Tag Archives: anxiety

Whatever is good Goldi,

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Sometimes it rains. Rain doesn’t come in just water drops. It comes in thinking about all the what ifs, the anticipation of what is going to happen, the unknown, and unplanned events of life. It’s the kind of rain that touches every corner of life and seems to zap every brain circuit. When it does, Goldi’s heart beats fast. She squeezes a large round, pillowy squish mallow. Her eyes wander aimlessly, and she shuts herself up in her room.

“Oooh!” I hear her say behind her closed door.

She is breathing short and quick.

Knock Knock my fist tries to tap and not pound. I don’t bother to wait for an answer, I let myself in.

“My stomach feels funny.” she says. “Do you think the chamomile tea will help?”

“It always worked for Peter Rabbit.” I said. ( at least after he ate all of Mr. McGregror’s garden)

Goldi knows how to make tea herself. Even the loose leaf kind. But instead, she stretches out a small little smile, hugs her stomach, and looks up into the ceiling.

Dr. Google has much to say about anxiety. There’s this well known 333 strategy.

“What are three things you see?” I ask

Goldi stops for a long time. The answers are never immediate. There is a forever silence that makes me even forget what question I asked.

“I see a chair, a window, and a rug. “

“I see a book, a light, and a flower.”

“I don’t have a flower in my room!” Goldi lets go of her squishmallow.

“Yes, you do,” I point to a very small impatient bud on the plant near her window. Goldi’s room gets all the sun in the winter. So, I thought I would keep the pretty pink impatient plant growing all winter long and then it will be GIANT in the spring and summer. ( God willing)

“Oh” Goldi says.

Now, what are 3 things you hear?

Right away, our toilet sings. Yes, it really does sing. After every flush, it reaches an operatic high note. We have all grown used to it and rather like it.

“The TOI-LET singing!” Goldi says, “and dad is talking to someone on the phone. ”

“Hear anything else?

“I hear a siren.” Goldi says curling herself up tight.

“Well, I hear the clanging dishes in the kitchen. I hear BJ the bird ringing the bell. I hear someone is taking a shower. “

“You mean BJ can ring the bell now?” Goldi let go of her pillow.

“Of course, He has been practicing all day! That bird wouldn’t give up. ”

“Nice job BJ!” Goldi calls out.

“What are three things you feel with your fingers? ” I wiggle the fingers on both my hands.

Goldi wiggles both of them back at me.

“My squshmallow.” She says right away. “My blanket, and …. ” She touches things all around her. In between her mattress and her trundle bed frame, she finds a crunched up piece of paper. “What’s this? ” She smoothes out the paper as best she can.

“My picture!” Goldi cries. “I thought I’d lost it.”

Even though buried in wrinkles, there is a nicely drawn girl with long lashes, wearing a princess dress, and a warm smile. “What’s her name?”

“Charlotte Jane” she says smiling at Charlotte and not at me.”

“Would you like some tea now?” I ask.

“Yes, ” Goldi says “Can you bring it in to me? I need to color Charlotte Jane’s dress.”

“Okay,” I closed the door and filled up the tea kettle.

Finally, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things. Whatever you have learned and received and heard and seen in me- practice these things and the God of peace will be with you. Philippians 4:8

Rain Storm

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At first there was a hush, then a pitter patter, and finally a loud applause of raindrops. I laid one hand on my journal. In the other hand, a rolled a pen in my fingers. It seemed like the clouds were sighing a heavy relief. I didn’t write one word on the smooth empty page. I just watched and wondered.

“How long is it supposed to rain?” Goldi stood glued against the kitchen wall squeezing a pillow.

I looked out. To her, I am sure it looked like buckets of water were being poured out from the heavens. I had to offer something hopeful, “Probably won’t be for a long time. ” I had no idea how long the rain would last or even if the loud smacking drops against the window would change to any kind of pitter patter.

I knew Goldie was anxious and scared. I knew because her eye balls nearly popped out of her sockets. She was watching from a distance the world grow blurry. She couldn’t see the trees in the backyard. She couldn’t see the street. She couldn’t see the mailbox. The noise of the overly excited raindrops smacked the house. Soon they sounded angry. “We aren’t just little drops of water. We’ll show you what can do!” they screamed.

I looked away from the water washed world. Goldie had scrunched down into a corner and lay her head on her knee caps. I let out a heavy sigh.

Goldie used to loved to dance in the puddles even when the rain poured down in buckets. I remember she practically dove into them and relished in the biggest, clearest, roundest, puddle. One splash and she was drenched. Back then, she even saw rainbows even in a sunless gray sky.

But now she is ” too old “to splash in puddles. She would rather stay in with a blanket over her head up or in a corner all scrunched up. She knows too much of all the worrisome possibilities and gets lost in them. She’s now old enough to think about consequences, hardship, challenge, and real life.

I sigh heavy and I am sure Goldi hears it even over the loudness of the rain. I sigh three times. I hear a breathy echo in the distance. Goldi was sighing too.

“Feel better?” I ask.

“A little,” she has lifted her head up slightly.

“I am glad.” I smiled big at her. She offers me a small little grin.

I don’t say anything more. I just watch the rain. The rain that makes the grass greener. The sun seems to shine brighter afterward. The flowers smile. The sky seems to show off a new shade of blue and under its roof there is silence sprinkled with giggles, because the kids can then come out and play. If it didn’t’ rain, none of that would happen. Next time, I will tell Goldi.

Phillipians 4:8

Whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things.