Every day contains a mixture of emotions.  Our first impulse upon waking can be the need for more time to sleep or the urgency of getting to the bathroom.  From there on decisions have to be made.  What should I wear? Did I wear that a few days ago?  What should I have for breakfast?  No time – I spent too much time trying to decide what to wear.

Get the kids off to school – did you pack their lunches? This is a dream I continue to have, in which I always forget to pack lunches.  They no longer require me to do so, but the nightmare has haunted me even until this day.  There must be some psychological reason for that.

Once on the job, we continue to struggle to make difficult decisions, face serious problems and feel like we’re on an emotional roller coaster.  It doesn’t end when you punch the time clock.  When you arrive home, you are faced with a millions choices to make.  What should we have for dinner?  Why didn’t I stock up at the grocery store before coming home?  Will I have time to make it to daughter’s dance lessons and drop off my son for football practice?  Did I feed the dog?

OK, these are pretty mundane emotional ups and downs.  How about this?  Will I get good results from the doctor?  What if the lump is still there?  How will my family deal with this?  I lost my job, now what do I do?  What will we do if we have to bring mother in to our house to live?  How do I handle dementia?  My friend is facing divorce.  What do I tell her?  How can I help when I have so many things on my own plate?  The world is filled with nothing but bad news.  How can I remain positive?  How do I soothe my child’s being bullied at school?

I could go on and on about the every day crises we face, but I don’t want this to be a depressing post. Jesus gave us a solution to this dilemma when He said, “Come unto me, you who are heavy laden and I will give you rest.  Those words don’t always cut it when you’re facing foreclosure and bankruptcy or  you just discovered your mate is having an affair.  Our first impulse is to try and figure things out for ourselves.  It might even seem like a cop out to just say that God will take care of things.  We have this inborn need to be in charge of our own destiny.

God isn’t telling us to not be involved in these things, but He’s inviting us to turn to Him first.  We really need to surrender to His will in every area of our living.  He has promised to give us the answers we need if we trust in His wisdom, love and power FIRST.

About atimetoshare.me

As I reach the end of my years, I find I have a lot of good information stored up in this old decrepit mind of mine. If I don't write it all down, it may vanish and no one will have the advantage of my thoughts. This is why this blog exists. I love the Lord, Jesus with all my heart and soul. I know I'm undeserving of all He's done for me, but I also know that His love is beyond my comprehension. I've always wanted to write. I never kept diaries, but tucked my thoughts in my head for future reference. I use them now in creating stories, plays, poetry and my blog. I continue to learn every day. I believe the compilation of our time spent with God will have huge affect on the way we live. I know I'm a sinner and I need a Savior. I have One through Jesus, Christ. My book, "Stages - a memoir," is about the seven stages of life from the perspective of a woman. It addresses all the things girls and women go through in life as they travel it with Jesus, and it is available on Amazon.com.
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  1. I feel like that’s a picture of me as I’m babysitting the wild one!!!!

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  2. hatrack4 says:

    My version of your roller coaster will be featured in my testimony in October, but we’ve had many of the downs that you have mentioned. Hmmm, not many ups. You talked about what was for supper. My wife has been really bad sick for the past week, now on a nebulizer since the other treatment wasn’t working. In the past, she would say “Fiesta!” That was my signal that she isn’t feeling fine and I should forage for food from the fridge. Oh, how I love alliteration. But while sick enough that she should have been in the hospital, she fixed supper every night. She didn’t want to say “Fiesta.” It would seem like she was giving up. And yes, I protested, and occasionally helped, but it’s a small kitchen.

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