Monday, January 20, 2014

For the Days When You Don't Want to Get Out of Bed


Some mornings are a fight.
A fight to get out of bed.
A fight to let go of the things that seem to pin me in place, make me want to stay right where I'm at.
Maybe if I don't move, the family will leave me alone.
Maybe if I breath quietly, lay very still, and keep my eyes closed shut just the right way, the world will keep slowly spinning around me, while I stretch out peacefully, calmly in the center.
The eye of the storm.


I don't have a bad life, in fact I have a good one.
But some mornings......well....
I just don't want to face the fact that the fridge is almost empty {it is Monday, grocery day, after all},
that breakfast must be cooked {with a bit of creativity because of said empty fridge},
that chores, and school, and weekend clean-up, and shopping list, and a hungry baby are waiting for me,
that I feel like I ran a marathon of wild dreams last night {thanks a lot, mozzarella-cheese-that-I-ate-right-before-bed!}
that included shooting a bow and arrow, catching a criminal, and learning a new Sunday school song that had matching choreography...
{you can make your own suppositions about my sanity at this point...}.


So I fight the day, the sunshine, the home noises calling me, the lip-smacking in the baby bed next to mine, the hunger in my own belly, the duties tugging, yanking me to face them.
To turn full-on and raise my fists, and let my blood race, and my temperature climb, and let the adrenaline rush through my veins and force me into this day I don't think I want.
But deep down I know.
I've been in this ring before.


I've learned that I must fight....but not the day.
I must fight....but not the responsibilities.
I must fight....but not with anger and attitude.
I must fight my flesh and my feelings and my fears.


So instead of rising angry and afraid,
I rise hoping.
I rise thanking.
I rise remembering how blessed I am.
I rise to face the almost empty fridge {which has a few morsels left hiding},
the breakfast that must be cooked {and comes together quite quickly for all those empty little ones},
the chores, and school, and weekend clean-up, and shopping list {that don't really look all that bad in the morning sunlight streaming through my front windows},
and the hungry baby {who stops crying to beam at mama}.


As I rise to dress, the weariness of the dream slips away, and I'm ready.
No longer ready for a fight, but ready for this day, this moment.


Ready to embrace this gift just as it has been given.

1 comment:

  1. I've been there, am there and will be there again. I'll I can say is, "Amen, sister! I know exactly what you mean!" :) Love you and am praying for you all! Miss you!

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