The back spasms returned this morning. These were not triggered by a sneeze, but even more earthy, after flushing the toilet and washing my hands. These spasms were not painful; they felt like a sudden metamorphosis of my back muscles into wobbly Jell-O. It was frightening to lose bodily control and too much drama before coffee. My inner-scared-child yelped for Johnny. My patient husband spoke soothing words and led me through stretches despite my claims that I'd developed ALS like James Woods's character on ER last night. Why Johnny puts up with me I don't know.

I've debunked my ALS theory as I did a test run to get a glass of water, release Harley Cat onto the porch, and light a stick of Japanese incense. Relief washed over me as no spazzing occurred and I inhaled the fresh air. Goodness, it is a beautiful day - one exuding near tangible peace in slants of sunlight. A day where the Holy Ghost hovers in our home causing my morning fears to seem a bad dream. I realize the utter foolishness of fear. I ought to win an award for the creativity of my fears. Really, I've conjured up Pulitzer Prize-winning stuff. And did you know, I actually learned a lesson in courage yesterday from my friend Amy's 4-year-old daughter, Izzy. I dropped by their house and had excellent conversation with Amy about art, the theology of the body, recipes, cleaning, mascara, and other vital female topics. All the while Amy was holding her baby Ian, and Izzy and her 2-year-old brother Athan played with toys on the floor. Then like typical siblings the gaiety turned to havoc as Izzy and Athan felt quite strongly they needed to play with the same toy, a cool Etch-a-Sketch type contraption. Amy instructed Izzy to sit by me on the couch with the Etch-A-Sketch; Athan was given a small plastic animal and a ball for entertainment which he relished by dropping the ball on the animal sending the poor creature flying across the room to its doom. Izzy became bored and started singing, "I wish an adult would play with me in my room. I wish an adult would play with me in my room......." Amy made her wait as we continued to chat about musicians such as Sigur Ros, Rufus Wainwright, Radiohead, and Damien Rice.

Soon after I followed Izzy into her room which is a feminine swirl of pink and lavender with accents of other pastels. There is every kind of princess doll known to man on her bed which is covered with Hello Kitty sheets and pillows. She has a cute pink desk, a lavender armchair, and white curtains with cotton candy-colored polka dots which veil a Princess Barbie sitting on the windowsill. Izzy and I sat on her bed and looked through her books such as Angelina Ballerina (I'm happy to report she loves to read). She pointed to a blank space on her lavender wall near the right side of her bed. She doesn't like it blank so Amy is planning to paint a castle mural and Izzy stated emphatically, "So there won't be scary, dark shadows at night." I gently reminded her that she need not fear the shadows as God protects her. Her pretty face lit up and she showed me a prayer card on her nightstand - the card had a picture of Jesus's face and a Cross which she looks at when afraid. Then Amy pointed to an icon hanging on the upper-left side of Izzy's bed. The icon used to hang in the bathroom but after several nights of scary shadows Izzy requested the icon in her bedroom. What Faith Izzy already has so young (thanks to God and great parents)! When she sees dancing, evil shadows on her wall she gazes into the face of Christ or looks to Him hanging on her wall. When my back is spasmodic or I have a fearful imagination I also ought to look upon Jesus hanging on the Cross where He defeated my sin, my fear, dark shadows, and literal evil. Out of the mouths of babes You have perfected praise.

1 comment:

Christine said...

Wow, Jenni-kat, I'm looking forward to partaking of your writing each day :) I laughed about Izzy's "song" about wanting an adult to play with her - and then loved how you tied it all together at the end. What a beautiful way to end this post. I love it.