Panicky Adrenals and Yopping

Since Eric got his awesome job and we moved to NSL, I have had this weird problem of dealing with a body that is used to operating on the edges of survival mode not realizing it can down regulate. So even though life is not at all the same kind of stressful it was for years, it's like I can't turn it off. I've been working on it for over a year now, and while it's a lot better I still find myself getting surprised when it hits really strong at moments. I've also found it hits pretty hard on Sunday nights.

Today was Stake Conference, which meant that Eric and I both had a break from the many responsibilities and mental load of our callings. So of course I planned a dozen or so things we could do in that time, things like have interviews with the kids and an epic family executive counsel where we finish going over some stuff for my Self Reliance class, budgeting, planning for the summer, and other couple stuff. It's 9:32 and the house is trashed (because apparently when MaryLena plays quietly now, it means she is cutting paper into teeny tiny bits of confetti in every room of the house), we have a packed day tomorrow with the homeschool co-op that both Eric and I teach at, there are still dishes all over the kitchen, and I start to take stock of the week and everything, all the physical labor on my plate... and I could list a dozen of open ended things just around the house, a half dozen things on my list for Primary, another half dozen writing-related items, and then just kids' needs and homeschool and I just want to go on a date with my husband and catch a session at the temple.

And gummy bears. I really want gummy bears.

The thing is, this is nothing new. There is always several dozen things that feel on the verge of being urgent. And this doesn't always stress me out, except when it does. And then it's a shot of panic straight to my adrenals. I think about posting on FB or IG or snapchat what I'm feeling, but I never do. When it comes down to it, I'm not a status update kinda girl. My yop is too big for that, I need to equivocate and explain. It's not that I want to just throw up all over the page (even though this page is more vomit then usual), but I also find relief in carving some beauty in my words, it somehow makes the mundane less of a prison and more of a deliberate process I'm submitting to for higher ends.

I was reminded today that I should never fear the wilderness. And that God is in the details of my life. I don't feel like life right now is a wilderness, it feels very full of wonderful things. But it does feel a bit wild and not my promised land. I do feel like I'm "dwelling in a tent," like Lehi of old, in that I am impermanent and ready to pick up and follow the Lord to wherever is next. I do feel like the lesson of my life right now is to learn how to balance and breathe at the same time, to find peace during the storm. And to see God in the details, because BOY are there SO many details right now...

Thoughts on Easter and Peter

I began the year studying the Gospels and Acts. It was a nice, long prelude to Easter. Since General Conference, I began a new course of study suggested by President Russell M Nelson, to read every entry in the Topical Guide on Jesus Christ. And as we celebrated Easter Week and Easter day, I was right there in my reading, the Last Supper, the Crucifixion, the Resurrection, each author in his own words. I had done something similar before. This time, I got to also read about his Ascension. And I realized for the first time that both Mark and Luke end their accounts with the story of his Ascension. I was deeply moved. To me, their accounts highlight what a life looks like when it has been touched by the Risen Lord. There was "great joy" and they were "continually in the temple, praising and blessing God." Luke 24:50-53. They were liberated and wholly free, they "preached everywhere, the Lord working with them, and confirming the word with signs following." Mark 16:19-20.

Why do I say "wholly free"? I think of Peter, who I have so grown to love as an adult. How he had these deep, strong desires to enact the kind of faith he thought he had. Jumping out of the boat, slicing off a soldier's ear, and in so many other moments, he wanted with his whole self to be this person he could sort of envision. And Christ was continually gently guiding his enthusiasm, helping him grow, helping his faith get to a point where he could be all that he wanted to be. And that didn't come in Christ's lifetime. But his life touched by the Risen Lord was altogether different. Now his faith was mature, now his desires matched his abilities, now he was wholly free to serve and believe and be the kind of disciple he desperately wanted to be before. His tongue was loosed, his heart was confident, the way was sure. 

In the past, I have wondered if this difference in Peter had something to do with the gift of the Holy Ghost. And there might still be something in that. But now as a 30-something that has seen a few more trials, part of me just feels it is the natural process of the growth of the spirit and faith. All the miracles that Peter and other witnessed couldn't accelerate the process of gaining a testimony and setting an unbreakable foundation of discipleship. There is no fast track to being that person we want to be. It takes a lifetime. It takes a whole lotta stuff, trials, blessings, joy, misery. And maybe one of the symbols of the Resurrection is that life-long process of maturing and growing and messing up and trying again does find an end (death) and then a glorious rebirth. That it is possible to get out of an angsty place of uncertainty and to a majestically calm place of restful joy.

I love angsty Peter. I love how good his heart is. I love how pure his intentions are. And I love how the Lord loves him and guides him in his well-meaning but immature understanding (which is light years above me). All of that makes me love him all the more when he is the Rock, when he is out there leading and serving, when his doing his ACTs as an apostle. Which brings us to some thoughts about Faith without Works. In one sense, Peter was full of faith. But in another, he had not the faith of a grain of mustard seed because he could not yet do the work of faith. And maybe someday I'll find the words to write a poem about how up until the death of our Lord Jesus Christ, Peter's faith was without works and was dead. But in His Resurrection, Peter's faith and work became intensely alive. 

It gives me faith and hope that someday, through the same power, and in my own personal way, I will become the same, that my faith and work will be unified and alive.