unwind
It's been three months since we moved, a big across the country to a place I've never lived and never thought I'd live, move. I had big plans for how well I'd adjust, how I'd take time to rest and acclimate, but then I'd jump right in, make friends, get involved in my community, open our home to our neighbors. To be clear, I'd planned on being to the end of my plan by now. I'd scheduled 2-3 weeks to get settled in, maybe 4. By then I figured I'd have everything unpacked, or at least enough, and I'd be starting to make friends. Maybe I'd invite our neighbors for dinner or ask some of the moms in my new 'hood to come over for brunch. Who doesn't love brunch?
But here I am three months out, feeling lonely, boxes still unpacked. And truly, I can see that my plans were flawed and that it's OK that I'm not where I thought I'd be. But the loneliness, the enormity of it all. Trying to get all the kids new doctors before one of their medications needs to be refilled, setting up a bank account, registering our cars (I got kicked out of the DMV), finding all the bathing suits, the responsibility of 8 emotional states, 9 counting mine, and hoping I don't drop anything too major.
After 2 months, we found a sweet babysitter, who will leave town after only a couple weeks of sitting for us. But for the days she was able to be there, I tried to take full advantage of the time I had to get out. Honestly, both times I came back, thankful, but not peaceful. My head was still spinning with all the things I still had to do and hadn't managed to accomplish while she was there.
It was with this backdrop that I met WonderHubs for lunch at Chick-Fil-A. After dealing with some tactical stuff...dinner, weekend plans, etc. he asked why I wasn't blogging. My eyes welled with tears and we moved to the car so that I could not be a crying hot mess in Chick-Fil-A. After I'd poured out my heart about how I was so overwhelmed that I wasn't even able to process a thought anymore, let alone write something, he asked me what I needed to do to unwind, replenish, refresh.
How do we unwind?
I desperately wanted a simple answer, not just for him, but for me too. I wanted to tell him that getting a pedicure or spending a day sitting in the sun and reading a book would fix it all. The worst thing is knowing nothing like that will help. I wanted a quick simple fix, something I could do, something that would take care of the problem. I wanted to tell him that if I just was on a better schedule or read my Bible more, or prayed more or sang more songs or focused on being thankful, that it would all be better. I was willing to put in some work to make it happen, but I knew that wasn't the answer. I knew that 10 days at an island resort wouldn't fix it. I knew that an amazing conference with great speakers and awesome worship wouldn't fix it.
I don't think of myself as wrapped super tight anymore. Eight kids will do that to you. But I've been wrapped up in so much that tightness doesn't even matter anymore. When you're put on every piece of clothing you own, it doesn't matter how loose it is, the weight is too much. And that's where I've been. Maybe nothing in and of itself is too tight, but the combined weight of it all only pushes me down. No pedicure, no mom's night out, no tropical vacation is able to lift all of that weight.
So what do I do with it? How do I unwind it and find air again? Moment by moment. Covering each thing in prayer. I love to spend time in prayer, pouring out my heart to my Father, worshiping Him and seeking His heart. I am renewed by spending time in His Word, breathing in His heart for His people. What I struggle with, is praying in the moment. In fact I find it hard to do almost anything in the moment right now. There is too much else swirling around. But these layers have got to be removed.
“We destroy arguments and every lofty opinion raised against the knowledge of God, and take every thought captive to obey Christ,”
Each time I'm overwhelmed, each time I bend under the weight of the "to do's' and the responsibilities, each time I am crushed by my failure, every single time, in the moment, I have to run to Jesus. When one of my little kids gets new information, they bring it to me. They want me to verify it. They check and double check.
"Mom, are there really 9 foot earthworms?"
"Mom, can kangaroos really jump 30 feet?"
"Mom, how long is 30 feet?"
"Are you sure?"
I need to do this. With each new thought, each new pressure, I need to verify it with Jesus.
Sometimes when I take on the responsibility for something, is it possible that it's because of my own lofty opinion of myself? Am I really responsible for the emotional states of 8 other people? Of course not! When this thought is taken captive, sifted through Christ, I know that I can't control anyone else's emotions, but I can love them, show them grace and be a safe place.
When I'm overwhelmed by the to do list and the decisions to be made, don't I need to take them to Jesus? When the weight of failures seems to crush me, don't I need to fact check it with Truth Himself? Am I a failure if we order dinner out? Probably not. Am I a failure because I got kicked out of the DMV? Nope, not even then.
I might still get a pedicure. I mean, pretty toe nails can't hurt a girl, but I know it won't fix anything. I don't expect it to. I know, deep down in my soul, that God is faithful, so faithful. He has begun a good work in me and He will complete it.
