Facing fear

Ty woke us Monday morning with more belly issues and continued fever but was much more concerned about the "loud storm". We cleaned up the tummy troubles and initiated "bedtime storm watch". Each of my kids have at one point or another been afraid of thunderstorms and my approach to facing that fear is to literally face that fear. We turn our pillows and quilts backward on the bed and open the blinds so we can watch the storm together, noting just how much cooler God's fireworks are than anything we've seen on the fourth of July. Ty decided he loves lightning but not "funder". Lots of cuddle time has taken place the last couple of days and we are relieved the 103 degree fevers are lower but would like to see an end to the other symptoms.



Preparing my home for overnight guests to arrive is insane. I know without doubt I wouldn't notice dust in someone's house but will pick apart every element of mine when welcoming others into it. Why do I do this to myself? There are times I would simply cringe if someone knocked on the door unexpectedly because I was not quite ready for them to see the very failed side of me; as if toys all over the house symbolizes failure anyway. I am so blessed to have authentic relationships where I could comfortably push piles of shoes out of the way of the threshold and invite friends into my chaotic world but I still struggle with insecurities with anything being out of place for people outside that comfort zone. I constantly have to remind myself that the people who live here deserve to live in peace without me frantically cleaning up behind their every move. What I really want is to be in control of my life. I want to feel like there are elements I can manage and manipulate into workable pliable situations. In reality, I can't control anything. Even a perfectly dusted house can succumb to fire, a wind storm or even less frightening, a toddler with Cheerios! And if I am being totally honest, even the simplest acts can be performed with the wrong heart. If I am trying to keep up perfect images, I am covering failed thoughts and heart issues. The total package isn't flawless skin, a fingerprint-free house with organic meals and well mannered children. I wasn't designed to be perfect. I was created to be used by God. That is a messy process and  includes a growth journey on the inside; the stuff you can only see in my reactions as I am placed under pressure. I have fooled myself into believing if I can keep everything on the outside looking good, what is going on in my heart is also good. It's a lie. There is nothing like mouthy teens, messy toddlers and a dirty dog to reveal those messes and the need for the process. If I can focus my attention on dirty floors, the real fears in my heart don't get attention. Like my son's fear of storms, most of mine are irrational. Others are very real. Neither can I control. Learning to lean on the Lord for "Life's storm watch" is an on-going journey for me. Fortunately, He promises to storm watch with me, making it a lot less frightening.