Blogging. We finally have wifi and I am on our old computer, browsing blogs like the good old days in Maryland when my babies were small and they would play or watch t.v. and I would read blogs and write and cry and laugh and thank God for the internets.
One of my favorite bloggers has written a book and in celebration of such wonderfulness (bloggess turned official book writer), I am going to write and enjoy writing.
As you know, I have a killer headache. Killer. It's not killer all the time. Just whenever I think "I have a killer headache!" Which is about 60% of the time. Lately. I've gone through lots of stages with this headache- denial- this isn't here, anger- are you serious?, extreme anger- wanting to throw things anger (on a few occasions), submission- ok, what can I learn? and finally, today, humbleness.
Humbleness.
I jumped in the car tonight to grab a walking toy for Declan from a facebook yardsale group (the boy is nine months and so ready to walk! Why am I helping him?).
All day long my head has been hurting. All day long I have been icing it and trying my dang hardest not to complain and maintain normalcy. I even made carrot cookies with orange frosting and then dinner from scratch, all with a dang headache. With the kids. And homework. And a baby.
I was doing it. All by myself.
And I was so proud.
Until the car ride, when no one was around, and it was quiet and still, and it was just God and me.
And I knew I needed to head home and keep doing the same things I had been doing before.
I admitted to Him, that I can't do this on my own. I can't have a headache 24-7 without His help. I had had that conversation before. Many times. But this time it was different. I admitted to Him that I wouldn't try to do it without Him. Which I had been doing all day long.
Each time my headache reaches a level 6 or 7 (out of ten on a pain scale) I am going to turn to Him. I am going to ask Him to be with me (I did it. Just now.) To help me. To comfort me. To carry my burden, (as we know He has). Like He did the Nephites of old- he carried their burdens and made them light. I am not going to try to do it without Him any longer.
I can imagine His wounded hands comforting my hurting head.
And my burden can be made light.
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