I had grand plans for this week.
I should have known.
We were supposed to be getting back into our happy home routine!
Monthly trip to the butcher way across town, and he has no bacon. There goes my food plans for the month. Take a chicken instead? Great, but one chicken isn't gonna cover for the four or five meals I had planned around bacon!
Laundry's clean and folded, but still manages to be sitting on my little one's bed......actually, taking over her bed might be a better way of putting it.
Kitchen trash can has been overflowing now for four days straight, though I know I've told quite a few people to take it out. Pretty sure I've even seen it go out a couple of times.....who is filling my trash can when I'm not looking?
Sewing machine and project are still piled in the hallway floor.....the project I was working on a week and a half ago.
Daughter asks me when we are going to have Family Fun Night again, because obviously we've not been having any "family fun" lately.
School was going to be exciting and inspiring.
We were planning to start on time every day with the morning chores already done.
Everything would work so smoothly that we would have time to weave in the extras.
Quite sure not a single chore has actually gotten done this week.
We've had the teething issues with the World's Worst Teether, including several sleepless nights.
A three year old has decided that she wants to be Baby again, because evidently she's not receiving enough cuddles. Need I tell you that I feel like she's attached to some part of me about 16 hours of every day?
No single room in this house can manage to stay clean for more than 12 seconds.....I know. I timed it.
Got one kiddo with a cough and a runny nose ~ you should hear her flute practice.
One is on the doorstep of becoming a young lady, and is struggling to keep her feet on the ground and her head out of the clouds ~
I can tell by the chaos she leaves in her wake.
A mama is tired of trying to keep this whole crazy boat afloat with a kind word on her tongue and a smile on her face. Most days it's been a grimace.
I'm worn out from trying to right this sinking ship.
Today it was all I could do keep my mouth shut, hence the episode with the pillow.
If I could have followed what I felt like doing, it would have been to run away.
My emotions would have sent me running to any place that was QUIET.
I'm tempted to hop on the computer and look at pretty pictures of what I want my life to look like right now rather than actually deal with my surroundings.
I want to point fingers, blame anybody but myself.
I want this problem fixed, but I can't seem to fix it.
On a scale of 1 to 10 on how well I managed the ups and downs of life this week, I would definitely have to say that I was closer to the bottom than the top.
Hard because I abhor failing.
My pride screams out that it shouldn't be like this.
My arrogance hates to admit to having bad days.
My sense of self-righteousness tells me I should be able to hold it all together.
My ego tells me it must be everyone else's fault.
My emotions want pity.
And so I crash onto my bed, pull the pillow over my ears, and try to gather up the shreds of my sanity.
I have to keep it together.
I don't want to look bad.
All the other things I've tried haven't worked....I'll try the "spiritual route."
My mind careens from verse to verse, trying to find something to grab onto.
I search my mind for all the things I have to be thankful for......I know they are there, but I'm drawing a blank.
I feel myself sinking beneath the waves of despair.
Nothing I'm doing's working...
Then God throws out a life preserver.
Today, it's in the form of my husband.
He's in the house today studying, and he's noticed the deep sighs, the bulging veins in the neck, the rolling eyes, the gritted teeth, the shrillness in the voice.
He sees my need, and he offers to help.
My pride wants to rear it's ugly head, to proclaim that I can do it by myself.
I now have a choice: I can admit that I'm desperate and failing and risk looking bad, or I can accept the truth.
I can take the offered hand and admit my soul-crushing need, or I can lie to myself.
The lie will only be to me however, because everybody who has seen me this week already knows the truth.
I am undone.
I am weak.
I am a sinner.
I need saving.
Suddenly it hits me that this isn't really about my husband thinking less of me.
No, this is bigger than that.
This is me admitting that I'm not enough, can never be enough.
My run-away feelings, my poor choices, my rough circumstances, my lack of surrender all make up the sea I find myself struggling in this week, but I don't have to drown in it.
God's has worked all these things together for me, for this moment.
He wants to see my vessel righted, following the course He's put before me.
He just desires to see a different Captain at the helm;
the One who can pilot my life through any storm.