In August, my husband was forced to recognize that his old faithful van was ready for the junk yard. He began talking about getting a new vehicle for me or for him. He said he was afraid that if he got me a new van, he didn’t know when he would get one. I only stated that I could say the same. 🙂 Then, knowing my husband so well, I suggested that either way was okay with me. Pictured above is my new van!
After we purchased this nine-passenger van, my husband was terrified that I wasn’t going to be able to back it out of the driveway without destroying another vehicle, a mailbox, or his yard. We had some rather testy conversations about this. I haven’t had an accident yet. The rearview camera, that works even in the dark, has been very helpful in this regard.
This large van hasn’t just gotten my husband’s attention. People in parking lots like to check it out and make comments. One man said, as I got out of the van, “Wow! This thing is like Air Force One! It’s decked out!” Nicely, he mentioned that he thought I drove it well, too. We’ve already used the van to take my tennis team to an out-of-town match and a group of guys to a football game in Wisconsin.
With all the bells and whistles it has, there is only one thing I don’t like about it. (Okay two. The low gas mileage isn’t great either). That is that I can’t see all my kids. The captain’s chairs hide the little ones in particular. The other day at church, my youngest was left in the van, because no one could see him. Fortunately, it was a nice day and it didn’t take us long to figure out he was missing. I’m starting to think I need to stand near the doors with a checklist of names!
If you pass us on the road, make sure to salute my husband–our family president whose automotive bailout plan we all highly approve of!
From childhood, I suffered from night time fear, but not of the dark or monsters. Mine was a more sophisticated fear. I was terrified that someone would break into my home and hurt me or my family. My parents were sound sleepers and I was convinced that it was up to me to save us all.
My sleepless nights where every noise seemed to be evidence of a horrific scene about to unfold became even worse when I lived alone. My first year of graduate school, I lived amidst a wife beater, an alcoholic who thought I ought to be counseling him, and a stalker who called me repeatedly and left me notes. Many nights I could barely breathe because the fear was so overpowering. I prayed for God's protection many, many times. After I got married and practiced as a Christian counselor, I asked God for relief from the fear itself.
Having a husband who is a black belt in jujitsu did not stop the fear, in part because he traveled a lot when we were first married. To cope, I had a security alarm put in and used a door brace under my bedroom door handle. Yep, I was completely phobic. I didn't get a dog to deal with my fear, but the fact that I had a little yapper who responded to anyone in the vicinity of our home, added to my feeling of security.
One weekend evening, I was battling a bad cold. We had been invited to a friend's party two hours away and I was fine with my husband going without me. He said he would be staying overnight with them as he often did while traveling for work. After he left, I went through my security routine. I turned off the power for the garage door opener, locked all the doors, and baracaded my bedroom door after I was sure my dog was with me.
In the middle of the night (2 or 3 a.m.), someone knocked on my front door. I had heard on the news once (I am sure all my fear developed from the news!) that robbers will often knock on the door to see if you are home and if you don't answer, they will break in. I wasn't going to let them think no one was home! My dog was barking furiously. I turned on the television and hoped whoever it was would move on.
Unfortunately, the knocking became more insistent. I turned up the volume on the TV. My dog was wild. Then my greatest fear became a reality. I could hear the person trying to break in. I ran to the bathroom, locked the door, picked up the phone and dialed 911. I could barely breathe as I explained to the nice man who answered what was going on. He reassured me an officer was on his way. He asked me where Mr. Wilson was. I told him while I picked up a can of hairspray to use as a weapon.
That's when I heard the most terrifying noise possible. Someone was IN my house. I relayed that information to the nice man and tried not to notice that he sounded frightened, too. He kept speaking to me in a calming voice. I could hear whoever it was rattling my baracaded bedroom door. I was living my nightmare! That's when I heard, "Melanie! It's me!"
I told the nice man that the would-be attacker was my husband. He laughed and I could tell that he was more relieved than I was. I honestly was NOT relieved, but furious at my husband for putting me through the ordeal. He explained that he hadn't been able to get into the house since I shut off the garage door opener. After I cried with relief and laughed at the absurdity of it all, I found that my lifelong fear was gone. All those years, what I was really afraid of was that I wouldn't be able to move if someone broke into my home. Now I know they better look out!
Although an unusual answer to prayer, God used my husband's break-in to take my fear away. Once again, He did for me what I could not do for myself.
Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the LORD your God will be with you wherever you go.” (Joshua 1:9)
Pictured above is my high school speech team, with my coach at the top.
I have been able to win at the two-truths-and-a-lie game by including a statement that I was runner-up in a Miss Teen USA pageant. Maybe I should be insulted that people think that's a lie?
My junior high years took a serious toll on my self-esteem. Although I began my school years as an extrovert, I had become very fearful of rejection. My mother was reading the paper one weekend morning and found an ad for the area teen pageant, which extolled the virtues of participation, including more self-confidence.
For whatever reason, I let her convince me to enter the pageant and I set about conquering my fear of asking businesses to sponsor me. The pageant was scheduled for a Sunday and we had a bit of a drive to get to the church where it was being held. That morning I was listening to the radio while I was doing my makeup and a sermon was on. The pastor said, "The Lord stands with the losers of the world. Just when you are about to became a winner, God changes the rules." I thought that was a nice sentiment, but really didn't want to be a loser.
My mom, my aunt, and I got in the car and drove to the church. I am not sure if my mom took a wrong turn or if we were supposed to be driving on a gravel road, but I remember distinctly her mowing down a flock of chickens that were in her way. She didn't seem the slightest bit remorseful either! I was concerned that our bumper would be covered in blood and feathers.
Once at the church, I was happy to discover that there were only two of us entered in the pageant from my county. I figured I was a shoe in! But you already know that I took second place. As I went back to the prep room following the announcements, I was honestly feeling pretty humiliated. As I fought back tears, I remembered the sermon I'd heard. That's when my attitude completely changed. I really felt like God was standing with me. I was actually in a great mood! I probably teased my mom all the way home about her chicken massacre.
The following fall, I was in a high school speech class. Our assignment was to give a personal experience speech. I spoke about my experience in the pageant and how God had taught me what winning really means. After class, my teacher told me I needed to give that speech in competition. My sophomore year of high school, that's exactly what I did. Many times after giving that speech, other competitors would come up and thank me for sharing my experience and my faith. An extra bonus was the winning season I had.
Becoming a loser at a beauty pageant was the beginning of a speaking ministry that continues today. It was also the beginning of my understanding of God's ways. He has consistently used my failures and disappointments to change me and even to bless me. I have learned that when God stands with you, there is really no way you can lose.
This is what the LORD says— your Redeemer, the Holy One of Israel: “I am the LORD your God, who teaches you what is best for you, who directs you in the way you should go. (Isaiah 48:17)
I’m a psychologist, and as such, I try to present myself as being mentally healthy. That facade will be put to rest today.
There are only two things that make me anxious and I experienced them both together as I traveled home from a speech tournament with my oldest son yesterday.
The first thing that gets my OCD juices flowing is public restrooms. I really, really hate using them. It isn’t so much that I am afraid that I will pick up germs from someone as it is that I’m grossed out thinking about who has been in there before me and what they’ve been doing. I am not going to try to justify my abnormality. I tell you this only to explain the events of the day.
As I boarded the plane, I was feeling the call of nature mildly. I have an exceptionally big and strong bladder from years of avoiding using public restrooms. I figured I could certainly make it until the plane landed, at which point I would be forced to use a public restroom at the next airport. Later is always better when you’re anxious.
I smartly refused all beverages on the plane, but it was too late for my bladder because I had had a coffee drink before boarding. I debated with myself for a good hour about whether or not I could survive more than a three-hour flight without using the restroom. The stakes were high. Literally. While I have a distate for public restrooms, I have an all-out aversion for airline bathrooms. I believe in all my 43 years, I have used one once. The experience imprinted upon me the necessity of avoiding a repeat performance.
Anyone who shares my disgust for public toilets does not need me to explain why I was flipping out at the prospect of having to use the bathroom on the plane. But for the rest of you, I will give details.
Men are using the same restroom
It’s the size of a casket
The flush is a massive suction effect that threatens to take you with it
Poor ventilation
Impossible to hover
No bathroom attendant keeping things neat
The other horrors I got to experience firsthand. As I saw over an hour left in the flight, I knew that the misery of holding it had surpassed the misery of the airplane toilet experience. I got up and started making my way to the back. Right then the man sitting behind me decided he would go too. Wonderful. He was in front of me. Standing up made me realize that I really, really had to go.
