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From Panic to Promise

A few weeks ago I had a little attack of anxiety.  It kind of went like this:

What year is it now?  2012?  That means the oldest is going to be ten this summer.  Ten!  Oh my!  That’s double digits.  That means he’s going to be going into 5th grade.

5th grade.  That’s just a year away from middle school.  I need to start looking into middle school curriculum.  This means I must look at what he will be doing in high school so that I can prepare him while he’s in the middle grades.  This means I maybe need to look at college requirements.  No, no, it can’t be time for college yet!

He’s going to be 10.  That’s just a stone’s throw from teenagerhood.  We are going to have to start thinking about talking to the son about the birds and bees.  Oh my goodness.   This time is going by too quickly.  There’s still so much to do!  We have so much to prepare for and not enough time.  Are we doing enough?  Of course not, and there’s no way we will be able to do even a fraction of the things we wish we could do and an even smaller fraction of the things we do do, will be done well.


This is the moment when the husband has to tell me to snap out of it.  He does not really smack me, but actually just reminds me of the time (nearly midnight) and asks me why I have to have these attacks just as we need to be asleep.  He’s right, of course.  There is nothing to be gained from indulging in these panicky thoughts in the wee hours of the morning.  I just lose hours of sleep and accomplish nothing, except maybe some desperate prayers.  Things usually look brighter in the morning, so I tried and eventually succeeded in going to sleep.

The next morning, I did feel better, but the sense of a coming Big Event would not leave me.  This was heightened when the oldest said to me that he did not want to be a teenager.  When I asked him why, he said he was afraid of what it would be like.  Just what I was thinking!  I have this feeling like I am walking toward the edge of a cliff and, in a few steps, I will fall over the edge, but I can’t stop myself from moving.

Right now, things are calm.  We are all enjoying each other and parenting the boys is mostly fun and not too stressful.  But, I see the storm clouds in the distance and I know I need to prepare myself.  How?


A Lot.

Love my kids with all my heart.

Teach them the truth while they are still listening.

And make a quilt.

Forget any other quilt I had in the works.  This one, the one that will contain hours of love, prayers, and protection is the most important project right now.  He may not know it when I give it to him, but this quilt will be part of his armour/shelter from the storms that are coming.

Every star is a mother’s wish.

Every stitch, a prayer.

Every color, a promise.