As much as I try and refrain from “whoa is me” syndrome, some days friends, my tank can feel a little empty.
Yesterday morning, I sat down after Stuart left for school to ‘fill my tank' with some incredible parenting sermons I recently purchased (more on them later, but they're fantastic!). Not five minutes into the sermon, I got a call from Stuart (mind you, it's 7:15 a.m.) that his truck had broken down at an intersection and wouldn't start. Yikes!
I quickly woke Georgia up and hurried into the car to come to his rescue. She was only in a diaper, but what are ya gunna do.
Meanwhile, I looked at myself in the rearview mirror and said out loud “Oh yikes, I hope I don't see anyone”. It wasn't pretty.
Two minutes down the road, I get a call from Stuart that his truck had finally started, but he thought it was low on oil. Could I bring him some later on? Sure. But first, I had to rush home, put on some makeup, get Georgia out of her wet diaper, feed her breakfast, and other important things…like put on a bra.
Some things are required for being out in public. In my humble opinion, a bra is one of those requirements.
The day proceeded on as normal (a few minor set-backs included) and all the while, my mind had just been consumed with the thoughts of leaving here. The logistics of moving across the country are daunting and overwhelming. Can this really be happening? How will we move all of our things?
Let's just say, it's been heavy on my heart.
So when the muffins I made for snack didn't rise and stuck to the pan, I'd just about had it. I threw the pan into the kitchen sink, nibbled on a smooshed piece of muffin that had stuck to my pant leg amidst the chaos, and fought back tears.
Some days, girlfriend just can't take it.
In a big way, I am very thankful for days like this. They are humbling, are they not? Days like this cause me to fall on my knees in complete and utter dependence on God for every breath – literally not feeling like I can survive another moment without His grace.
And if I keep the proper perspective here, I mean, who really cares if my muffins were a flop. Sure, it's a few wasted ingredients, but in the grand scheme of life – it is incredibly, incredible unimportant.
Days like this remind me that I am not in control, and no amount of planning, thinking, organizing, or cleaning is going to change that. I don't have it all together. I don't have all my ducks in a row. I am not perfect, nor is my child or my home. I still sin in my emotional rage over petty things. And I am completely reliant on the Lord to save me from this all.
Furthermore, what need do I have to worry? The future is not in our hands – it is in our Creator's. And for that I am very thankful. If I actually believe what I claim to believe (that is, in a perfect & sovereign God) than surely the furniture will find a way to make it from here to Alabama.
And surely I will be able to survive this overwhelming rush of saddness I get every time I think about it.
As a friend dearly reminded Stuart and I in an email:
So, all that is to say, if the Lord closes this door in Wenatchee now, know that He is doing so for your good, and you will look back in 6 months or so and be thankful for His provision.God sometimes grants us the desire of our heart, and sometimes He does not.
A few hours after my muffin collapse, I was sitting down to eat a lovely, warm piece of frittata when I got another call from Stuart. The work truck he was driving had run out of gas and he was stranded across town.
Lawd, have mercy.
A twenty minute drive and gas-station-pit-stop later, Georgia and I arrived to rescue him. And I just had to laugh.
In all things, our faithful Lord is building us, teaching us & shaping us for His purpose.
Even those “empty-tank” days.