Someone asked me the other day how I was so calm during everything that was happening with Judah. I confess that some days peace and fortitude of the heart are easier to maintain than others. Case in point- My first panic attack was six years ago. Physically and mentally exhausted I crumpled into a hyperventilating heap. A second one hit perhaps a year and a half ago. Since October I've had six, with the most recent one being this morning. Here's the story. Jasmine and I share a shirt, we both love it. It's a cactus giving away free hugs. Mike and Jasmine have this thing when she's wearing the shirt that he will come in for the hug and feign being pricked by the cactus character. She dissolves into laughter. I very much needed a laugh this morning so the shtick fell on me. When Mike pulled away, seemingly in great pain my heart set off on a sprint and I began to instantly hyperventilate. Our pantry became my pillar as I went through the steps to shut down the attack. It's funny now. We were joking about it this evening. Life is much more humorous when one is not struggling for air.
There are good days and bad days on this journey. And I think that part of my lesson to be learned on it is this- I am not my bad days, and His mercies are renewed every day. Just breathe it in. When a bad day comes remember that it is just that, a bad day. It does not have to be your every day. Tomorrow holds the possibility of good things. So at the end of a bad day go to sleep. And when you awaken the next morning- breathe, believe, and repeat.