P.M.S.

I’m just trying to survive.  You know, without biting everyone’s heads off, eating any chocolate I can gets my hands on, and weeping over a cabinet that won’t cooperate with me.  You know what I’m talking about…right?  Admittedly, I’m not doing great.  Two days ago was the hardest.  And yesterday I just tried to be quiet.  The fluctuations are making me crazy.  Right now, it’s so hard not to live by how I feel.

It’s hard.

If what I’m experiencing really is PMS (I think my husband would firmly assure you that it is), it’s the first time in nearly two years.  And it’s kicking my behind.

In honor of this lovely time, and out of an earnest desire to love my husband and not see him as my enemy (because that’s just what happens sometimes during PMS), I am going to try to find a little humor in it.

Because we can find something humorous about this time, right?

I attempted to write a funny poem, but I’m just not funny.   And since it’s “that time of the month,” serious things kept coming out.  Sigh.   I decided to go with the flow (no pun intended) because in the midst of my sin and clouded thinking,  I have been reminded of God’s grace toward me.  And that he created me as a woman with a purposeful design–these hormones do serve a purpose other than revealing my sin to me and giving my husband an opportunity to also be sanctified.  (insert sheepish smile)

So without futher ado, a little poem that will hopefully encourage you, too when you feel like everything is worse than it really is.

Insert title here—any suggestions?

I have a black cloud right over my head

and it makes me want to stay in bed.

It hovers and follows me through my day

and tempts me to run away.

I ask for help and when I receive it,

I then proceed to throw a fit.

My husband is beyond gracious and kind,

not reminding me that I’m out of my mind.

I cry over dirty dishes in the sink,

and pens that run out of ink.

A smile is absent from my face,

instead a scowl often takes its place.

I look at myself in the mirror and exclaim,

these hormones are all to blame!

I remind myself that this is a season

and that I was made for a specific reason.

To see and confess my weakness and sin

and boast in Christ’s strength and rest therein.

Please pray that I would hide myself in Christ and walk humbly before my family!  The Holy Spirit can and will help me during this short season if I yield myself to Him.