Non-Medicated Rejuvenation

It should be no surprise to anyone that if you know me, you want to medicate me for anxiety. I am a high-strung, stressed out, over-achieving, unrelenting, pulse-pounding, non-sedatable workaholic. I can't relax for 20 minutes without waves of guilt crashing the shores of my soul. I also can't stop that annoying, flashing bright as neon lights, ticker tape of "to-do" lists running through my brain. My pulse is so electrifying that I almost taser my husband upon touching his hand, and the weather balls in the area are sending lightning warnings to the local meteorologists. No, there is not a storm approaching; that is just the electric shocks emanating from my heart as I attempt to deal with my strangely odd and all-to-familiar life.

My sister Angie approached me about a sister's weekend trip in August. After my initial reaction of endorphin-charged acid searing a new burn in my stomach lining, I exclaimed, "Awesome! Let's do it!" Who wouldn't be excited about a chance to check out on work and eat calorie-laden food without thinking of the cholesterol, fat, or carb content? Angie's persuasive plan struck accord with my exhausted ego, and I was in quick agreeance that we deserved a break; plus, the trip would not occur until two months in the future, thus allowing my pseudo alter ego (who is cool, calm, and collected...and no, you may not be friends with her) to rationalize that I would have plenty of time to get all my projects finished so I could enjoy a weekend free of diarrhea diapers and deviant child induced distress.

However, it appears as if the devil is keeping close tabs on me. That little demon and his associates are constantly following me around, taunting and teasing me, trying to trick me and trip me into their pitfalls of manic hysteria and pandemonium. Or maybe they aren't and I do a good job of that all by myself. But nonetheless...my health started declining days before my departure date and then Xavier came down with a fever. Of course the second-guessing and panic set in, but fortunately I was able to utilize choke hold restraints on it before it mangled the last living cells receiving oxygen in my brain.

Upon breathing non-inverted mountain air, my sinuses cleared up and so did my attitude. I had a chance to think about my life, and I truly believe that removing myself from the storm reminded me there is sunshine to be found on the planet; however, I may have to occasionally shift my weight or change positions to see it. My few days away gave me a more clear and fresh perspective, and injected me with the optimism I needed to return to my life and try my best to weather the calamities that are so liberally bestowed upon me and my little family.

I openly declare my life is complicated. I wish it didn't have to be. However, due to the choices I have made and the commitments I have honored, the imbalance has caused my own personal world to tilt upon its axis. I hestitate in questioning the Lord's motives, yet I do not understand why He has expected so much of me these past fourteen years. Sometimes, I wish I could be the class clown who didn't care about my final grade, but then we would be reading about someone else's life instead of my own. I have always pursued that elusive A+++++++, (you remember the one in A Christmas Story), and the Lord is going to make me stretch myself to the outer limits to achieve it. (Conversely, although I may possess a smooth appearance on the outside, I just hope He remembers I am not made of elastic or spandex.)

I remember back to the time when I was in grade school. My parents had an incentive plan in place to encourage my sisters and I to put forth our best effort in school. Skip and Kathy had the highest expectations for their daughters; they were forthright and consistent in communicating the conditions of their expectations. For example, if my sisters or I received all "A's" on a six-week report card, they would treat us to Dairy Queen for a small blizzard. (At the time, we had no idea we were being robbed...but that is a story for another day.) The point is, I knew what my reward would be and I wanted them to be proud of me so I always put forth my very best effort. I did not question their expectations or make excuses for my behavior if I fell short. In a way, I had an overwhelming sense of accomplishment because I could meet the non-negotiable standards befitting a Name girl, even surpassing those standards at times. Unfortunately, my test of life runs longer than individualized six-week increments and no one is offering me blizzards at regularly scheduled intervals. I wonder if at my final presentation and ultimate report card, I should ask for a blizzard. I sense the Lord may not offer me one, yet it would lighten the mood and perhaps lessen the heaviness of my more fallible qualities. Lightheartedness aside, I pray in spite of my occasional "F+" days, He may offer me something more valuable, perhaps something greater than the limits my veiled intelligence will permit me to perceive. On the other hand, if I prove to be less than celestial in my reckonings, as a parting gift I sure hope I can be ugraded to the medium sized blizzard. I really think I have earned it. Besides, who wants eternal life without treats? Eternal increase is one thing; milky, creamy goodness with a twist of caramelized chocolate is another.