I'm fine ... really!

Someone asked me out of politeness the other day, "How are you doing?" And of course, I said, "I'm fine, thanks."

Why do we do that?

I suppose a lot of that response is automatic, just like a lot of times the question is automatic. Unless we're talking to a good friend that we tend to confide in anyway, most people don't really want to know the minutae of our everyday existence ... whether we're up or down, angry, stressed, joyful, hurting, or whatever. In truth, they probably don't need to, anyway.

But I've learned, especially since becoming a mother, that "fine" is one of those relative terms. For instance, in any given week, I might say I'm fine when:

• I'm stressed about how one of my sons is doing at school.
• I'm elated over some new genealogy find.
• I'm wondering if my youngest will ever remember to use the potty on his own.
• I'm thrilled that despite our one-income lifestyle, we're managing to pay off our debt.
• I'm missing my long-distance family.
• I'm trying to remember the umpteen million things I need to get done for five people.
• I'm wondering what's for dinner.
• I'm wishing someone ELSE would make ME dinner.
• I'm in the mood to go clothes shopping, but can't seem to make myself spend any money even when I get the opportunity to go.
• I'm totally loving my husband, who calls me beautiful no matter how frazzled I get, and loves me for who I am.
• I'm thinking I'd love for it to be spring, so I could get out in my garden and grow some yummy stuff to eat.
• One of the songs we just sang at church made me teary, because it reminded me of a lost loved one.
•  My allergies are bothering me, and I really wish this headache would go away.
• I'm about to pull my hair out, because life with three little boys is all about NOISE.
• I'm feeling blessed, because I have three active, healthy little boys.

"Fine" means so many things. And saying "I'm fine" isn't necessarily untruthful, even on days when life happens to be weighing me down. The truth is, some of these things, even the "not fun" ones, are just a normal part of life for me. And besides that, I know that when I'm feeling troubled or overloaded, there's always someone I can go to that will listen. I can pray for myself and I can pray for others who may also be "fine", or may not. We can all help each other directly or indirectly, in big ways or small, in public, in private or anonymously. It makes the world a better place, and it makes us feel better about who we are. You remember me, and I remember you, whether we tell each other about it or not.

So, I AM fine ... really.  :)

A prayer for peace

They'd been predicting this winter storm for days. Original forecasts suggested we might even have up to 10 inches of snow, although that was gradually shaved back to about 2 inches. One thing they kept saying, though, was it was going to be windy, and it was going to be COLD.

The storm arrived as scheduled ... right before my kids' bedtime. My kids are not real fond of going to bed during storms. It's not such a big deal in the daytime, but something about climbing into bed and trying to go to sleep during one is more of a challenge.

And so my middle son was in tears as he sat in his bed ... not wanting to lay down, not wanting the light turned off, not wanting much of anything. I was at a loss ... I couldn't change the storm, and he was being completely uncooperative. In fact, he was well on his way to working himself into a tizzy, so I went and sat on his bed (as best as I could since he sleeps on the bottom bunk!) and tried to talk to him.

I asked what was bothering him about the storm. He shrugged his shoulders, wiped his tear-streaked face, and said in a tiny voice that it was too noisy outside. So we talked about our house ... the fact that we had strong walls, and a (relatively) new roof, and a heater and blankets inside to help keep us warm. We talked about how he had a hanky for his nose, and a favorite stuffed animal to cuddle with and keep him company. I wasn't sure how else to comfort him ... I really wasn't. Finally, I suggested he try what I try when I'm stressed or worried.

"You know what else you could try?" I asked. He shook his head.

"You could try praying." I said. "You know, God takes care of us when things are bothering us. You could pray and tell him that the storm is bothering you, and you could tell him thank you for our strong house, and ask him to help you sleep well, and help you be brave until the storm is gone."

Finally ... finally ... he was beginning to calm down a little bit.

"Do you want to say a prayer with Mommy?" I asked.

"I just want to do it later." he whispered.

"Ok," I told him. "You lay down, and I'll tuck you in and turn the light off, and then you can say a prayer all by yourself ... alright?" He nodded.

When I went to bed I said a prayer for all of us ... for protection and a good night's rest, and for comfort for my children during the storm.

 The wind raged and howled around the house most of the night, and sticks and gumballs off the neighbor's trees kept pelting the house all night, waking me up because I was expecting to need to comfort one or another of my children. I didn't sleep well, but I never heard any of my children make a sound, nor were there any small hands on my arm looking for comfort during the night.

This morning I put my arms around my boy, and whispered in his ear ... "Did you say a prayer last night?" He nodded.  "Did it help?" I asked. He nodded again.  "Did you sleep well?" He nodded a third time. "I'm so glad."  and I gave him a hug and a kiss and let him return to his play.

And then I said another mini prayer of my own ... "Thank you, Lord, for bringing peace to my child." After all, after a night like that, what else does a Mommy really need?