Introvert or What?

The other day a sweet, newer friend of mine invited me to coffee with some other moms.  And I wanted to go, but something held me back.

Help me out here . . . does anyone else ever feel this way?

I don't know what the hesitation is, but my thoughts usually go something like this . . .

I'd like to go out, but there's that downstairs closet that needs cleaning out.  And I really need to finish one of those paintings.  I promised Giggles I'd sew her teddy bear back together.  It's been ages since I scrubbed the bathtub.   Lesson plans need to be worked on.  Blah, blah, blah. 

Getting out of the house is vital when you're a stay-at-home mom!  Why in the world do I resist it?  I often think of those poor wives who moved west with their husband to settle.  Can you imagine day after day; no phone, no next-door neighbors, no internet.  Oh, yeah, and no town.  I'm thinking it may have been kind of difficult. 

It's like there's a weight of responsibility bearing down on me.  I don't feel like I deserve a break, and to be totally honest, I really don't feel like it's the right thing to do.  Yes, getting out makes you a better wife and mom.  Yes, it's healthy.  And yes, everyone deserves a chance for some relaxing, agenda-free girl time.  I get it in my head, but it's a process to start living it.  Again, can anyone relate?

Faith and Doubt

Yesterday morning I woke up, made breakfast for the kids, and ate a bagel.  Then I started cleaning the house and moping.  Why?  It was supposed to be the first half-marathon in a series of four I was going to do this month.  I was training with a great team and was so excited to raise money for hurting families in India.

Sigh.  A while back I mentioned having bursitis in my hip.  I was under the impression it would be a couple of weeks to heal, but the last word from the chiropracter (and later a physical therapist) was that it takes more like six months. 

I had no idea how this would hit me emotionally.  This morning I finally ended up talking to Ethan about it and it all became clear.  I realized that I've been doubting God for letting this happen to me.  That came as a total shock.  When our little boy died I didn't doubt God.  It was horrible; the worst thing I could imagine for anyone, yet I had complete faith in His plan for our lives and Isaac's life.  I had total peace.  When Bubba was diagnosed as autistic I was upset, but never doubted God or the direction our lives would take.  When I was hospitalized for three months with the pregnancy I didn't ask God why.  I didn't have to understand the details because I trusted in Him. 

Now, however, I'm having a crisis of faith over a running injury?  It seems a little ridiculous.  But it's so unfair.  I've never really been athletic, unless you count dancing.  To actually enjoy running, and not have given up the thousand times I wanted to roll back over and go to sleep again . . . it was something special. 

I realized that in the other difficulties we've gone through we've been covered in prayer by hundreds of people.  No wonder we had peace!  And yet during a struggle with this I feel like I'm going through it alone.  I can just hear my non-running friends thinking, Oh yeah . . . poor girl doesn't get to torture herself anymore.  :)  I get that!  I would have said the same thing a couple of years ago. 

I've realized that I'm blessed.  Lucky.  I've had the good fortune of having people love me and my family enough to pray for us.  What a gift!  And now that I've talked to Ethan, I realize that I need to be the one praying about peace.  About my attitude.  And hopefully the hip will heal while I learn this lesson. 


"May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in Him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit." 
-- Romans 15: 12-14   

My Running . . . Derailed

So I'm averaging one post a month this summer. Fantastic!

Sometimes you know that God is trying to tell you something. For me it seems to be "STOP RUNNING". Maybe I should explain . . .

A few weeks ago I started noticing a nagging pain in my hip. It happened shortly after Ethan and I ran 13.1 miles. That was my longest distance yet. I tried to back off on miles a little bit and went in to see a sports chiropractor. He recommended icing it and getting treatment. Well, ice is basically free so I went with that. I had just about decided to to call him for treatment yesterday because the pain wasn't improving (although I have not run in 1 week). Instead, our night went as follows:

I made stir-fry for dinner. Ethan had a late meeting so I was preparing to sit down and eat with the kids.

Bubba got super angry over something, who knows what, and threw a glass at the table.

I picked up all the pieces of the glass, getting a small shard in my thumb. Was totally annoyed about that.

Put the broken glass in the trash bag and sat down for dinner.

Ate dinner.

Started clearing the table and decided to take the trash out. Picked up the trash bag and went to cinch the top.

Broken glass falls over in the bag, breaks through, and falls on the top of my foot.

So there I was, staring at my foot and thinking Why can I see white?!

And then it hit me, I was looking at my bone. (Eeeeww.) I started feeling sick to my stomach and asked Spunky to grab my cell phone. Then I told the kids, "If mama passes out, it's totally okay. It's just because I'm looking at blood."

I called our neighbor, who is a former nurse, and she came over and advised me to go get stitches. (She probably would have stitched my foot herself but she's pretty advanced in age and doesn't have the best eyesight.) So, while Bubba ran around the house pulling off his sister's diaper and generally wreaking havoc I sat on the couch and waited for Ethan to get home. It wasn't a long wait, thankfully!

The doctor said it may be a few days before I'll want to run. Or a week or so. Maybe it's for the best; it will give the hip some time to heal. :)