Think, Think, Think

It’s all I do lately – I can’t seem to stop and focus on anything. As I sit here with P having breakfast together… kind of (her watching Super Why and me with my coffee attempting to get an orange slice or two in her mouth:) ) I replay last night. It was one of those again, where sleep comes in short spurts before I’m wide awake. I think I just wavered between completely knocked out and full consciousness or something. Family, Life, Grandma, Grandad, Work… wash, rinse, and repeat.

Our church started a 21 Day Fast last Monday – everyone who chooses to participate is fasting one thing or another. For some it’s coffee, for some maybe soda, for some tv or internet – for some they are doing a Daniel Fast. Even blogging about it here: Christ’s Place Blog.  It’s inspiring to read. It makes me feel like a failure. I was gung ho about all of this. I couldn’t wait, I’ve been anticipating for 6+ months that something like this would be coming. It was to be something that R and I could do together. Monday – it was the last thing on my mind. Tuesday – I tried to start, I wasn’t thinking straight and it was a burden. Wednesday – I still was trying, but decided to fast only meat and sugar because I was struggling. It wasn’t just the temptation, being hungry – none of that. It was/is a heart thing. I don’t know – maybe I just blew it. But when speaking with Raymonn after going shopping to help us out with the fast he kept mentioning how the fast was changing my attitude.

I broke down and told him I had called my Grandad to leave him a voicemail, I had to hear him again – even if it was only three little words, “This is Jim.” I have a wonderful husband – I told him how hard I was trying to be into this. He was so amazing, telling me that if emotionally I wasn’t in a place to do a 21 day fast then maybe just the two of us can do a 10 day fast. Just something together – us two. We’re starting next Wednesday on my way home from Tucson. Supporting each other and drawing close to God. He is so wonderful.

I am so darn competitive – with myself – that I still feel like I’ve failed for some reason. I hate that feeling. I hate myself for feeling like I’ve failed too – because then it’s almost in a weird way like I’m blaming circumstances, like I’m blaming Grandad – and that is what I hate the most. It’s a lie. It’s all a lie from the enemy. It’s one of those times when I need to just state truth. That’s what I need to keep doing I guess, going back to the Word. Which is exactly what Grandad would have wanted.

I love Prayse – she is into this thing when we go to bed that she’ll say who she wants to see tomorrow. “I want to go see… Misty! Abbey! Grandad! Grandma! Aunt Chelsea! Uncle Matt! Grandma-Great! And then I can see Grandad-Great this time right?” She’s asked a couple of times. It brings me to tears. It brings me to tears because I know eventually, she’ll stop asking. She accepts my answers readily enough when I tell her that Grandad-Great went to live with Jesus. He loved her so much, but she’s only two. Someday she’ll stop asking. It’s up to me to make sure she sees the pictures, grows up with the stories. Sees the home videos.  But she’ll still be living through my memories, and not hers. It’s the way of life I know. Strange enough, I was younger than her when my other Grandad died – I don’t remember the day to day, but I do have snippets of times with him. Just a few and they’re more like pictures or memories of sensations in my mind, knowing I was with him. I hope it’s the same for my babe.

Oh my, I could keep going on. Keep doing a brain dump, but life is calling. and Prayse has decided that she wants to sit with me and not on her own chair so I’m limited on personal space to keep typing I love that she wants me close. My little cuddlebug.