TMI about PMS

I hope this will not be TMI.

During my normal day to day life, I tend to minimalize the things that bother me.  I was raised that if I didn't have anything positive to say, I would either be ignored or sent to my room until I could have a more positive attitude.  Maybe that's why I carved the words, "Damn Mom" on my bed frame one day.  Ahem.  Anyway, as a mom, I can totally see why mom reacted to my negativity in this way.  No one wants to be around a Debbie Downer, and I can be a damn depressing Debbie Downer!  Plus, everyone knows if you want to be happy, you need to ACT like you are happy.  It does no one any good to wallow around in the muckiness of life. So, I get it.

I also get that the most well-liked people are the ones who go around with a smile on their faces.  You know, the ones who reply "Never better," when you ask them how they are doing.  And probably one of my biggest sins is that I want so much to be liked, and I place this desire above my desire to serve God and others.  So, I put on a happy face as much as possible.  I try not focus on those things that bother me.

BUT THEN.....

PMS arrives (and this is where it might get a little TMI...and yes, I did just use two acronyms in one sentence, making me sound like a teenager so five years ago.)  On normal, non-PMS days, I tend to sock my resentments and irritations into something like a clothes dryer.  I don't see them, but I know they are in there rumbling around, over and over.  PMS comes around and opens the dryer up, takes the resentments out and shakes them out, making them very, very visible to me.  I no longer can ignore them.  As I become acutely aware of them again, I wonder what kind of game I'm playing...not addressing them for all of this time...not praying about them...and not even being aware of them.

The beauty of PMS, as a friend of mine pointed out to me, is that it forces me to acknowledge those things that do need to be examined and possibly changed.  It is painful, but pain is usually God's way of strengthening us, right?  Isn't any strength building exercise like that?  So, I've grown to maybe not be excited about PMS, but in a strange way, thankful for it.

The one thing that always seems to come up during my days of PMSing is my frustration and my lack of acceptance about where we go to church.  It's where my husband has found his spiritual home.  He's not leaving.  But it's not my spiritual home, and that fills me with resentment during PMS time.  While my husband has given me the option, over and over again, to go somewhere else, I tend to minimalize my issues with the church in my desire for family unity and strive to focus on those things that are beautiful, good, and true in our church.  I try to focus on the thankfulness I feel that my husband and I both come from great Christian, supportive families and that I'm a part of a wonderful Christian homeschooling community.  I also am so grateful for many solid Christian friendships.  And to be fair, God has blessed our church with the best priest ever.  If anyone is into Orthodoxy, I really don't see how they could find a more loving, learned, wise, godly priest. He's also a great speaker and teacher. So, I am thankful for him, too.

I wish I could say I have figured out what to do about this issue, but every time I get angry about being stuck at this church, the only answer God seems to give me is to thank Him for doing something through this that I can't see.  It feels clear to me that leaving this church, while it would feel so satisfying to me for a time, would be wrong.  So, I struggle through the pain of it, and I do wonder if some day it will feel right in my soul to leave and go to another church where I can finally be free.  In the meantime, it seems to be the cross I have to bear.  I understand that compared to other people's suffering, my situation doesn't seem that bad.  I mean, it's not as though anyone is abusing me or threatening to kill me for my faith.  In fact, most people at my church are extremely kind to me.  It's just that, well, as I said before, I'm an opinionated, stubborn? gal, and it's difficult to constantly be running into contrary ideas at the place I wish was my spiritual home.

But alas, I will trust in what God is weaving in my life, and hope that one day I will understand.

My Life is but a weaving
between my Lord and me;
I cannot choose the colors
He worketh steadily.

Oft times He weaveth sorrow
And I, in foolish pride,
Forget He sees the upper,
And I the under side.

Not til the loom is silent
And the shuttles cease to fly,
Shall God unroll the canvas
And explain the reason why.

The dark threads are as needful
In the Weaver's skillful hand,
As the threads of gold and silver
In the pattern He has planned.

He knows, He loves, He cares,
Nothing this truth can dim.
He gives His very best to those
Who leave the choice with Him.