Wednesday, August 10, 2011

Crazy Mess

On days like this, I try to talk myself out of blogging.  "Girl, folks don't be needin' to know all that crazy mess!" 

I started this blogspot for me.  To keep a grateful, joyful perspective.  I have never been dishonest here.  Though I am a  conservative person by nature, I really try to be open and transparent.

But sometimes my summations can have a bit of a glow that may not have been so apparent in real life.  Philip calls it my "little blog spin".  One time he read something I wrote about him.  He said, "That's awesome, and I know you're tying to show honor and respect, but I'm not sure you always feel that way about me." 

Well, of course I don't ALWAYS feel that way. 

But writing the truth...whether it feels right at the time...can set me free and help me find peace.  There are other times, when sharing feelings...whether they are reality or not...can set me free to conquer pride and rest in authenticity.

Well, today would require a heckuva spin...

Self-Discipline is hard work.  Marriage is hard work.  Parenting is hard work.  Housework is hard work.   Relationships of every kind are hard work.  Stewardship is hard work.  This sounds awful, but compassion and patience and love seem like HARD WORK.  Are we sensing a pattern??

Yesterday was tiring and with a late night of bathing and bedding little girls, reading through teens' texts, and catching up with the husbandry....this morning did not seem fresh or new.  It seemed like a continuation of blecky yesterday.  I woke up to Philip's work keys jingling at his belt as he approached for a good-bye hug.  Hungry, inquisitive girls seemed to flock in the moment he was gone, while non-responsive man-cubs with many responsibilities lay groaning, motionless in their beds.

I had only been vertical for 4 minutes and I was already peeved in many ways.  How can two boys use THIS many towels?  No wonder I do laundry all day.  Yes, I will call the doctor as soon as they open and try to get you an appointment for that wound that won't heal.  THIS is why we wash our hands and clip our nails and tell our mom when we have a bump behind our ear!  Why won't the water drain in my sink??  Barbie barbers.  Lovely. 

Why is EVERY trash can in our home filled to the brim and why does EVERY person in this home demand to add their article of refuse on the top of the trash tower like a game of jenga instead of changing the bag??  Why did Philip say that last night?  Did he mean it?  What is my problem?  Why is it still on my brain this morning?  Why didn't my plan for the July budget work?  Where did that money go?  Why won't she poop in the potty?  Surely it's preferable to the alternative.!

Petty.  Particularly perturbed by petty petty peeves.

No bueno.

On mornings like this, I realize this overarching attitude of annoyance is really a decoy for my troubled emotions.  If I can freak out about a bunch of stupid stuff, then I don't have to be consumed by more hefty issues of the heart.  Like...

Why doesn't my child have a close friend?  How is my cancer-fighting cousin feeling this morning?  Am I meeting all my husband's needs.  Should I mention my need he seems to constantly overlook?  Why is my child with plenty friends so mean sometimes?  How badly am I messing up these poor children who spend so much time with me?  Did I say the right thing to my friend who needed advice?  Why don't I pray more?  Should I tell that lady I can lead the Bible study, or would that be just way too much?  Is the Lord remotely pleased with me right now??

More than one person have accused me of "always having an answer for everything".  I have opinions, educated guesses, experiential knowledge, high hopes, real expectancies, ridiculous ideas and I suppose lots of answers.  But could it be that I REALLY have a question for everything?


There you have it.  The crazy mess of my thoughts and fears and anxiety.  May our sweet heavenly Father help me stop working so hard and may He give me courage to depend upon Him for every answer to every His perfect His perfect Son.

Mandisa has a new album out.  This is the title cut...and the cry of my heart:)

What If We Were Real (click to listen - scroll to read)

Well, I'm tired of saying everything
I feel like I'm supposed to say
I'm tired of smiling all the time
I wanna throw the mask away
Sometimes you just have a bad day
Sometimes you just wanna scream
Tell me I'm not the only one
Tell me that you feel just like me

We keep tryin to make it look so nice
And we keep hidin' what's goin on inside
But what if I share my brokenness
What if you share how you feel
And what if we weren't afraid of this crazy mess

What if we were real
What if we were real

We'd think a little less of ourselves
We'd care about someone else
'Cause we'd know just how they feel
Maybe we could let someone love us
Maybe we'd be a little more like Jesus
Why can't we learn to be real