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3/14/2013

Be gone, fear!

"Being a parent means always being afraid."
I remember saying this and believing it when I first found out I was pregnant (yes, I considered myself a parent since then).
I get angsty when I'm fearful displaying attitudes I'm not fond or proud of.

"How could my mother allowed me to do the things I did?" I ask myself.
Seriously. If I wasn't climbing trees, I was walking on rooftops or walls. If I wasn't playing in the street with my friends all over the neighborhood and even in a forest behind my house that was probably snake infested, I was finding risky games in the house like going up the walls in the aisle like a monkey pressing my arms and legs on both walls til I reached the top! Or how about skating downhill from a street that had occasional cars coming through? Or riding a bike downhill from a mountain standing on the bike's chair! Or my insane habit of trying to pet every dog I encountered even if it was big, scary, and barking at me with it's teeth bare.
If I were my own daughter, I'd give myself a heartattack!

You do end up paying them all don't you?!

I had finally gotten the hang of sleeping without waking every hour to check on Emmalee. This was doing wonders for my marriage and my care of Emmalee. Sleep depravation is the fastest way to become "like the dripping of a leaky roof in a rainstorm." (Prov 27:15). We were finally sleeping. And then, the accident happened...

On saturday we were enjoying a day of home chores. He was helping me with bathe the dogs while I made lunch. Emmalee is happy to sit in her infant chair and watch us for a while, but she'll eventually get bored and ask/demand to be picked up. It was a little windy and the leaves from the yard where blowing into the kitchen so I closed the door. I picked Emmalee to take her to her room and change her diaper. We have to walk what I now know are eleven stairs from the kitchen to her room. Before this day I didn't know how many stairs where in that trayectory. They don't feel like much because they are separated into two sets: one from the kitchen to the living room and one from the living room to the rooms. They have very rounded edges that have made me trip a few times, once while I was eight months pregnant. I had Emmalee with her face against my shoulder with my arm under her tushy holding her up. I didn't even realize when I slipped and went down five stairs down the second set of stairs. I hit my head against the first stair in the set and my elbows hit the others stairs. I sat down immediately to see if Emmalee had been hurt. She was now laying with her face on my lap. I picked her up and she looked at me normally and then she started to cry. I let out a shrieking "RODOLFO!" in a cry for help. I remembered the kitchen door is closed so I ran to open it. I took my sandals off and ran barefooted to the bedroom. Rodolfo ran behind me.
"Grab the baby please, I'm shaking," I said as Emmalee was belting cries.
"I can't! I'm covered in dog hair," said he.
Luckily, his grandmother who lives next door, followed him inside and she grabbed Emmalee while Rodol washed his hands and I tried to calm down.
"She's ok," she says showing us that Emmalee is just fine and has no bumps or signs of trauma. "She probably just got scared. That's all."
My heart is still pounding like a drum but Emmalee starts crying again wanting me to hold her. I do and we both calm down.

She has been fine showing no signs of anything wrong with her, but I've been restless all this days waking  up to check on her hourly.
Is it true that being a parent means always being afraid? To some measure, I think it is for every parent.

I don't remember my mother being a fearful mother, however. Being a single mother, I would think she would have been more attached to her children and afraid, but it wasn't the case.



1 John 4
18 There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love.


Ouch! That was right in the face!
I hate being fearful.
I see clearly it make me a women of little faith.
It shows how much way I have to go to truly have a grateful heart.
Not made perfect in love after receiving it in tons by my sweet Jesus?! That's unacceptable.
Anyone wants to give me a KEEP CALM AND TRUST GOD wall art?

Lord,
please help me change my ways and my heart to that of a woman of faith who rests calmly in Your love.
And, Lord, thanks for letting us get Emmalee's passport for our upcoming trip to Panama :). I'll do my best not to let this trip bring worries to my heart.

Oh, and on a side note, we got non-skid tape for those dangerous stairs!

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