worrier or warrior: what kind of woman am i?

confession: lately, i am a middle-of-the-night worrier.

2 am and you'll find me and my touch of insomnia camped out with a couple of concerns.

wondering.
wrestling.
worrying.

most people who know me, would be surprised. maybe even tell you, "but she seems to take things in stride ... she appears to be pretty easy going ... she's not at all the anxious type ..."

and i'm not.
not in daylight, at least.

mother of five or just the way i'm wired, but in the middle of the day, i'm pretty good. i'm pretty low key. in fact, it is possible that i might worry less than the average mama.  my older kids have even questioned me about my low level of concern on certain matters: "mom aren't you going to DO SOMETHING ABOUT THAT? mom, are you really OKAY WITH THAT?"
(because let's be clear: teenagers know so much more than we do).

and, for some reason, usually, i am.
i am OKAY. WITH. THAT. usually.

but 2 am ... 3 am ... 4 am ... and, friends, it's a different story.

it's the availability of my mind.
it's the absence of busy-ness.
it's the attack of the evil one.

and too often, i fall prey.
and too often, i fail to pray.

in the dark of the night, under the covers of my controlling-self, i wallow in the what-ifs and the what-thens and the what-nows. i try to solve problems and fix issues and process the pieces of painful issues. of life. of sin. of failure. of fear. of the future.

i worry about big things like the hardness of a child's heart.
and ... i worry about ridiculous things like is that the right color beige on the family room wall.

all of it ... fair game.
all of it ... creeping into the corners of this mother's mind.
                                                            -----  in the middle of her night.

and, i'll admit, when this happens and these thoughts try to overtake me, my faith feels kinda small.
pathetic.
weak. wimpy. wanting.
heck, it seems almost un-christian.
what kind of woman of God is she if she worries like this at the 2am hour?

i mean, where is the cool-facade from my daylight?
where is the complete confidence in my Deliverer?
i know the scripture and i know the Savior, but what happens when the day ends and the sleep eludes and the worries evolve?

what then?

"for though we walk in the flesh, we are not waging war according to the flesh. for the weapons of our warfare are not of the flesh but have divine power to destroy strongholds. we destroy arguments and every lofty opinion raised against the knowledge of God, and take every thought captive to obey Christ..." ~ 2 corinthians 10:3-5

AND TAKE EVERY THOUGHT CAPTIVE.

without the escape of an errand or the distraction of a daily chore, the chinks in our armor become more obvious, more out of control. glaring.
and, let's be honest, it's easy to feel vulnerable and afraid in the stillness of ourselves.

i don't care if you're 14 or 40, it's in those dark hours that our faith can falter.

what keeps you awake at night?
what seeps into your sleepless hours?
what doubts and concerns and worries are wild within you?

many years ago, when our oldest, emily, struggled with sleep and anxious thoughts, i was desperate to help her. i did what any crazy mother would do: i modge-podged a bible verse onto a plaque and hung it over her little girl bed.

it wasn't a magical fix, but it was a reminder that God doesn't expect us to just muddle through our midnights.
no, He has something better for us --- sweet sleep.

"when you lie down, you will not be afraid;
when you lie down, your sleep will be sweet." ~ proverbs  3:24

so, now this mama is struggling. and what should i do? go make myself a plaque ... hang it over my bed? rub my hand over it three times before hitting the pillow? chant? dance? drink warm milk?

we know it's not about the plaque ... but it is about the promise.

and as much as i want to, i just can't give you (or me!) a neatly packaged 10 perfect steps ...

i can't pretend there's an easy fix ... except fixing our eyes hard on Him.
because as long as we wrestle there in the middle of the night and believe it's all about us and our problems and our pain ... we remain captive to our concerns.

c a p t i v e

{i speak from experience}.

are you shaking your head like i am?

are you also a dark-hour doubter?

then friend, if you, like me, find yourself in this camp, maybe it's time we turn our worrier selves into warriors. it's time we turn our worry-camp into a campaign. it's time we TAKE CAPTIVE every thought. we FIGHT with the weapons of our faith. we don't continue to cower beneath the blankets of our burdens, but we SECURE sweet sleep and CLAIM His power and His promises.

you know, Jesus is pretty clear about how this is all going down. He didn't bring up the "full armor of God" because He thought it a clever costume. it wasn't a nice suggestion, but necessary for survival.

"put on the full armor of Christ..." there's no might or maybe.

