I Hate Love PMS

I used to hear women talk about PMS and had no idea what they were talking about. I didn't understand what was the big deal. And there were guys at the business where I worked before I had kids, who complained about their wives' PMSing. They talked about it, too, like it was a major deal which one should avoid at all costs.
And I continued in my bewilderment. Not "getting it." Not understanding why those three little letters incited such fear in the hearts of my co-workers. Wondering if everyone was making something out of nothing.
A few years ago, something happened in this body of mine and the reality of these horror stories was suddenly very clear to me. And I was agreeing PMS is something which a person may very well want to avoid at all costs.
The hormone roller coaster rides and resulting mood swings make me feel like a totally different person. And I don't like her.

Last night I could almost hear the click, click, click of cars climbing the first hill of the roller coaster.
Stupid little things were annoying me.
Noises which weren't really that loud were driving me to the edge.
Normal, imperfect behavior from my children was angering me.
Thoughts of running far, far away were appealing.

Click. Click. Click.

I listened to my husband playing a game with my daughter in the other room and started thinking things like, If I were a really good mom, I would be in there playing that game and laughing like they are. I'm no good.
Fortunately the Holy Spirit reminded me that statement was a lie. Even with the Truth, however, I was still feeling rotten. And my crabby mood remained through the rest of the night.
When I finally made it to bed, I just laid there and prayed. I was telling God exactly how I felt (As if He didn't already know...) and I was asking Him to hold me and love me as I slept. I was sure of my disdain for myself and my mood, but somehow I was more sure of God's love for me and my desperate need for Him. I fell asleep talking to Him, and I am confident Jesus wrapped His arms around me and held me in His love as I slept.
And I did feel better when I awoke this morning.

But as the morning hours faded and the day wore on, the indicators of PMS became more pronounced. I got to the point when talking to my boys (about something I would be able to handle on a "normal" day) that I couldn't get a word out without tears escaping as well.
Joshua asked, "Mom, are you crying?"
I just said, "Honey, do you remember what I told you about girls and their hormones, and how sometimes they cry at simple things?"
He nodded.
"That's what is happening with me right now. It's OK. Ignore the tears, but please listen to the words."
Joshua seemed to understand, and Matthew just hugged me. I finished what I needed to say then went into my room and just cried some more.

I feel so pathetic putting this event into words. I've already had second and third thoughts about publishing this post. But God has put it on my heart to write this, so - trusting there is someone who needs to read it - I will click on "publish" in a few minutes.

Back to me crying in my bathroom...I did a little Pull-it-together-Karen pep talk and determined to move on with my day. Don't know why it is but usually after I have myself a good cry life seems a little easier to manage, and I can face the rest of the day with greater confidence. Maybe excess hormones are released through my tear ducts? LOL
So it was today. I am feeling much better now.

In the midst of the emotional and hormonal mess of this thing called PMS, I know God was still loving me. And that amazes me.
I was reading a blog post recently about blessings disguised as curses - how sometimes the things which seem just awful to us end up being a tremendous source of God's love and blessing. And as I reflect on my monthly hormone surge, I am learning to see there is blessing in it.
Almost every month I have a hands-on, in-your-face illustration of God's unconditional, un-ending, ever-present love for me.
For a period of 24-48 hours - when I can barely stand to be with myself - God reminds me of my desperate need and desire for Him. He loves me when I feel utterly un-lovable. And He holds me tenderly when, quite honestly, I don't want anyone else to touch me.
How God's love could be so deep and His patience so strong is completely beyond me. But it has brought me to the point of being able to be thankful for this thing called PMS.
Because when I am weak, He is strong.