heart.

♥ heart-n.

1 a hollow muscular organ that pumps the blood through the circulatory system by rhythmic contraction and dilation.

2 regarded as the center and source of one’s being, i.e. one’s thoughts, emotions and sensibilities.

This word heart has been on mind all week.  It stuck out to me immediately.  Here are the 2 main reasons.

1 For those of you that haven’t heard, my oldest daughter Sophia has a heart murmur that the doctors found only a few weeks ago.  She has an appointment with a cardiologist in about a week…

2 God has been showing me the bitterness in my heart lately.

It seems that He has chosen this word for me.

Sophia has this thing she does.  You may think it’s cute and charming.  She loves to put her bare feet on me. When I’m doing something with her at the table, when I’m sitting beside her… She’ll push her feet against me keeping me away from her.  She does it in the most playful way, but oh how it bothers me! She’s been doing it for about 6 months, probably.  Now she likes to put her feet under my shorts or in my pockets, and because she knows it bugs me, she does it even more.  Such a simple, innocent, playful thing that my precious daughter does.  Will loves it.  I can’t stand it.  It feels like fingernails on a chalkboard.  Why does it annoy me so?

Lately, I’m finding myself in this constant state of annoyance–sometimes even on the verge of blowing up.  Sophia won’t get her feet off of me, or she’s underfoot every time I turn around.  Or, the way that she says, “Momma, I want to hold you!” right after Abby starts crying.  And the extra time that it takes for her to do something “herself” is driving me batty, especially when I have to wind up helping her 5 minutes later.  Or, having to wait in hot, mosquito filled doorways while she maneuvers all the things she’s holding while trying to inch down the steps… oh, and wait she sees something! She couldn’t possibly move and talk at the same time!  I find the anxiety rising over and over again, and I just want to yell, “Come on! Move!”

Where does all this annoyance come from? Why is my heart so easily anxious, annoyed, and often bitter?

So, that’s my word. Heart.

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One Response

  1. Very fitting. I’m so curious to hear how your appt with the heart specialist goes, and I totally resonate with the story about Sophia moving down the steps. You gotta love how kids don’t have any concept of needing to hurry, flies entering the house, precious cold air escaping, etc. Perhaps the things capturing their attention are the more important things. With that in mind, I’ve been thinking my word might be “play”.

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