Surrendering the Tote
In the early aughts, there was a mom trend where your tote bag had slots to place pictures, a little mobile photo gallery if you will. My mom had one, and she bought me one. She immediately filled hers with grandkid pix.
Me? I didn’t touch it.
Inside those openings were the models. A dad fishing with his smiling son. The little girl showing off her missing front teeth. Those perfect family moments that are designed to make you buy that tote bag to create memories of your own.
My reality was far from smiles and picture perfect.
We had just moved 300 miles away from everyone and everything I had ever known. My dad had recently passed, and I left behind a grieving mother and sister. Our daughter was chronically ill and we left behind an entire care team.
It was brutal.
In the move, my husband got off to a great start, especially at church. He joined the choir and met amazing people. Our son was in a school full of boys. Our daughter was in therapies that were helping her close the gap in her delays.
I was pushing them all forward without working on myself. I carried that tote bag around with no pictures of my own. The models would have to do.
One morning I had the tote bag over my shoulder and I was chatting with a group of ladies in the church sanctuary. A woman asked how I was doing?
Without a beat, I said I was fine.
Another woman pointed at the bag. “Oh, what a lovely idea! Look at those pictures. Is this your daughter?”
I laughed and brought the bag to my front. “No, I never filled the slots. Those came with the bag.” I chuckled. “It’s my fake family.”
As soon as I said that, a little download entered my brain that I believe was a nudge from the Holy Spirit. Do you mean fake like your answer? Because you are not fine.
Whoa. I was in church, CHURCH, lying without a blink of an eye. I told them I was fine. That was my token answer.
My dad passed away months before at a very young 64.
But I’m telling you I’m fine.
My daughter nearly died months before and still is quite sick.
But I’m telling you I’m fine.
I left all my friends who lifted me up and encouraged me to enter a new Sunday School where only one person greeted me.
But I’m telling you I’m fine.
I wasn’t fine.
That day I resolved to carry that bag with me as accountability. If anyone asked how I was, I wasn’t going to give a pat answer. I wouldn’t hold anyone against their will with hours of my sob story, but I’d be honest.
That really helped me. It took a while to catch myself and switch gears, but women were invested in me. They let me cry, grieve, and vent.
I spent a lot of time telling God the truth. He knew it anyway, so I knew I had to stop pretending. I was mad that the baby I struggled to have nearly died. Mad my dad was gone. Mad I was so alone in this new state. I was mad at God, and guess what? My telling Him that didn’t throw the earth off track. If anything He was probably like, “There we go. I’ve been waiting for the truth.”
My guess is since 2020 none of us have been truly fine. Anxiety is off the charts. Finances are unpredictable. People are literally sick and tired. But if asked, what are you saying? Are you telling them you’re fine?
I challenge you to consider your answer. If you aren’t fine, surrender that tote bag with the fake family. Find trusted friends that you can share with. They can’t solve it, but they can hold you up. In prayer. With cookies on your doorstep. With a text that says they are thinking about you.
That tote bag? I still have it. I never did put my pictures in it. My mom passed three years ago, and I also have her tote bag full of real pictures.
Am I fine? Not completely. I’m getting there.
And you will too.
As for the chocolate mention, do you have a chocolate go-to when stressed? I’m not saying the healthiest choice, but I’m being honest. Often that’s the first choice for me. When I’m over-the-top stressed I make chocolate milk and drink it like I’m at a saloon and the bartender is going to slide another. The week of my wedding we had a plastic Aladdin cup from some fast food promo where Genie turned colors when cold. That poor genie was busy that week as I kept knocking back that chocolate milk!
Resources that helped me:
Reading now:
What about you? How are you REALLY doing?
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