Spring Awakenings

    Normally, I'm able to wake in the morning with a get out and go zeal, singing like a "morning bird." But in the past days I'm come to consciousness with a sense of uneasiness and dissatisfaction with relationships and life.  Remnants of disturbing dreams mock me when I awaken.
    Today before I moved my hands to pull back sheets, I chose to praise God for the joys of Saturday, the day prior.  I anticipated and gave thanks for the joys of that morning, my first Easter with my mother gone.
    Yesterday carried such an extreme range of emotions. Exuberance at the beauty of the day, elation as I sang songs commemorating Christ's coming to life again, and enthusiastic belief and acceptance that God indeed was making my life new.  The warmth I felt for a woman I encountered at church, a woman who has shown herself controlling and dominating, surprised me. That I could feel love genuine for her gave me a sense that I am indeed being changed by Jesus. And that is good news indeed.
    But also in the quiet moments at home I felt quite hurt. Though I knew rationally that I shouldn't be feeling this way,  a sense of rejection and exclusion came over me.  I was saddened, even angered a ibt, that my kids weren't doing things my way.  Instead of choosing to be with me in the kitchen or to have some family time, the two of them played and giggled together as they did egg hunts for each other, took photos and then viewed them on the lap top.
    Rationally, I knew this was a wonderful thing.  They get along with each other! They enjoy each other! This is what I've prayed for.  It's a marvelous thing, something I didn't experience much in my days of hunting for Easter eggs.
     (And, in case my kids read this, please understand I'm speaking "Venetian" here - over generalizations, how I "feel" about it, not necessarily exactly what happened. In many ways my teens did try to please and honor me.)
    I didn't express to my daughters my sense of hurt and rejection.  Instead, I went outside and studied the tall, frilly irises.  I cried, I grieved, I thought about when I first felt this sense of being excluded. 
    It wasn't with those with me today, but with a two-some within my family.  Grief poses in these childhood emotions resurfacing.  Being  in counselling also causes these emotions to well up. Emotions that I cut off and didn't experience when I was a child up now rise up out of their graves and haunt me.
     I don't want to become like my mother.  I don't want to channel my fear of losing relationships into destructive attempts to control or withdrawal. So I need to feel what's at the root and bring that to Jesus.  I wrestled with that all afternoon.
    Before our 5:30 dinner I asked God to help to be fully emotionally present when a friend came over to join us and in our family time afterwords.  My kids have complained some lately about my body being there but not mind and heart.  They sense that  I'm living in the moment, but isntead mulling over other relationships or my lists of things to do.  This is bad.  This is a destructive way to handle grief.
    God answered my prayer that I could be present. Time with my friend was good and we ended with prayer.
    At 8 pm, after dishes were done, two of us in the Park family took turns being royalty- a new "game" suggested in a magazine. (The other two Park players will take their turns on another occasion.).
    Sheri joyfully employed her half an hour as princess to become an Irish dance teacher with us three bumbling dancers.  Delight filled her face as she ordered us in complicated steps, and then in progressively simpler ones as she saw how hard it was for us.  After some consternation and initial resistance from Jenny, we all had fun following her lead.
    In Jenny's turn to be princess, she asked for bedtime stories from Collin. We all lounged on couches and easy chair in the living room while Collin read three Bernstein Bears book to us.  I hadn't heard those (and hadn't missed it) for years! I became so relaxed I extended back my green leather chair and grabbed a few minutes of snoozing.  I felt warm and connected with my family after giving our children the freedom to be royalty for thirty minutes each.
    I went to bed more convinced than ever how much I need Christ to save me.  He only is the one to save me from from myself.  Left to myself I would resort to always working or distracting myself from emotions I need to feel and tend too. 
     Jesus only can give me the strength and courage to embrace humility and to let others have their freedom and choices,  Even when those I count on don't recognize what I think I need or want.
     He only can give me the reassurance I so crave. In the end, I am loved.