Never give yourself an excuse. That's the lesson I've learned this week.
My efforts to give myself a little time off back on Thursday have gone disastrously awry, blog-wise. I put up a short post and ended up missing the next two. I mostly blame you--yes, you. Without the uproar and clamor, the indignant cries of outrage at the lack of posting, the bitter recriminations about my moral laxity and poor personal hygiene, I just couldn't see the point. It became just that much more clear that my postings are entirely for myself, a kind of narcissistic gurgitation spit out at the electrons.
You can tell it's very late, can't you? I'm not 100% certain I'm actually fully awake, so keep that in mind.
But my inner life has just kind of gone off the rails this week. It's been headed that way for a bit, but it seems to have jumped the shark entirely. I've had some incredible high points--a delightful drive through the fall colors up to Big Bear and down to Redlands the other day, some real moments of peace, hashing out some issues with God and feeling, for one of the few times in my life, like I'm after Him in a serious way. Everything else, however, is crashing: I've been endlessly frustrated by the boys who seem hell-bent on doing whatever they can to disobey and then look astonished and hurt when punishment must be dealt out (is there such a phenomenon as the Fearsome Fours? Man). I've been eating like some kind of animal famed for its enormous appetite (it'll come to me in a minute), gorging myself for no reason I can fathom and feeling sick most of the time because of it. I've gotten a bit more sleep but it doesn't feel like it's doing any good. I've not really been helping around the house like I should, and I'm continually annoyed by all that needs to be done, which translates somewhere back in my reptillian brain into annoyance at Joanna, which is utterly unfair as she's wearing herself out as it is. And the times I've set aside for grading have been a total bust. I tried to just mark some 101 papers for grammar the other day and thought my head was going to split in two. I nearly wept.
Whoops--just had to run out because Denver, having complained of a stomach ache earlier, was sleeping in our bed and just fell out, waking up the baby, who turned out to have sprung a diaper leak and now demands to be fed. What an evening. Kind of how everything is going right now.
I like to imagine I'm being tested. If so, though, I don't think I'm passing. I am barely scraping through. I've got to figure out how to use my time in an intelligent manner and how to do all that is needful while still having a little sliver of time left for all these "other things" that would seem to constitute my calling in life. Otherwise this whole show is going to come to a spectacularly ugly end.
It'll be interesting to watch, at least.
4 comments:
You know, I know that it dosen't help much at all, but I think there is something in the air. Some sort of cosmic force, a shift, *something*. Because in talking to folks, what you're going through (the generalities, not the specifics) are not uncommon. Everyone I know seems to be having a rough time of it lately. It's not *disaterous*, just... rough. Stressed. Like you have just a bit too much on your plate, and don't quite know where to cut stuff out.
I've been so psycho-busy lately that I haven't had time to keep up with anyone's blog - so I'm catching up now on my forced day off. :)
Cheers!
When I am weak, then am I strong
(2 Corinthians 12:10)
Wow, your other friends are so nice. Me, I don't have time. I, like you, have many hats to wear and not enough time for the donning of them all. So let's just hit the high points....
You fail to blog= my fault
Children acting like normal four year olds= much annoyance and warm bottoms
Chasing down Jesus= life has become, well... you begin to wonder if God has said to the devil, "have you considered my servant Mike?"
How am I doing so far?
As for your dropping of the blog writing ball and my lack of outrage, well, what can I say? Clearly, I am at fault and need to be more voiciforous about you being a slacker.
Check.
I'm on it.
Count on me to ride your ass from here on out.
And for everything else... lack of grading papers, children making you nuts, guilt over the children making you nuts, the crazy eating, the being pissed at the disorganized mangle your life has become, well... it's very simple. You're tired.
I am a housekeeper, a caterer, a personal chef, an event cordinator, a youth pastor (still amazed by that one), a mother of two, and a wife of one. I know what tired is. And this particular brand comes from being overwhelmed. I know what it is to see everything that lies in wait for you- your days fill up with obligations and you try to find time for family and the chasing of dreams and a better tomorrow and all the rest of the important stuff, but you have deadlines on this day, and this day, and this day, and have to be at a meeting on that day, have meetings ALL day this day, and are expected to be here for this thing that day and that day, and so on and so forth. And the light, the grace you've been given? You can take some of your work home with you so as to get caught up on work and family time all at once! Two stones with one bird and all that. Huzzah.
