So Many Voices

I know--I haven't written for a long time.  I'm sure both of the people who read this blog are super broken up about it (insert snarky laugh here).  Fact is, I'm still not at liberty to share the full and complete truth of the struggles I'm dealing with in my marriage and life for the whole Internet to see (even if it is through a semi-anonymous blog that can pretty easily be traced back to me).

That time is coming, and I can feel that it is, but until then, it's hard for me to be truthful and vulnerable without being entirely truthful and vulnerable.  Holding oneself back during a confession is awkward.  It doesn't come naturally for me to write that way, and so it's been easier for me to just do my writing in a place that I know is completely safe and private until I can start sharing more details in a completely open way.

So I've been avoiding you.  Sorry about that.

But tonight, I felt driven to write on here--for the first time in months, I knew I needed to share my voice again.

I've been keeping my voice mainly to myself and a few people who know me in person--which I think is what I needed to do.

But tonight--tonight is about me sharing my voice.

Tonight started out rough.  Let's face it--since last Saturday, when my husband and I had a confrontation that ended up with me feeling completely crazy, there have been a lot of rough nights that have been numbed mainly through lots of ice cream and binge-watching "The Office."

Tonight started out no different--due to a perfect storm of too many panic-inducing influences to even begin to name, all converging on me tonight, I was feeling a LOT of fear and sadness and anger coming up, and it all just kind of took advantage of the fact that I was home alone with a messy house and threatened to completely overwhelm me.

And for a while, I nearly let it.

I stress-cleaned and over-thought and snapped at the kids and took a break to be a good mom and read/pray/sing with the kids before sending them to bed and shamed myself about the dust on my piano and the gunk in my sink and worried about whether my husband was mad at me and then started stress-cleaning again, trying not to panic with the thoughts that were coming towards me with the speed and intensity of so many semi trucks barreling towards me at 115 miles per hour.

I called my sponsor--she didn't answer, but texted back to let me know that she was with family (Duh--I'm pretty sure I'm the only person in the country not with family on the night before Thanksgiving), and I felt inspired to text her back and let her know that I was feeling some fear and anxiety, but would work through it on my own.

I was surprised by my own answer--usually when I'm having such a panic attack, I feel drawn to call someone to help me through it, but tonight, I was feeling pulled in a completely different direction.

I have had so many voices in my life lately--Facebook voices, blog voices, family voices, friend voices, support group voices, loud voices, angry voices, quiet voices, shameful voices, peaceful voices, all of them from time to time helping me, hurting me, telling me what to do and what not to do, and while I know that my sponsor and several other members of my support system (including my husband at times), have been inspired of God before, tonight, I could feel Him telling me that He didn't want me listening to any other voices.  He wanted tonight to be about Him and me (and, apparently, you).

So, I let Him know that I wanted to finish cleaning/packing (we have an early morning tomorrow), and He patiently waited until I was done.  Then, after I finally stopped rushing around like a chicken with its head cut off and put down my to-do list, I listened while He spoke to me.

"Do some yoga," He said.  "On your own.  Don't use a video.  I want you listening only to your voice and My voice, not to the voice of an instructor."

So, I slathered myself in my essential oils that help me calm down, turned on a relaxing music station on my phone, and started a yoga workout.

He stopped me.  "Turn off the music.  I want you listening only to your voice and My voice, not the voices of whoever is singing."

So I did.  I turned off the music, took off my glasses so I wouldn't be appalled by the ridiculous amounts of dog hair embedded in my bedroom carpet (being legally blind has its perks), and started moving from pose to pose as I felt my body and my instinct telling me what I needed--Sun Salutation, Warrior Pose, Child's Pose, Happy Baby.

As I did so, I could feel myself calming, my instinct taking over and the voices of fear, guilt, shame, anger, bitterness--quieting in the background as I listened to myself breathing, moving, thinking.

At the end, Heavenly Father told me, "Now.  Be still."

So I was.  I was still, lying in Savasana, on my back, hands open to receive the revelation and knowledge my Heavenly Father wanted to give me, when thoughts started coming to my mind, unbidden and powerful in their truth.

"I am strong.

I am inspired.

I am beautiful.

I am enough.

I am enough!

I AM ENOUGH."

Of all the truths and voices and statements out there, that is the one that I needed to feel, hear, and know and that I feel compelled to share with you.  I am enough.  YOU are enough.  If you're reading this, that's God's number one message for you tonight.

Don't listen to the voices that tell you otherwise--that you need to be thinner, prettier, a better housekeeper/mother/wife/cook/runner/visiting teacher/crafter/seamstress/family historian.

You--as you are--are enough.

And so am I.