Being Brave in the Face of the Enemy
Updated: Jan 7, 2020
By Shannon Toller

God's Brave Women - Shannon's Story
Barf, mucous and constant crying are not what they tell you to prepare for at a baby shower. No number of pretty onesies and diaper genies can prepare you for the feeling of helplessness you experience when you watch your kiddos get sick in every room of the house. And when you are occasionally joining in on this fun germ-sharing merry-go-round, it’s hard to keep the negative voices in your head at bay.
Your kids are sick because you’re a failure. You have no friends to call because you aren’t a good friend to anyone. Go ahead, reach out for help, no one will be there. You did this to yourself. Do you really think your kids care about you? Your husband could care less about you, I’m sure he’s already filing divorce papers. Get ready to repeat your childhood in your adulthood, Shannon. You just aren’t good enough. And you never ever will be.
Those are the thoughts that attacked me this morning after I yelled at my husband for trying to help me with a crying baby. Could I have just handed her over to him? Sure, but that wasn’t the point. I’m the mom. I’m supposed to be the one to kiss boo-boos, make lunches, keep the house in perfect working order and keep a level head through it all. “I don’t deserve a break; I need to be better.” That’s what I kept telling myself this morning as I was crying in tandem with my eighteen-month old. And then my husband went to work, and instead of taking him so we would have the car for the day, I decided to rest with the now-sleeping baby. So, I missed out on a coffee date with a friend and Derryn missed out on a playdate. Once that reality set in, the negative voices kicked in again.
This is why you had no friends in the mountains. This is why you will have no friends out here. Satan is making you tired, get over yourself Shannon. No one cares that you are feeling what you are feeling. Grow a pair. Somewhere out there, someone else is living a far harder life than you. You aren’t allowed to be this depressed. You are a white girl, living in suburbia – a stay at home mom to three girls. You have no right to be feeling what you’re feeling. No wonder no one wants to be your friend. You’re a loser.
It’s a minute by minute battle for me to speak life into myself. I can write a post (like this one) that I’m praying will encourage another mama in my shoes, but I don’t think it applies to the one writing it, actually wearing the shoes. Why do I think I’m not worthy of the love and encouragement I share with others? Perhaps it’s being a child of divorce or having a string of bad boyfriends before I finally found my prince. Maybe it's the constant shame I felt from family members that I wasn’t good enough, and I starte