If you were a fan of "Designing Women," you might remember Bernice Clifton and her "small arterial flow problem above the neck." I've been feeling lately like I have a bit of a disconnect myself. There's no official diagnosis of dementia or anything (at least not yet; and I don't think the pregnancy brain that morphs into "mommy brain" has received recognition by the AMA yet).
I think my problem is more of a "hearterial" flow problem."
Recent months have been more trying and stressful than I care to admit even to myself. I've discovered that I can tell when I'm overwhelmed by life and circumstances by how freely the words flow. It's not that I don't want to share what I'm feeling, but there really does seem to be a blockage that prevents me from putting the emotions and thoughts into words.
When things are calm and I'm content, blog entries and book ideas find their way from heart to hard drive almost effortlessly. But when things are difficult and I'm feeling tense and troubled, my mind can't seem to access the words brewing in my core.
I've come to admire writers who can experience their trials and and distill them down into thoughts. Thoughts that can be shared as blog entries, as poetry, as song.
At the very center of my difficulties, I do always carry a sense that God is in control and it will be ok in the end (ok doesn't mean that I always get what I want or that all will be joy and happiness as time goes on). I know there's a difference between peace and happiness. Happiness is grand, but peace permeates so much more of who we are and how we feel. Happiness is kind of a place we visit, but peace can be where we live, despite our circumstances.
I want to learn to be more like the psalmist and even some of the prophets who were able to say, in essence, "Lord, this stinks. I hate how things are going. I don't see the fairness or justice or silver lining ahead. But You are God, you hold all these things in Your hands. You hold me in Your hands. I will rest in you."