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A is for ANXIETY (Catholic Mom)


Sarah Hart

A is for ANXIETY

ABC Blocks

Our family ran all day yesterday; it was non-stop. There was the early morning chaos of errands, then two afternoon birthday parties. And we had a late night last night. We went out to see old friends (for another birthday party) whom we had not seen in years, and our kids stayed with some other friends until we could pick them up at 9:30. When we got there, the kids were bouncing off the walls, and when we got home there was much weeping and screaming. "I'm NOT tired!"

"But you HAVE to get up in the morning for Religious Ed. GO TO BED!" I ordered. "This is a BIG year. First Communion. You can't miss a class, sweetie. And I love you."

And then came the morning. We slept in; I freaked out. Running to wake up my near comatose 7-year-old, shoveling an Eggo pancake into her mouth, frantically throwing on her clothes. Panicking — as if the RE Police might show up on my doorstep. "You've got to get going, honey!" My little one did not move. "Kevin, you're going to have to take Addie to church since you've actually had a shower; I will stay with Ev" (still motionless...).

Watching them leave together, and listening as Evie snored on, all I could think about was what a horrible mom I was: not forcing my little one awake, too, and out the door, and to Religious Ed, no matter what. Those feelings of "I'm not really setting a good Christian example here" set in; the guilt of shuffling Addie out the door in a mad rush, syrup still dangling from her lip, oh heavens — did she brush her teeth? — and the other one still snoozing through it all. No Eucharist for me, either (a pretty selfish thought...).

Okay, but I could give myself (and my hubby) just a little credit for at least getting Addie to class, right? In a very important year of her life. Maybe Evie really needed that extra sleep to make it through the week? Maybe God could forgive me the insanities of parenthood? Just this once? Or twice? Or, whatever...

A is for AMAZING GRACE

So, I fall short of God's glory. No surprise there! I will never be a perfect mom, or wife, or teacher, friend, coach, employee, anything. Only perfect in the sight of God, who made me as I am, and loves me as I am, even when I fail . . . which is pretty much a daily occurrence. Thank you, Jesus.

A is for ACTS 2: 25-27 (the author quoting the psalmist)

David said it all:
"I saw God before me for all time.
Nothing can shake me; he's right by my side.
I'm glad from the inside out, ecstatic;
I've pitched my tent in the land of hope."

I'm learning to pitch my mom tent there, too, in that hope-filled place where anxiety and amazing grace somehow find one another.


 

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