Thursday, April 10, 2008

Dear me....

Dear Samantha,

It's after 1am again and you're worrying...again. Why, oh why, do you wait until the middle of the night to worry? I have to tell you, it's a good thing that it's Spring Break because you'd be toast tomorrow if you had to go to school! Oh my gosh, you have to get some sleep, girl.

And you have to quit worrying.

I've been watching you for a long time and I have begun to notice a pattern--you're starting to get it, too. Here's what happens when you get stressed out:

a) You think you're dying again. Every time. Today, it was the routine mammogram. Next week you'll be researching the benefits of lobotomy. Or not. Thankfully you've learned to NEVER research anything medical online. NEVER. At any rate, fortunately today's outward example of your inner fear was covered by insurance. Our shelf of unused vitamins are testament to previous bouts of fear induced by...fear.

b) You pick petty fights with your boy Don, one of the best guys around. And generally, he doesn't take the bait. BIG bonus in getting him for a mate. Doesn't get angry easily. Also doesn't take well to being yelled at in the yard. That's another thing I've watched you do: you get scared and you'll take that fight outside. Poor guy didn't do a thing.

c) You eat. Or get completely nauseated. 'Nuf said.

d) You stay UP. You will lie there on those perfectly miraculous sheets (the ones that everyone in the family, on Don's side, has-- the ones we call "weekend sheets" because they are only safe for mornings when you don't have to get out of bed. Luxurious.) beside a sweet husband and toss and turn and get up to watch 5 hours of TLC. Or Discovery. Anything. Fortunately for you, insomnia is the last thing that hits you-- some people live like this.

Samantha, please try to practice what you preach: trust the Lord. You have prayed repeatedly over all of this stuff. So all the money you've been saving is being [what you feel is] frittered away. You finally HAVE it. You can pay some stuff off. You can use it toward a house... toward past due medical bills...toward student loans. And don't give me that line that this list is making you tired. You have a great job-- paying for this stuff is just part of the wonder of it all!!! What you do when you aren't spending your money is what counts, sister. Relationship. And God has blessed you richly, right?

So I need you to go back to bed. Yay for you that you just paid an enormous amount of money on a student loan-- don't fret. Someone will help you figure out that hot mess (as the kids say) tomorrow. Lock you into some 30 year consolidated thingy. Make your payments less than something like a million a month. Don't worry. Don't worry. Don't worry.

Go back to bed and put mammograms and (ouch) aching...chests... out of your mind. You and I both know that there was nothing there. That you do this every time.

Go back to bed and thank sweet Jesus for setting you free from smoking, and even the desire. Thank Him that it's not what you reach for and haven't in, what, 12 years?

Go back to bed-- you did your quickie budget, finally. MONTHS after Ramsey told you to do it.

Go back to bed and say hush to the thoughts that would rear themselves up in the face of God and say, "Ha! I'm bigger than you." They are shadows on the wall cast by mice. You sought the Lord and He opened doors, and the if/then principle applies to this: "Unless the Lord builds the house they labor in vain to try at all, building anything not according to His call." If that is true, if the Lord does build the house, then the labor is not in vain.

I have noticed that you do these things, but I have also noticed that you eventually get it back on track. You're growing up, I suspect, at last. Breathe deep and ask the Lord to calm that pounding in your chest-- He will provide as He always has. He already has provided. Don't you see? Does He ever change? Nuh-uh.

And anyway, weren't you meant to be seeking first His kingdom? Seek it sister.

And go to bed.
love,
me

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