One of my go-to coping mechanisms is rules. As my daughter has been in recovery, I’ve learned all about food rules and how many I still follow, despite my own “recovery” years ago at age 14.
Even though I’ve come a long way with food rules, as I was doing my devotions the other day, I was struck by something else. My brain made a connection, and it said to me, “WAIT A MINUTE. I’ve seen this pattern before and it didn’t have to do with food. Where else are there unnecessary rules in my life?”
And I thought about when I first got married; how obsessed I was with making our small basement apartment neat and tidy. One of the habits I tried to develop was to finish every little bit of laundry (even ironing napkins!) EVERY WEEK. I felt I had to keep up the ritual of being tidy so I could consider myself a competent wife (I have a lifelong habit of being messy). I wanted to erase my feeling of inadequacy by turning over a...
Several years ago, my son made the travel baseball team. It was a dream of his to be on this team. He tried out three different times before he finally got accepted. Baseball quickly became everything to him. He went to every practice, every game, and took private lessons. He gave it all he had, plus some. A year later, he was cut from the team after the coach promised there would be no cuts made. I remember the night we had to tell him, and how he crumbled to the floor in tears. His world had been shattered after he had given everything to it.
That night, I crawled in bed with him. I held him close to me and felt his warm tears run down my arm. I thought about the evening and the events that led up to it. Were there lessons to be learned? Sure. But at that moment, in bed with him, only one thing mattered- I needed him to feel my arms around him, I needed him to know he was loved and to know I wasn’t going anywhere until I knew he was OK.
Friends, in...
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