Thursday, February 5, 2015

when the breath has left the room {and my hormones step in}

Breathing room.
I've been thinking a lot about it,
writing a lot about it,
talking a lot about it.
I've basically been beating it like a dead horse {in the most graceful way}.

I think it's helping because I am finding my own breathing room more and more these days.  But then again, sometimes
   I. FAIL. MISERABLY.


I trip right over my own feet and the best of intentions can't save me from falling flat on my face in a puddle of crazy.  In those moments the only thing I'm breathing out are threats, reprimands, demands, and probably a chocolate scent because I eat a lot of chocolate when I lose my breathing room.  All the while I'm looking ugly and gross dripping with mud from that puddle I just fell in.  When I say I get crazy I am not exaggerating.

Want to know one of the biggest enemies of my breathing room?
It's a little thing called
     P. M. S.
And they capitalize those letters because it is BIG and MEAN {and because it's an abbreviation...but mostly it's big and mean}.

Every month I tell myself I will not let it get the best of me next time.  And then I do.  I let it get the best of me
and my children
and my husband {my poor husband}
and the lady who holds up a line of 10 people at Hobby Lobby because she picked the ONE vase that doesn't have a price tag on it and she can't remember where she got it and then decides to go look for another one 'right quick' while my tiny little window of time ticks away and I frantically begin searching for some kind of air to breathe before I blow a gasket and shoot crazy all over the store and shatter that stupid vase in the process!!!
{deep breath}
I mean...hypothetically speaking.

Can you relate?  Maybe even just a little bit?
Maybe it's not the evil hormones that get the best of you.  Maybe it's annoying people or an inconsiderate boss or a parent who just doesn't 'get it' or a child who is in a season of chronic whining...

Here's the deal.  Being intentional about creating breathing room in your life is not a pass-fail kind of thing.  It's more of a do-the-best-you-can-and-then-cover-the-crazy-in-prayer kind of thing.

Emptying my life of less important things to be filled with more important things has been revolutionary for me not because I am 'getting it right' but because I am positioning myself in the right places to receive the grace God pours out.
He's always pouring.
I'm just not always in position.

If you get out of position, that's okay.  I do too.
A lot.
Especially when big, bad PMS starts cramping my style {pun intended}.  But here's what I've found.  When I'm out of position I am quicker to notice it now.  And I may have to drag my hormonal, angry self back where I belong but I will push up my sleeves and do it because there is a difference.

There is a difference for me, and my family, and that poor lady at Hobby Lobby when I grit my teeth and refuse to stay out of position.

Sometimes I have to force a deep breath - or two or three or ten - and slowly but surely the oxygen reaches my brain, the crazy fog clears, and I begin the slow drift back to that place of grace.

Yes, the emptying of lesser to be filled with better isn't always easy.
The good news about 'that time of the month', or whatever your current form of suffocation may be, is that they go right ahead and flip your cup upside down.
Contents spilled.

Empty of
my striving
my strength
my pride

Ready to be filled with
his grace
his peace
his truth

And suddenly my dirty, ugly {hormonal} self can breathe deep again and wipe the mud off my face.
I take very little credit for that.
I just get back in position
and he pours
and pours
and pours...