Right now i'm worrying over our dog.
Dynamo, the king of all things at our house, has pancreatitis. He was diagnosed about a month ago, and had a flare up recently due to our inadequate understanding of the problem. Anyway, i dutifully fed him his mini-meals of rice and lowfat cottage cheese for three days over last weekend, then started him back on his lowfat kibble. He's had nothing fatty AT ALL. We've been vigilant. As far as i've been able to see, he's been great since then--eating, drinking, running up and down the stairs, playing with the other two dogs--
THEN tonight--he vomited. This is one sign that can mean another flare-up. This chubby little black doxie has a very tight hold on his dad's heart, ever since they met on the floor of a pet store in October of 2002. Both hubby and i got very still and silent tonight in our worry (well, after i finished cleaning up the mess.) We are both quite accomplished at extreme anxiety, so we went from zero to 60 in no time flat. Instantly in our heads we both visualized the worst possible scenario--no more grouchy black puppy barking at everything that moved. No more cuddling with Dyno.
One thing the Pain Class has been working hard to get through my head in the 2 days i've attended: i must learn to let go. Now, i know already that holding on to negative stuff is poison, and i think given where i started (a whole different story) i've done pretty well to be as positive as i am--let's just say that wasn't a family trait.
i am a person who treasures the love of God who made me and sustained me through the aforementioned "where i started" years. He's stayed with me through miscarried babies and deaths of people i loved. He's maintained His love for me, and i've seen it, through all my stinky attitudes and imperfections. He was an integral part of my five years of therapy. i respect Him and love Him. But i have to admit i've kept some bad bits to myself.
Anxiety has always been the gum on my shoe, and some other things ride alongside smelling a lot like dog poo.
All that to say, usually i can't simply go, "Okay, i let go of my death grip on this worry, on this injustice." Usually i'm too busy safeguarding the bits on my shoe.
Maybe i'm catching on, though. Maybe God in his infinite wisdom has seen fit to use my intelligent pelvis and aching body as another nudge to help me learn what i've known all along, that control is but an illusion. i need to learn to release my death grip on that nasty shoe and just find a clean pair. (Okay, so this probably wasn't the best thought out metaphor.) But as i was hugging onto our little dog and loving on him tonight, i started praying: "God, please take care of our Dynamo. You know how much we love him and need him. Please help me let go and let YOU take over his care, okay?"
Normally this would bring no obvious change, other than me recognizing that i was at least recognizing my need to let go. But this time, a peace washed over me, and the anxious adrenalin stopped spurting. Huh.
It was a weird thing, a different thing, an unfamiliar thing. All those years of therapy, all the years learning to accept God's love for me, even the recent chats with my pelvis, it all came together in a moment of actually letting go.
It's something for me to hold onto and remember. But, God? i'd still like to see the little guy pull through, okay? Thanks.