It doesn't work though does it? For awhile it seems to. Fake it till you make it, right? You think, I can do it. I can do it. Little engine that could syndrome. But the rub is- you can't. And things start to build up, threatening to overwhelm you. Then the recriminations start- I'm not organized enough. I'm not motivated enough. I'm selfish. Shouldn't have watched TV today or read that book or (insert guilty de-stress activity here). All my friends seem to be able to get their lives together- why is mine so chaotic? I'm lacking in some way. All those nasty, anxious voices. So you think, maybe I bit off more than I can chew. Can you drop one thing? Anything? Not really, huh? People are relying on you. Your family, your collegues, your students, your teachers. No way out and all those obligations? They have become a titan, pounding on your front door and you can't sleep you have too much to do, but you're so tired. No way out remember.
The quallity of your life is shite when sleeping is a guilty pleasure (that's my little bumper sticker philosophy gift to you).
So what to do?
Randori and Jesus.
When I went in to interview for the youth pastor gig the church staff was concerned about my ability to minister AND run Grapes and Peas AND be a good wife/mother/seeker of Christ. "How do you plan to do all that," they asked. I thought, I don't know. You tell me. Please. But what popped out of my mouth was, "randori".
Welcome to the dojo! You're tori for this exercise or what we westeners like to call, "it". You will stand in the center of a circle of ninjas and they will rotate around you. The Shidoshi has given them each a number. She will call out a number at random and that ninja will attack you, with hands, staff, or whatever this particular exercise calls for. It is your job to fend off the attacks, so you're not bloody at the end of the game (no promises though). The real fun begins when the ninjas begin to circle faster and faster and the Shidoshi calls out two, three, some times, four numbers at once! A challenging game. Fun for everyone. Good luck and don't forget your mouth guard.
Oddly enough (or maybe not so odd) I like randori. I find it strangely calming. You see when you first do it, it's easy to get overwhelmed. You can get freaked out waiting for an attack, trying to watch everyone at once. Thing is- you can't. You can't watch everyone at once and that's the trick. Don't look too closely and get caught up in the details. Don't anticipate. Wait for each attack and respond, then go back to waiting. So that's the plan (or part of it). I told the church staff that I would deal with each obligation as it presented itself and not get freaked out by overwhelming numbers. Wait, respond, go back to waiting.
The second half of my plan was, of course, our Savior. You know, the one who saves. Saves me from sin. Saves me from myself. Saves me from my schedule. Saves my sanity. Saves my joy. Saves my skin. He's in the circle with me and we wait together. When the attack comes sometimes He let's me enjoy the battle myself. Other times I need Him to teach me, to lead the attack or show me how to parry. Other times it's all I can do to hold the sword and He has to wrap His arms around me and lend me His strength. The worst is when I'm so beaten that I lack the desire to even pray. But still He's there. But then He's the avenging warrior, blood soaked robe and sword ready. Because it's more then randori- more than practice. We're at war.
I look at situations like mine and yours and I wonder how much of this is the enemy dickin' with us? Why is he bent on stealing my joy? Why is he trying to make me feel as though my blessings are suffocating me? Why does he try to make me question my identity, my choices? Most of all, I wonder who am I that the enemy fears me so? Who are you?
I'm Beloved. And I can handle all things with Christ Jesus who strengthens me. And if I can't handle it, if I am deceieved by the enemies lies, well, Jesus likes to remind me that He calms the wind and the waves, He set the foundations of the earth, organzing my schedule, giving me eyes to see the small blessings as well as the large, teaching me to let go (without guilt) when somethings gotta give, teaching me to be brave, or to be patient, or to just endure, well all that is a piece cake for the One who set the stars in the sky.
It's a thought that keeps my panties from getting in a bunch when life is crazy.
So pony up Michael. Remember who you are Beloved. Remember you are made in the image of a warrior king. All this crap in your life, all this chaos is just the enemy trying to distract you. Don't let him. He doesn't get to win. Remember who you are Beloved. Let your Father teach you to fight, or lend you His strength. The joy of the Lord is our strength, yes? Don't be robbed of that joy, marvel instead at the lover of your soul. Remember who you are Beloved. Now, it's late and I gotta go bake some butterscotch pumpkin muffins for a very early gig tomorrow. You, you go out and kick ass and take names for Jesus.
Smooches upon you and yours.
-B
Wowsers.
I don't know how to respond to that, or that a response is called for in any sense.
What I can say is, thank you, sister, for a convicting and lovely reminder. That's one of the best pep talks I've heard.
God uses all of us in His time. i think He just used you. Thank you for being His agent. You're the empress (I'd say you're the queen, but Joanna has that job, and Madeline is now the princess).
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