There are days that I would much rather hide under the covers than emerge, and most certainly not as a friendly, perky mom. Or even a semi alert one.
I’d rather stay in bed. Maybe sleep for 3 days. And get back with ya later, kid.
Sometimes the thought of another day, especially if it even mildly resembles the one that just screeched to a halt {merciful God}, makes me tear up.
Days a little like today.
The combination of 2 sick {read: snot-streaked, whiney, clingy} kids, a weary {read: tired, back-injured, night-working} hubby I rarely see alone for more than 10 seconds, a pounding headache, sore throat and a mysterious crick that sends sharp pain up my neck with every little move I make, and a home that seems to self-destruct every hour {tidiness wise}, makes moving to the North Pole – alone – look awfully appealing.
Not really. But you get the idea.
I have nothing tangible to show for my day. Well, except a messy house and mucous-encrusted clothes.
It’s easy to lose sight of what matters when every room of your house – including your car – has developed a personality of it’s own. And I’m not talking decor.
My attitude tends to get aromatic on these days. You know…its stinks.
You see, I don’t want to do any more laundry. Maybe we could all boycott clothes and join a nudist colony? That would be good for the environment, right? And I don’t feel like washing the dishes. As soon I the kitchen is clean….low and behold…it’s time for another meal. And I’m tired of feeding little {and big} mouths anyway. I declare a McMillan family fast! 30 days. No food. Unless you can pull it off without me knowing about it {as in: you get it yourself, and clean up after yourself. properly}. And seriously…could we use tissues for our noses instead of mom’s shirt. And hand. And cheek. And then there’s the floor? Dude, I swear I sweep it daily, if not more, and yet still…there’s a 5-freaking-course meal strewn on it. Don’t even get me started on the bathrooms. I don’t even want to go there! Literally.
Being a mom stinks sometimes.
Okay. I’m done.
I seem to forget in moments like these that being someone who’s not a mom stinks a plenty too. And being a sick child is no fun either. Nor is being a weary, bread-winning, nocturnal man.
Life just stinks sometimes.
It’s easy to get narrow-minded. I gripe. I moan. My peripheral vision gets blurry and suddenly all I can see…is me. And the parts of my current situation that cause me discomfort. Inward focused, short-sightedness. Like a bad toenail.
And yet I know how blessed I am. How outrageously wonderful my life is. I really do know. And yet I so easily lose sight of it. I can’t even begin to grasp the enormity of the loss, injustice and tragedy around the globe. It’s mind blowing. The disease. The poverty. The bloodshed.
I have it so good.
I HAVE IT SO GOOD!
It’s astounding how selfish I can be, without even recognizing it as such. Sure, there’s validity to how I feel. Acknowledging it is valuable and important. But, here’s the kicker: settling in and living in this “stinkin’ thinkin” does me no good at all. In fact it wreaks havoc on the entire climate of our home.
Life isn’t always pretty.
But here’s the catch: I can choose to be a thermometer, simply “reading” the temperature, or I can choose to be intentional about becoming a thermostat; one who – despite the circumstances – changes and SETS the climate.
It’s up to me. Which will I choose?
Today I soaked up grace, but didn’t even recognize it enough to enjoy it. To appreciate it’s existence in my life.
Graham Cooke says, “there are no longer good days and bad days…just days of grace. Some days it’s grace to enjoy. Other days it’s grace to endure”.
Tonight we left the house – in pursuit of light-hearted, Halloween”ish” dress-up opportunities for the wee babes {which we found at a local church} – and it was an exhausting endeavor {keeping in mind: the slowly recovering kids, weary husband, my cricked-out neck, and then throw in some jam-packed hallways, more dressed-up bodies than you can shake a stick at – what does that mean, anyway?, and just enough sugar to make a toddler think bedtime is for the birds}.
It has not fun. For the adults. It was pure joy for our kids. And we decided their delight was enough to make it worth the hassle.
So as I sit and type, it’s almost 1 in the morning. The laundry is not put away. Clean baskets of it sit stacked in my bedroom. The kitchen is semi-clean {thank you, magical cup of coffee}. My car is still trashed, the winter clothes are still in tubs. Emails wait, unread. Design work sits, unfinished. My book lays, untouched. The bathrooms are still…bathrooms.
And I’m choosing not to care.
Because I chose to sit down and do “nothing” with my children today, even if my attitude was poopy at times, and it was the best darn thing I did all day.
As hard as it is to admit; if it were not for the valleys in our lives, what would distinguish the mountains from the plains?
I love how Chuck Swindoll puts it: “The longer I live, the more I realize the impact of attitude on life…The remarkable thing is we have a choice everyday regarding the attitude we will embrace for that day. We cannot change our past… we cannot change the fact that people will act in a certain way. We cannot change the inevitable. The only thing we can do is play on the one string we have, and that is our attitude. I am convinced that life is 10% what happens to me and 90% of how I react to it. And so it is with you… we are in charge of our Attitudes.”
Do I realize the power I hold to impact my day – and the little lives that observe -simply by the attitude I take? By the agreements I make: “this will never change, life sucks!” vs. “I have everything I need to succeed…this too shall pass…God is good, life is sweet!”
It’s my choice.
ps. I have decided not to move to the North Pole.
”Don’t fret or worry. Instead of worrying, pray. Let petitions and praises shape your worries into prayers, letting God know your concerns. Before you know it, a sense of God’s wholeness, everything coming together for good, will come and settle you down. It’s wonderful what happens when Christ displaces worry at the center of your life…
Summing it all up, friends, I’d say you’ll do best by filling your minds and meditating on things true, noble, reputable, authentic, compelling, gracious—the best, not the worst; the beautiful, not the ugly; things to praise, not things to curse. Put into practice what you learned from me, what you heard and saw and realized. Do that, and God, who makes everything work together, will work you into his most excellent harmonies…
I’ve learned by now to be quite content whatever my circumstances. I’m just as happy with little as with much, with much as with little. I’ve found the recipe for being happy whether full or hungry, hands full or hands empty. Whatever I have, wherever I am, I can make it through anything in the One who makes me who I am.”
Some of my favorite parts of Philippians 4:6-14 {Message}
