Stress

If you are going to read this post, I must apologize on many levels. I tried to write a poem this morning. It started in the tone of Genesis and with lofty ideals. It quickly (VERY quickly) spiraled into the tone of Dr. Seuss. In my defense, I read a LOT of Dr. Seuss to Ethan this morning so it is kind of stuck in my brain. And I like his rhythm and rhyme, oh I like it a lot. I try to stop myself; I cannot! Oops - see! Perhaps most maddening of all, I have not finished it but I'm putting it here anyhow. I can't finish it yet. The last verse just happened this morning.
And so I just stopped - very much without warning! (But you've been warned.)

In the beginning there was stress

and it was bad.

Then God said "Give me your stress".

I gave Him all that I had.

Then Satan stepped in

and turned the wheels in my head.

"Don't you think it is better to feel stress?"

he said.

And I sat and I pondered

and I thought on the matter.

(All the while popping cookies -

my bottom grew fatter.)

And at last I decided

"Why yes! I should FEEL.

I've a right. I've been wronged.

I got a raw deal!

And so I decided

to worry and stew;

be obsessed with my problems.

What else could I do?

And now I'm a wreck.

My blood pressures high.

I'm tired, I'm cranky.

I think "I, I, I".

Now God whispers quietly

"I'm here, 'member me?

I told you I'd take all your stress,

set you free."

. . . to be continued.