Poison

Three a.m. Friday night, I lay sprawled in the living room floor under the fan. More of my body exposed than I was comfortable with, but it was the only relief I could get from the horrid poison ivy rash. All I could do was lay there, pray the prednisone would work quickly, and think.

I thought about the moment I grabbed that vine next to the azaleas. A little voice told me that it was probably poison ivy and to be careful. If only I had listened, I wouldn’t be covered in a nasty, red rash of oozing pustules (lovely!). I wondered, why am I doing this? Who cares what my yard looks like?

Then I thought about this blog. My goal is to be honest about my life, exposing the true me (oozing pustules and all). The moment I post something, I sort of go into a panic mode. Self doubt and worry seep in to my mind, like poison. Will anyone read it? Did I write something that will offend someone? What do I know about “How to Grow a Beautiful Soul,” anyway?

Exposed and uncomfortable, I thought about quitting both. Then that little voice in my head came back. It repeated what I tell my classes. “To grow stronger, you have to get out of your comfort zone. You’ll never run faster or build stronger muscles if you stay where it’s nice and easy.” (Yeah, I don’t get too many smiling faces on that lecture).

Morning came too quickly, and my family was up and ready for a day filled with activity. I was exhausted, itchy and just wanted to vege in front of the TV. I wanted to get comfortable (well, try anyway). But I would miss spending precious time with my husband and kids. It won’t be too long before they are grown up (all three of them, haha!) and I’ll regret lying on the couch “getting comfortable”.

It was a beautiful day, and the kids had a ball riding their bikes in a new place. We stopped at Lowe’s for more yard supplies and Wendy’s for dinner. Staying far, far away from the azalea bushes, Cliff and I planted a few things and hooked up a new hose. I sat down at the edge of our “Secret Garden” (as Alice now calls it, even though it’s smack dab in front of our house). Cliff was close by putting a lamp together and the kids were playing with their watering cans. The warm sun on my skin and the sweet laughter of my family took my mind off all my itching and self doubting. They were the antidotes to my poisons.

Alice skipped across the stones through the newly planted Pink Mandevilla, my sweet little butterfly. She leaned over to whisper in my ear. “I don’t have a favorite thing today.” A question I ask her every night at bedtime. “This whole day is my favorite!”

Who cares what my yard looks like? She does.

Who knows “How to Grow a Beautiful Soul”? God does.

I won’t be quitting anytime soon on either one.