I think my pastor is sneaking into my house and reading my journal. I don't mean that in a creepy way; rather in a once-again-he-said-exactly-what-I-needed-to-hear kind of way. Here are my take-aways from yesterday's sermon:
From Bonhoeffer: "People try to do for themselves what they expect God not to do."
From Deneff: "People who worry constantly underestimate the Father's love for them."
He did some exegesis on the Sermon on the Mount where Jesus says, "Do not worry." He expounds upon the Greek to give a more nuanced understanding of the phrase. We could read this phrase as, "You don't have to worry." It's not that worry is a sin necessarily, but that it's useless to worry. So I can worry if I want to...it just won't do any good. I don't have to worry. Wonderful, wonderful reminder to focus on the present.
These words were needed last night as poor Sam battled a night terror on top of his difficulty breathing. Rushing to a child having a night terror only frightens him and we've been told to wait in the doorway while he fights it out to make sure he doesn't hurt himself. Only after the night terror passes can we comfort him. Going to him too early only makes things worse. We've been reassured that Sam has no memory of the terrors when they are finished (and Sam has confirmed this). Nevertheless, it breaks my heart to hear him calling, "No! No! Mommy! I want my Mommy!" and know that if he sees me it will only make things worse.
So last night I stood in his doorway while he cried. I stood and prayed. I stood and reminded myself, "He won't remember this. He won't remember this." And when the terror passed and he began calling, "Hold me, Mommy," I ran to him and rocked him for a bit while we discussed animals that can see in the dark.
These words were needed late last night when I realized I was sick. Sick. Sick. Sick. As in barely able to get out of bed, head explodes when I move sick. (Lucky for you you cannot pick up tone through the Internet because my current state of whininess would make you cringe). I'm thankful it's Memorial Day so John is available to watch the kids. I'm annoyed that it's Memorial Day because every single doctor's office is closed. Someone has a case of the Mondays.
I've found the easiest way for me to be present in the moment is to simply repeat what it is I'm presently doing--almost as a mantra.
"Nurse. Nurse. Nurse."
"Drink. Drink. Drink.
"Stairs. Stairs. Stairs."
And after I hit "Publish Post" it will be "Sleep. Sleep. Sleep."
I don't have to worry.