The Freak Out Dance

It was August 2012.

Weird that I remember that.
I mean. I can’t remember where I left my car keys most days, or my glasses each morning, or even what I had for dinner two nights ago… Ok. Just Kidding. I remember that one. LOL . I always remember food! But seriously. My mind is a weird mess of what sticks and what goes, and this story.. lol … Well, it’s a prime example.
Some would believe that this is nutso, that I remember this particiular “event” was in August of 2012… but I swear to you, for whatever reason, I do.

Well. Actually I know the reason.

It was a spider.
A big black hairy spider that tried to suck the life out of me.

You don’t forget those things. You just don’t.
They stick with you and become the stories in your life that you tell your grandchildren. They tend to get a little more grandiose with time, hahaha, soooo.. let’s see…
It’s 2019 … seven years. “Grandiose” shoouuld be amped up pretty good by now.


It was hot.
Dang hot.
Sweating before you get out of bed, take a cool shower because you’re going to spend the rest of your day in 100 degree weather kind of hot.

We’re homesteaders. And well, that means parts of the homestead aren’t quite finished. And back in 2012, even more of those “parts” weren’t finished… Including decent air conditioning.
So many mornings started with a cool shower.
This one did.

I had already exited the shower on this day, feeling quite refreshed and ready to start my day, when the “incident of August 2012”, happened.
That’s what I like to call it now.
The Incident.

Of August.


Remember, I said it was a scorcher of a day, so I had chosen a pair of white crop pants for my day. I slid them on, just as I always do, one leg at a time…
I was in mid balance – one leg on floor, one leg lifting to begin the entry process into the first pant leg.
You know this balancing act. I know you do. It’s that precarious state you find yourself when you’re just a littttle bit chubby and the shifting of weight sometimes enacts gravity’s pull and you weeble and wobble and pray you don’t fall down!
That was me at this point.
Trying to resist gravity, stay upright, and shoot my chubby leg through a pant leg hole all at the same time.

That’s when I saw “it”.
A glimpse of darkness on the shin of my “non shooting through the pant leg, leg”. LOL Let’s call it the foundational leg, because.. well, at this point, all my weight was on this leg and it was the only thing keeping me grounded in my struggle to remain upright in this weebling balancing act.

I’m sure you can picture it.
If not. Take a minute, because it’s hilarious.

In a split second, nine hundred and one thoughts ran thru my head:
Is that a spider? It IS a spider! How did I not feel it on my leg???
HOW did it GET on my leg?? Where did it come from???
Did it just BITE Me?
It JUST BIT me!!!! OH my gosh. It bit me! (Crying now) It bitttttt meeee…
Is it poisonous? OMGOOOSHHHH my heart rate is going to race it’s poison through my body!!! My eyes are bulging.
OMGOSSH Do eyes bulge when poisonous spiders bite you? How fast do you die from a poisonous spider bite!?
Am I sweating? Dang it… I’m SWEATING.
Is that a poisonous spider bite reaction?
Oh, no. I’m falling. Gravity and spider are winning… I’m going to crack my head on something and die from a head injury and be found as a swollen unidentifiable body ….

Nine hundred and one thoughts. (I’m an enneagram 6. Some of you will know what that means. LOL)

What ensues is a crazy one legged dance and tangling of pant legs, followed by shrieks of horror, wounded tears of perpetuating death and doom, ripping of cloth, swatting at the intruder while trying to continue to hold pants, and a freak out scramble to stay upright …
alllllll while keeping an eye on the deadly beast so he doesn’t run off to some area of the house to wait in prey for another member of my family.

Finally falling to the floor, in my final moments on earth, I panicked about one last thing. What if this thing was caught in the folds of my pant leg? And as I fall, I trap it, and in it’s own freak out dance to escape, it bites me a bajillon more times, leaving only a blown up, swollen, mess for my husband to find.
I mean. Could happen.

And with that finally thought, I hit the floor…
and realize…

This deadly spider that has now just cost me my life, is actually a giant clump of husky/shepherd hair, courtesy of Molly, my sweet giant furbaby, who sheds like it’s nobody’s business.

Today, she made it my business.

Laying on the floor in a crumpled, sweaty, weakened mess…

I’m pretttty confident…

I’ve had a stroke.


See why I remember this day?

And do you see what can happen when we allow ourselves to get allll worked up over something that never really “was”, to begin with? ( that’s a horrible sentence structure, but go with me. You know what I”m saying )

We perceive something to be true, when we don’t have all the details.
We allow ourselves to get all worked up, when we don’t have the facts.
We think we know what’s going to happen, when we don’t even have the whole story.

And so, we fret, worry, become anxious, and do this whole freak out dance, when really, #sisterfriend…
We’ve conjured a lot of the problem up ourselves!


Can we just take a step back from that pant leg dance for a minute?

1. Our freak out … puts us in a place where we do no one any good. Not you. Not the spider. Not the husband who is gonna find you. No one wins.
And we want to be in the Kingdom business of making sure we’re pointing people in the direction of the Kingdom, right? LOL .. and no one is going to believe your own pursuit is real, if you’re constantly in freak out mode. Just sayin #notetoself
2. Our freak out … shows we don’t believe that God is in control. We (ok, I) just gave waaaaay to much credit to a spider.. aka: hairy clump of dog floof.
It was going to make me die. I went from refreshed, cool shower, to
I’m dead and dying on my bathroom floor by way of swelling till I pop.
Or something like that…

Instantly… from peace to death in a pant leg dance.
Boy, that makes our enemy rejoice. When something drops into our life unexpectedly and we go from zero to sixty on the freak out peg, he knows, we just bypassed our exit ramp to Trusting Jesus.

I don’t want to pass that ramp anymore kids. I don’t. Freaking out is exhausting. Isn’t there just so much more peace when we look at things, in the FIRST PLACE, through God’s lens?
When we don’t misconstrue.
When we don’t disfigure through perception.
When we don’t guess at what might be.
But instead…
When we trust. When we know. When we take the ramp to Trusting Jesus, our freak out dance turns to a worship dance.
And what others see in us, is Him.

what we know,

is that He is in control.

Freak out derailed. Peace pursuit intact. Kingdom building on point.

No spider in sight.

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