"Finally, be strong in the Lord and in his mighty power. Put on the full armor of God, so that you can take your stand against the devil’s schemes.  For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms. Therefore put on the full armor of God, so that when the day of evil comes, you may be able to stand your ground, and after you have done everything, to stand. Stand firm then, with the belt of truth buckled around your waist, with the breastplate of righteousness in place, and with your feet fitted with the readiness that comes from the gospel of peace. In addition to all this, take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one. Take the helmet of salvation and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God." ~  ephesians 6:10-18

so, i may have started this post with a confession, but i am ending with a campaign:

worrier or warrior: what kind of woman am i?

join me in this august for daily scripture and encouragement -- friends, join me for battle!

note:  i usually try to include some photography in these series, but i'll need a little wiggle room this time around. there's no telling what kind of photos i'll include -- my arsenal of weapons is a little lacking (and for that matter, it's not like i really want to photograph weapons -- just not my thing). i'll work on that!

i'm not sure what this will look like, but when i finish pounding out this post, i'm going to begin asking the Lord to speak into this campaign. and, you know what? He's got everything it takes to succeed.

"the LORD will fight for you, and you have only to be silent.”  ~ exodus 14:14

are you in?

in the shouting of the day ...
in the silence of the night ...

the Lord will fight for you.

a hard day

yesterday was hard.  there is just no way around that word sometimes.  hard.  the day caught me off guard.  i woke with plans for one kind of outcome, and instead ended up with an entirely different kind.  but isn't that the way it goes every now and then?


that morning, i waltzed into my surgeon's office wearing real clothing,  jewelry, makeup and a smile.   i was determined to make sure everyone took notice of how well i was doing.  fighting.  surviving.  living.  five days out of surgery and pridefully i wanted this man to look at me and say, "wow!"  must my pride always rear its ugly head?  must i always be in pursuit of high marks...good grades...and words of praise?  am i really going to turn something like my illness, my recovery and my health into some kind of twisted competition?   but that was exactly where i was headed yesterday morning.  things changed however. things do.


initially dr. woods did seem a bit surprised, and even pleased, with how well i was doing.  how good things looked.  how big my smile.  but i watched his expression shift as i began to recount for him my self-decided milestones.  all of a sudden this renowned doctor's countenance darkened.  his eyebrows furrowed.  his mouth frowned.  and i could visibly see his seriousness as he decided to put me in my place.  "jody, let's talk about the risk factors here.  jody, let's talk about just what will happen if you don't take it easy.  extremely easy.  jody, let's talk about why your situation is a bit riskier than the normal recovery."


when he had visited me in the hospital, post surgery, he had kindly reiterated the fact that i would have to be gentle with myself.   he breezed over my boundaries and made sure i understood how very little i should do once home.   he spelled it out in a lovely, but fuzzy,  visit with my husband and me in room 246.  but after our opening discussion in his office yesterday he realized he was dealing with someone who might be slightly in need of more direction.  he would need to be firmer.  louder.  clearer.  no more mr. nice guy.  it wasn't that i was attempting to be flippant, reckless or cavalier in any way.  i have a deep and decided respect for the medical profession and their recommendations.  but i am walking a tenuous line here.  this line which on one side tells me to have a fighting spirit and a positive attitude and a dig-deep mentality and which on the other side uses words such as prudent, easy, careful, cautious.    i am telling you, it didn't take breast cancer for me to realize i am sometimes quite challenged with this balance.  and the bottom line is i am headstrong and stubborn and hate to be dependent on others for anything.  yes, pride. always pride.


so there i sat on this doctor's examining table,  feeling greatly exposed and, honestly, a little sheepish.  he wasn't messing around and he was doing everything he could to make sure i understood this.   i had not only had a bilateral mastectomy five days earlier, but in the same day of surgery i was reconstructed.  so my body is literally recovering from two types of major surgery.  recovering in two different directions.  on one hand we have the trauma of amputation and on the other hand we have the tenderness of rebuilding.  there are lots of stitches and sutures and pressure.  and it all needs to be perfectly in place and well protected.  this is not a time to prove anything to anyone.  this is not a time to show my athletic prowess or my positive outlook.  this is a time to be careful.  now before you think i was doing pull ups or playing a tennis match, i assure you nothing of the sort was taking place.   but i was probably skirting the edge a little,  as i am known to do.  when the scolding ceased,  i slunk out of his office outfitted in a cloud of uncomfortable sobriety.  my tail absolutely between my legs.  and suddenly my jewelry and lipstick felt a bit foolish.


