Woman Interrupted.....

Most of my days are spent in an abundance of activities. I keep thinking things are going to slow down or that I'll find some serenity in there, but there is precious little of that. If I do find a few days strung together with no real "purpose," I am bad about frittering the time away and then suddenly am hit with another onslaught of work or must-do's that keep the tornado moving. When my children were small, I thought that surely things would get normal someday. After years of those kinds of thoughts, I now know that there is no normal, we are not normal, and normal is really a stupid amalgam of an idea that doesn't exist. 

Anyway, last week was certainly a blur. All the things that I thought I needed to do did not happen. I kept getting interrupted! Just about the time I was about to climb on my ladder or sit down and write or draw, the phone would ring or the door would knock. It was amazing how providentially hindered I was by these events. I got quite frustrated, because I had goals in mind for my days and the week. One of my children was taking up large amounts of my brain as I worried about something amiss in their life. Then another of my children settled back there in another corner of my brain, then another. Then there were friends and old friends who needed a word (but really just a shoulder). I needed to make money for Christmas and bills, but there just wasn't time to do it all. One day, when a friend called and needed me, I put her off to do something else that needed to be done. In a short time, I realized that the Lord was interfering with my plans and that He wanted me to spend time with her. I called her and said, "I surrender! Please come over!" What I was saying was that I give up, Lord, You've got something better for me to do. 

One of the afternoons, I stopped and walked out to the mailbox. Then I decided to NOT do what was next, which was get on my ladder. I hooked up the puppy and took a stroll around the neighborhood. As we walked, I prayed for my children and others, looked at the sweet houses and trees, said hello to numerous neighbors, smelled leaves and oil and something baking as we passed by a house; an old friend from high school stopped me in the street as she gushed over my puppy.... it was a precious hour spent in existing where I've been planted. When we got back home, I stood in the front yard and looked at our adorable house, fighting back tears.

God sends us so many things, often frustrating and patchwork bits that seem to have no rhyme or reason. I only see through a glass darkly. It's usually murky and tumultuous. I sometimes catch sight of the threads that He is weaving through everything and it is enough to make me understand, at least for a moment, that the maker of DNA, my eyes, nose, and the mulch under my feet loves me. I am His child, snotty-nosed and all.