Three Weeks

For the past three weeks, we have missed church. Between illnesses and snow storms, weekends have been a buckle down the hatches and survive, rather than a restful period. This week I was the one that ruined the weekend. This stomach bug that is making its rounds through our family seems to have a week long incubation period, followed by 24 hours of gross misery followed by 4-5 days of recovery. Not a fun time.

It has been convenient that it has hit on the weekends and snow days so that I haven't missed any work days due to illness, and it has been nice that we have had so many snow days that I have been able to rest and recover on. But there has been nothing like a normal routine or daily schedule to keep us moving ahead. Every day it feels like winging it and ending with, "Well, it could have been worse."

But as I sit at home, for the third week missing church, I am beginning to feel the weight of it all.

There is the weight of work. So many kids need attention, support, and love. There is so much brokenness and so much hurt. I want to hug them and tell them "I love you" every day, but there are the other pressures to get stuff done, so that I can't just sit and talk with them and get to know them. But I do have to get things done, and that is another weight. There is so much to do and it feels like I am barely doing any of it. I keep loosing track of things, balancing out what is most important and preparing for the future.

There is the weight of home life. There is so much to do here too. There is the daily chores, just trying to keep up with clothes, dishes, and food. Then there are the bigger projects of cleaning and organizing and making this house more like the home we want it to be. On top of that, teaching the boys how to help take care of things takes so much more time and energy than just doing it myself, but I know there is a benefit in taking the time to teach them. But what we all want to do is sit around and read books and play games together, which also takes time, that I feel like I don't have.

Then there is the weight of inner life. I am not the person I want to be. I am proud and independent in all the wrong ways. I keep finding news ways that I am selfish and lazy. I have a story in my head that eats into the time I should be spending on people. I am constantly around people who I serve, and I want a break from people, but then I feel lonely. I snap out in anger and frustration. I trust my emotions rather than what I know to be true. There is a constant inner struggle in everything I do.

But today, Sunday, as I sit at home, pondering the weight I am carrying, I hear the sweet words of Jesus in Matthew 11:28-30, "Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light." Psalm 55 says,

Cast your cares on the Lord
    and he will sustain you;
he will never let
    the righteous be shaken.

And 1 Peter 5 reminds me, "Humble yourselves, therefore, under God’s mighty hand, that he may lift you up in due time. Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you."

Yes, Sunday is and should be a day of rest, but this rest is offered every day. This fellowship with my Creator and Savior is not limited to a place or time. I may be too sick to go to church, but I am not cut off from his love or presence. 

And by his grace, I will be able to go to church next week. 

The Death of a Blog?

It has been a long time since I sat down and wrote my thoughts. I tried journaling in a real book this past year. And I wrote down some stories that were floating around in my head. But that has caused my other writing, my processing writing to suffer.

In this past month, there have been so many times that I have thought, I should just sit and blog about that, but the fact that I haven't written in so long scared the thought into inaction. Tonight, after four days at home, I finally feel that I have collected my wits enough to sit down and write, but alas, all those wonderful ideas to write about have flown out of my head.

So instead I am pondering writing and processing and storytelling and how fast life changes. I went back to work, just recess. Then I went back to work part time. Now every day is filled with just trying to survive and get everything done. I am constantly trying to re-work my schedule so that I can get one more thing done, but I am still desperately behind. At the end of the day, I feel that I can barely think, let alone get something done. Is it laziness or exhaustion that keeps me from accomplishing anything after the boys have gone to bed?

But tonight I am writing. Tonight, I am not going to let the physical state of my house determine what I have gotten done. I will remember the outline that I worked hard on over the past few days. I will plan how to accomplish the next set of goals. And I will, eventually, get around to throwing out those piles of unfinished projects on the play room table, and in boxes in the attic, and scattered around the house. I will focus on what projects are most important to me (and my family) and keep them, while accepting that some of these projects are not mine to do.

That is my resolution for the year. Choose which projects to focus on, and work on them. Maybe that will be the processing of another post.