Grace was enough and grace is enough and grace always will be more than enough to change an old man young and an ankle deep stream to a sea. Grace can't be bought and grace can't be sold, not for the wages of a thousand days. Grace is the gift of a King who longs for His children to see they're not slaves.
I would have never considered myself as someone who struggles with anxiety. During high school and even college, school and studying were my focus but were like second nature to me. I dealt with the typical last minute project stress or worried over a big final, but that was the extent of my anxious thoughts. Studying comes somewhat naturally to me, and I honestly enjoy it. Pharmacy school was a bit different since the stakes are higher, but even then I was able to leave my worries at the door after completing and exam or even a difficult or stressful week.
Looking back, I think my anxiety actually began in the final months of my pregnancy. I was so ready for the 'new normal' and was actively preparing myself mentally and emotionally for the process of labor and delivery. What I didn't anticipate was the amount of tender healing that my own body would require. There was the learning curve of nursing, the sleepless nights and the fact that this perfect, tiny being was completely dependent upon me for survival. It can be so overwhelming.
Then I started back to work at only six weeks postpartum, which came with its own set of stressors. Juggling all the hats was, and still is, pretty exhausting sometimes. Work full-time, commute, make dinner, workout, spend time with my husband, oh yeah and take care of that babe. Not to mention sleep, shower and try to find a sliver of downtime to keep the anxiety at bay. The struggle is so real. There is a constant stream of thoughts in my head that I just can't shake. I worry about Elliot, how much he's eating, whether I'm pumping enough. I worry about vaccines and infections and his exposure to germs. I worry about my own health, lack of sleep, headaches and almost nonexistent workout schedule. I worry about my husband, and I miss him. I worry about money and jobs and health and all of the other things.
So apparently, mine is a story about anxiety... but it's also one about grace. And I share this to encourage all of you who may be dealing with the same thing. It's ok to be joyful about your new family and your role, but also be tired and overwhelmed and frustrated. It's ok to not be on the top of the mountain all the time. My son is the most wonderful thing that has ever happened in my life, second only to the day when I married his papa. But that doesn't mean that some days with my precious child aren't incredibly hard, or that I don't stay up way later than I should trying to put tomorrow's dinner in the crockpot or that I don't have sleepless nights that have nothing to do with a babe. Because I have all of those things. But I also have grace.
And sometimes grace takes clearing stones with a weary heart and aching bones to prove to you child that it was worth it all.
This season is most certainly a difficult one, but I have no doubt that it will be one of the most rewarding times of my life. My sole purpose during these days is to be an encouraging and faithful wife and an uplifting and caring mama. This will be a story of struggle but also one of great love.
Grace gets deeper the more you trust that the King is good and the King is just. And that forgiveness is stronger than the grave. Sometimes grace takes clearing stones with a weary heart and aching bones to prove to you child that it was worth it all.
Roll away the stones, roll away the stones.
Roll away the stones and come alive.
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