiencing right now was the current that was taking her under.
She closed her eyes and tried to block out the negative. But that was just it.
Blocking it out wasn’t bringing healing. It was making it worse because it was like a band-aid for the moment.
Her phone beeped. A text from a friend. Just in time.
Thank you, Lord.
You are reading Part 3 of The Trucker’s Wife
Copyright ©2016 by Meghan Weyerbacher
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Today will you check out Kelly Baker’s blog? She writes from a place of transparency, sharing how God is using seasons of her life for purpose and growth. Thank you, Kelly for reaching out to me on social media and for linking up here. You are a blessing indeed!
To read the first post in this series, click here.
To read the previous, click here.
Linking up at #TellHisStory today~