FIRE

"We always live what we believe; we just don't always live what we profess to believe."

This smoke detector is about 3 feet from my oven.

My oven is the original oven to the house. It has one temperature - hot. That's it. It doesn't matter what temperature the recipe says, you will be cooking on "hot."

It doesn't matter how many times you clean it, if you use it, it causes a smokey smell.

Which sets off this smoke detector.

And the people in my house that are tall enough to reach it, have no patience with it. They harshly push it ejecting the battery so it no longer alarms.

The smoke is still there.

The concern is that no one comes running when the smoke alarm goes off.

There has not once been a fire in my kitchen (thank you Jesus) in the last 20 years.

As I sat on my couch yesterday with my rice bag on my tense shoulders, I realized I've become like this smoke detector.

Super sensitive.

My mind is swarming, and even though there is no fire, my body is setting off.

I can recognize the physical symptons of stress.

I've learned that I can't just eject the battery.

I have to stop and respond to the smoke.

Because even though the smoke doesn't mean fire, it does mean something is askew.

If we train our minds and body to ignore the smoke, then when there is fire, we won't respond.

Or by the time there is fire, we'll be ill equipped to respond.

Here's the thing I've learned.

My smoke detector sets off based on the narrative I've chosen to tell.

My version of the story.

A writer I love says to think "The story I'm telling myself is...."

Because in every story there are multiple interpertations.

"Storytelling helps us all impose order on chaos—including emotional chaos. When we're in pain, we create a narrative to help us make sense of it. This story doesn't have to be based on any real information." (in the comments is a link to read more if you want to!)

The story I make up decides if my smoke alarm goes off or not.

Mama Warriors, there is only one true narrative.

Psalm 23.

A Psalm of David.

23 The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.

2 He makes me lie down in green pastures.

He leads me beside still waters.[a]

3 He restores my soul.

He leads me in paths of righteousness[b]

for his name's sake.

4 Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,[c]

I will fear no evil,

for you are with me;

your rod and your staff,

they comfort me.

5 You prepare a table before me

in the presence of my enemies;

you anoint my head with oil;

my cup overflows.

6 Surely[d] goodness and mercy[e] shall follow me

all the days of my life,

and I shall dwell[f] in the house of the Lord

forever.[g]

If I can stop my own spiral, remind myself of the true narrative, then I can stop the spiral.

The true narrative is there is no fire.