The toilets were both occupied. For. a. long. time. The only thing that made it better was that the man who was going to use the toilet before me looked just as uptight as I felt. Finally one opened up and he entered. Meanwhile, a sizable line formed behind me. Another bladder age passed and I was finally able to get in there. That’s when my second source of anxiety kicked in: turbulence.
I hate turbulence. It brings to mind all those horrifying airplane crashes I’ve experienced with Tom Hanks, the cast of Lost, and others. The worst turbulence I had experienced personally was a dramatic loss of altitude after flying out of Philadelphia immediately post-9/11. People were screaming. My anxiety level was a 12 on a 1-10 scale.
In that frame of mind, I locked the door and felt like I was in an outhouse connected to the back of a speed boat. The ride was so bumpy that I was doing well to stand up at all. There wasn’t any way I could even get my pants down. It wasn’t long, however, before I realized that I better get busy or the anxiety would finish the job for me, toilet or no.
I’ve already mentioned that you can’t hover in an airplane restroom. I was hopeful that I could at least put toilet paper on the seat. As I tried in vain to get the paper to stick, my third fear kicked in. I wondered what on earth the poor full-bladdered souls in line were thinking of me. As the plane continued to bounce through the air, I realized that any germs I would get on my hiney couldn’t kill me because the plane crash would get me first. I sat down, did my business, cleaned up, and made my way back to my seat, physically and emotionally relieved.
I was actually kind of proud of myself for overcoming my fear. (Pathetic, I know, as I was forced into it). The turbulence calmed down and in no time at all, we prepared to land. That’s when the pilot came on the intercom and announced that there was “weather” at the airport and that we would be in a holding pattern.
Fear number four kicked in: tornadoes. Our airport was recently damaged in a tornado. I wondered how terrifying it must have been for the passengers who were on planes as those storms went through. I reassured myself that we were safe and sound in a holding pattern. Until the turbulence kicked in again.
I called to mind all my psychology tricks to get me through the next 30 minutes of turbulence and announcements that we still couldn’t land because of “weather.” I wondered if this was akin to calling cancer a “health matter.” I praised God from A to Z, imagined myself back home and hugging my kids, took deep breaths, relaxed my tense muscles, and reassured myself that crashing wouldn’t be painful. Hopefully. All of these things really did help and we were finally able to land without incident.
I headed to the restroom once in the terminal, delighted to see that they had automatic plastic covers on the toilets. I sat down gleefully and relieved myself. After I stood up, I read the instructions for the plastic covers indicating how to get a new clean cover–instructions that I hadn’t used. Oh well.
I praise God that He got me home safely to my beloved family last night, dirty hiney and all.
Can you relate to any of my fears? If so, do you have any tips for dealing with them?
Don’t miss another funny pin. Follow my humor board on Pinterest!
Today I called to have our cable service ended as we've switched to another service. What a simple task, you say! Not for me.
As I imagined the phone call, I felt a knot develop in my stomach. I could hear the customer service rep telling me what a fool I was to switch and that I'd be sorry. I just knew I was going to have to justify my decision and I dreaded it. I tried to cancel service via the impersonal website, but that was a no-go.
Do you ever feel like you're afraid to cut ties to something you know isn't right for you? Do you worry about what people will say? Have you thought about changing churches, jobs, or associations only to let anxiety hold you back?
Since this summer I have been determined to get out my scissors and confront my fears. So I called the cable company. I believe God cares about every detail of our lives, including the cable we're attached to. I also believe that God has a sense of humor. The customer service rep asked me why I was ending service and went on to ask which company I had switched to. I held my breath waiting for the condemnation of my choice. The rep said something much worse: "I hope you get everything you deserve." I was quite shocked! But then he explained, "I don't wish that on you or anyone. I don't ever get what I really deserve, considering everything I've done wrong."
Turns out my customer service rep was a pastor with Dunlop Disease. He said he's eaten so much his stomach has done lopped over his belt. LOL! After we laughed and chatted a bit, he said, "In a few decades, I'll see you in your new home."
Indeed, by the time we get to heaven, we will have cut off every tie, every cable that connects us here. And we need have no fear of it, because cable or no cable, we can remain in the service of our loving Savior.
"I am the vine; you are the branches. If a man remains in me and I in him, he will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing. (John 15:5)
I’m a Christian psychologist turned homeschooling mother of six. My life can be a little crazy, so I look for sanity-saving ideas to use and share. I hope you’ll read my About page to learn more.
