I. Am. Exhausted.
There are unpacked boxes scattered around my house because they're at the very bottom of my priority list. There are dishes in my sink that I swear I'm never going to find the end of because for every dish that I wash, three more replace it. There are piles of laundry in my living room and I can't comfortably say which ones are clean and which ones are dirty. There are unpacked suitcases in the office because they're out of sight and out of mind for me, and though they've only been there three days, I'm comfortable saying they'll be there for at least three more. Everything about my house either makes us look like hoarders or like we've been robbed recently, and truth be told, it drives me absolutely crazy. But lately, surviving has been the top priority around here.
My 8 (almost 9) month old daughter hates sleep. I don't know why, because it would appear that I could sleep for days without regretting it at all. I've blamed teething for the past 6 months of her life, but here we are, still toothless. I've relished every minute of her runny nosed cuddles, and closed my eyes and dreamt of sandy beaches and crystal waters while she nursed for the umpteenth time in a day. We've pushed through sleepless nights and napless days for three months now, and it would appear that I've come to the end of my rapidly fraying rope. I find myself extremely irritated by the cries in the middle of the night, and even more annoyed by the tears during the day.
But the truth of the matter is that she's only little once. These days are so long, but this year has been so short. Most days, that gives me great perspective. But today, the most wonderful thing happened. I put the baby in her crib, and she stayed asleep. I decided to put a hot oil treatment on my hair, and she slept through that too. A twenty minute nap is a miracle in this house. So I came downstairs and plotted which chore I wanted to tackle first... when my eyes landed on my bible sitting on the coffee table. And thought long and hard about the last time that I read more than a quick psalm in the mornings to "dwell" on for the day. So cliche of me. But today, I sat down and opened to Psalm 1. And I just kept reading. And reading. And then I stumbled upon Psalm 116:7.
I found myself intrigued, and to be sure that I wasn't misinterpreting, I looked up multiple versions of the same verse. All leading to the same conclusion:
"Relax. God has been good to You."
And them comes perspective. I don't want to travel down the cliche Christian ramblings of "We have a roof over our head and food in our bellies!" Because while I'm ever grateful for those things, they aren't the point. When I was in my darkest days of adolescence, and my Dad kept tucking me under his arm and saying "You've just got get through the next couple of years, and then the fun starts..." every other day. When I would cry in my room because of MEAN GIRLS and ponder how things would ever get better, I would pray that God sent me a good man. I prayed that we would have a beautiful baby together. I prayed for a life full of love and friendships and an overall sense of happy. And if he hasn't exceeded every expectation! If only I could have SEEN what kind of beautiful baby that was going to come out of me. If I had only known that the obnoxious guy that worked behind me would shape up to the greatest blessing in my life... man, I would've sprinted into his arms and drug him to the altar. But I didn't know then what I know now. I needed time, perspective, and patience. When I finally married him, I was convinced that those were the best years of our lives... and then along came those two pink lines. And pregnancy. Oh, Pregnancy. I loathe thee. I didn't know then that I would look back and miss baby hiccups and kicks, because I needed time, perspective, and patience. You cannot convince me that there is a sweeter sound in this world than hearing an infant giggle. I'm certain that it's the song of the angels. You see, I'm worn down and battered and exhausted, but all of my dreams have come true. Isn't it funny how even in the middle of the fairy tale, we still wish for the fairy Godmother to come back around? It's just further proof to me that there will never be a phase in my life that I won't fall down on my knees and beg for Jesus to give me grace. There will also never be a day that I wish I was back in high school because DRAMA.
I'm so thankful that my eyes and my heart were open to hear what the Lord was trying to tell me today. I'm going to Need him even minute, hour, and day of my life. And hopefully Ella learns to say "HELP ME JESUS" when she's stressed out, because she hears it at least 5 times a day right now.
I just wanted to blog today because I wanted to remember today. Is there still a screaming baby in her crib waiting for her mother to finish blogging? Yes. Is the house still a disaster because I blogged instead of cleaning? Yes. Am I brewing my 3rd cup of coffee today? Yes. Will I still throw my head back in angst when Ella screams at 4 o'clock this morning? Definitely. But my soul is at rest, because the Lord has been Good to me.
No comments:
Post a Comment