You know how you have those days, or weeks, where you feel like hey, I’ve got this. It’s a challenge, but I’ve got myself and my stuff and thangs together (said in my best Rick Grimes voice).
And then one day …
You just don’t anymore? (no? Just me? … okay then.)
That’s how I’ve felt for a few weeks. I know keeping my eyes on Christ is the answer. I know we have to suffer through things in this world because, well … it’s the world. It’s life.
Sometimes life looks like vacationing in Spokane with your husband for a perfect fall weekend, snuggling with your babies in a peaceful home while they do handicrafts, or playing with your baby goats in the barn.
Sometimes, maybe more often than not during certain seasons, life looks worse than messy. Sometimes life looks like getting to the ball field 30 minutes late for the game because you thought it was a 7pm game, (it was a 6pm game) only to have them end the game 15 minutes early… he played 10 minutes.
It looks like barely rescuing your goat after she broke into the feed room, and spending a week watching her non-stop, up all hours of the night to be sure she is still up and moving-and knowing that most people really don’t understand why that takes priority over so many other things.
It looks like not going to bed until after 11pm because your brain won’t turn off, over-sleeping in the morning, getting a late start to your already frazzled day, not reading to your children because there is no energy, and crying over everything, or anything … or nothing; when all you want to do is sit down and read to your children. Or be in Memphis with your dying grandmother (knowing that’s not what she wants). It looks like throwing yourself into fixing the water softener, oiling the sink (who knew?!), and scrubbing floors because they’re things you can do.
Sometimes life feels like exhaustion bundled up in worry, on a plate of depression with thoughts that never stop, a heart that hurts, and a longing for someone close.
My husband left for Scotland late June 15th, the day before my brother’s would-be 35th birthday. We spent the days leading up to his travels knowing that my Granny would probably take her last breath while he was gone, but she would have done everything in her power to make sure he didn’t miss that trip.
I sent her flowers June 14th. She saw them during her brief wakeful moments; my mom said she cried. Family came to see her, she ate and visited, said her goodbyes, and went to sleep. We knew it would be soon. Her husband came home to see her Friday the 15th, (he was recovering in a facility with a broken hip); Granny didn’t wake up to see him, but she knew he was there.
I sent my mom a text that evening to please let me know as soon as she knows. 5 minutes later, at 6:45, she text me. (well, she called but my phone didn’t ring because we live in the middle of nowhere, then she texted me.)
The bright side? Granny got to celebrate Jeremy’s birthday with him; she always gave the best gifts.
We all knew she was going to die, we all prayed it would be peaceful. I think I didn’t expect it to happen so soon; but looking back I think many, many signs were there. And then you know how you don’t expect to be super sad knowing someone is terminally ill- you’ve had forever to prepare-but then you are really sad? Yea. It’s that.
… piled on top of everything else.
On top of: daily swim lessons, 2 games of Tball each week, weekly vision therapy, driving to violin, and my husband being far away-all things that are brief (just a few weeks long) and normally no big deal, are suddenly heavy weights on my shoulders.
So right now life feels like a tornado is ripping through everything. I know it will be over soon, but man is it leaving a mess in it’s path.
Granny would say, “Let go and let God.” I’m not sure exactly what to let go of; if it’s the grief, the regrets, all the things, or my own expectations …
God is so good. I was writing this post, crying and generally being frustrated with myself for throwing a pity party & wanting my husband home, when I received a text from 2 of my absolute favorite ladies, who I miss dearly.
Grace is a gift which lays upon the blood of Jesus. If we can’t show ourselves grace when life is messy, it can be hard to show it to others.
Sometimes grace looks like your 5.5 year old boy not asking why you’re crying, but wrapping his arms around you and saying, “It’s okay, Mama. You can cry.”
Sometime grace is taking a break. Sometimes it is getting back to it. Although I know structure makes our days smoother, the last month has just been so different I decided to break from school. It was at my children’s insistence that I finally caved into the school routine again! We always school year round with breaks here and there for vacations, and then harvesting/canning in late summer, but I am thankful we have lightly added it back into our days. Everyone is happier, including me. =)
Oh, thank you Lord for your simple reminders, the friendships that bind, and what I know will be easier days soon.
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