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I am not sure that Callie understands or appreciates her mother's confinement or condition. She is used to being the center of attention with Sarah anticipating her every need. Mommy can't pick her up or take her outside to play. Callie seems confused when she gets hurt, and looks around for someone to hold her. She is having to grow up quickly.Meanwhile, a constant battle is raging in my mind, and it is exhausting. It goes something like this: Callie is tired and fussy and thirsty, so I put her next to her mama while I make something to drink. Instantly, I am off to the races! The starting bell rings, the gates open, and my mind speeds into the future. I hear four crying babies who are simultaneously tired and fussy and thirsty. My heart starts pounding. I analyze the best way to quickly divide and conquer this comfort-four-babies-while-preparing-sippy-cups problem. As I search for a sippy-cup lid stopper, I remember that the fussing number will be five (counting Callie), not four. That's when my head starts hurting. Filling a sippy cup can be overwhelming.
For many years, Tom had a horse named Missy. She was a beautiful, sorrel -colored horse--appendix bred (thoroughbred-quarter horse cross), barrel racing, big and FAST. She would start moving the second Tom's foot hit the stirrup, so she required constant control with strong reins. At first, I tried to be brave and ride her occasionally. Missy would grow tired of walking at my slow pace, so she'd suddenly take off and barrel race around trees, trying to brush me off in the process. The last time I rode her, someone forgot to close the barn door. Missy smelled the sweet feed and sped toward the barn. She tried to squeeze her 1200 lb. body through the little barn door with me on her back. Painful. That was my last ride. From then on, I admired Missy from a distance. Tom, however, loved Missy's challenge and speed. He rode her whenever possible.
One afternoon while I was washing the dishes, I kept hearing an odd sound. It was continual, a whining sound, but it would get louder and then fade, louder, fade, like a siren. Strange. Was it the neighbor's security system? I kept looking out the window, but didn't see anything. I decided to watch and wait. There it was again... Out of nowhere, Tom and Missy appeared and flew by the window. The spirited horse had jerked free of her reins and was barrel racing around the barn while Tom held on for dear life. I watched helplessly as she sped away, out of control. Soon enough, they came around again. As Tom went by, he yelled, "SONDRA--GET SOME GRAIN!" (Oh. That was the siren sound!) I hurried to the barn, grabbed the coffee can, and scooped up some feed. The next time they circled the barn, I held up the familiar can and shook it. Instantly Missy slammed on her brakes, trotted over and started eating.That was easy! Breathing heavily, Tom slowly straightened up in the saddle. He looked down into my eyes, frowned deeply, and growled, "What Took You So Long?!"
Every time my mind races with worry, I am wasting time and energy by borrowing trouble. I have to stop racing around the barn. God's Word provides the reins to control my thoughts before they get dangerously out of control. Prayer helps me stay on the path God has planned for me. Panic takes me on a detour. My job is to pull back, breathe deeply, and remember what I know. God is only asking me to give Him my best today. God gives me the strength I need for today. Worrying wastes that strength by focusing on what may or may not happen in the future. God's plan is best. It is what I want. I choose hope. I choose faith. God will provide what I need when I need it, just like He has every day of my life. So, here I go. Pray. Exhale. Relax. Fill the sippy cup.
The horse is made ready for the day of battle, but victory rests with the LORD.
Proverbs 21:31
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