from that appointment we went directly to meet with the genetic counselor.   so if my cheery discussion with dr. woods hadn't completely grabbed hold of my attention, the next discussion of my DNA and my genetic mutations certainly sealed the deal.   my friend, meritt, and my sister, jess, and i sat across the desk from the counselor and had a great big, lovely conversation about genes and mutations and statistics and probabilities  and results.    for my biology-brained-science-teaching sister, this was somewhat fascinating.  she sat there, on the edge of her seat,  taking notes and asking questions and absorbing all of it.  i won't say she had a glimmer in her eye and i won't say she was completely in her element...but she was close.  if this hadn't been her sister and her own family history we were talking about, i am sure i could have described her as enthusiastic.    i listened to the dialogue between jess and our genetic guru and i had to pinch myself a time or two to stay with them.  to keep tracking.  but it was hard.   i kept thinking about lunch and my next dose of pain medication.  the horizontal blinds in the office were hurting my eyes and what i really wanted to do was eat some kind of casserole, take a couple percocet and lay down my head - carefully, of course.    instead i was asked to swish my mouth with scope three times and leave samples of my DNA (spit) in a plastic vial placed before me.  this sample was to be overnighted to salt lake city and tested to see if i carry the gene for BRCA1 or BRCA2.    why is this such a big deal?  well, if that mutation is indeed positive,  this cancer becomes no longer just about me.   as a mother of four biological children and as a sister to a few siblings, i am struggling with all of this.  i signed some papers and shook some hands and left feeling weighted by the wait for yet another test result.   it occurred to me as i exited her office that in two weeks i will have information about my genes, my oncotype, my chemotherapy and my longterm treatment....all at once. all within a few days of each other.  and before we even located our SUV in the parking deck my mood grew darker still.


i climbed (ever so carefully) back into the car to head home.  my sister drove.  my friend fastened my seatbelt, held my purse, positioned a pillow, handed me my phone.... i was capable only of closing my eyes.  that was my big achievement for the moment.  eyelid lowering.  i felt kind of lowered myself.  still in need of that casserole, those pain meds and that nap, i wanted to curl up in the front seat and cry.  i could feel the wash of self pity begin to slither itself over me.  i could hear the voice of The Angry One start stirring up within me.  "why you?  why this?  why now?"  his hissing voice loud in my ear, "this is no fair.  you deserve better.  where is your God, jody? why is He doing this to you?"  my body was now in full blown hurt.  my defenses dull.   i could feel my stitches and my swelling and my disappointment.   i could feel the bruising of my tissues and my ego.  i was sore all over and i wasn't sure anything was going to touch it.  comfort.  sooth.  at least not today.


self pity.  it is there - always hovering over me.  i can sometimes reach out and touch the bubble suspended just above my head.   i can even poke it. but carefully.  it might easily pop and easily pour and easily leave me swimming in its dark.  it does that.  we've all felt its slithering surface urging us deeper into our wallow. and it is sneaky.  always sneaky.


the day went on much the same way.  i won't recount for you each moment of hard.  but once we decide on hard or stressed or unfair or challenging or difficult....it does not disappoint.  it comes.  it comes readily.  heavily. i came home from those appointments not quite the same woman.  and i slunk around my thursday with a little less sass.  my family could tell.   but that night as i lay in bed.  pillows propping arms.  tubes protected.  bandages tight.  i began to pray.  and as i prayed i became more and more aware of my mis-steps throughout this day.  i became aware of how The Angry One, The Evil One was lurking and looking for his way in.  for his foothold.  i became aware of how quickly he was ready to pour over me the ointment of self pity.  to drown me.  just say the word.  he needs no encouragement.  he is always ready to hiss and slither and seduce and drown. eager to do so.  


i think it was at this point that i was certain the battle had truly begun.  i had thought it began on the day of diagnosis.   and if not that day, then surely, last saturday,  on the day of surgery.  but no... as i lay there in bed it became clear:  this is my true battle.  and this hissing serpent my true enemy.  satan doesn't want victory over my body.  he wants my mind.  my soul.  my spirit.   his main objective isn't my body crushed with cancer.  his desire is my spirit crushed with cancer.   i can lay here in all my post-surgical trauma and feel the tentacles of pain...but these tentacles are temporary.  i know this.  but i also know satan wants to use them as a place to put his sharp foot.  his claws.  to begin his dig.  and this is the battle. and it has, indeed, begun.


and so yesterday was hard.  but even in this hard Jesus spoke clearly.  He pricked my mind and prodded my spirit.  He woke me from my fuzzy state of pride and pain and medication and mess  and He reminded me in the lateness of night for my need to be ready.  to be on guard.  to be aware. to be prepared.  this battle is not gentle and the stakes are high.  body...health...life...yes.   but mostly mind...spirit...soul.  

"O Sovereign Lord, my strong deliverer, who shields my head

in the day of battle --- do not grant the wicked their desires,  O Lord."

~ psalm 140:7