Third week of summer blues

Chasing Bubbles

I was standing in our bathroom when it hit me: we were out of toilet paper and Kleenex in multiple bathrooms, since yesterday, and I wasn't sure when I would get the problem remedied.

And then I cried.

Cue the world's smallest violin playing just for me and my terrible, horrible first world problems.

Did I say bathrooms ... as in I own a home with more than one? Poor me.

And how difficult a problem to fix! Simply go upstairs and get one of the many bargain club purchased six packs and restock! Such a travesty. How do I survive?

And there it is. The overwhelming urge to throw in the towel and give up. Crawl under the covers. Retreat. I simply can't do it. Rather, I don't want to.

"Mooooooommmeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeey! Where are YOU?"

Sigh.

Retreat is clearly not an option.

And the remainder of the day I spend halfheartedly prodding us all forward, but my heart simply wasn't in it.

Despite three weeks of relative summer bliss, I just didn't feel like engaging in the hard work of boundary setting and gentle leading that had produced those wonderful weeks. Just "STOP!" Please "BE QUIET!" Can't you just "WAIT PATIENTLY!"

Knowing the whole time my very lack of desire to engage, my "here but not present" was the root of the problem.

It hit it's climax when I realized Daddy had not shown up after his dentist appointment so I could go to mine.  Turns out he was called into a meeting and being away from his computer and it's calendar reminders, forgot. Led to a less-than-pleasant conversation with the dentist's office. Daddy still came home early to find kids playing, a bit wild but happy in the front yard, and his wife watching with a blank stare.

After the day he had, I'm pretty sure he wanted to curl up as much as I did. Yet, in his amazing love for our family, he wrangled the kids and dinner so I could have an hour of uninterrupted rest.

So, the toilet paper and Kleenex are replenished. Kids are fed, bathed and in bed. And I'm feeling not as bad as before.

And as I think about my day and how incapable I felt to pull myself out of this rut, I know that my heavenly Father, in his great big love, has the power to shine a light of love and hope that will pierce through the darkest of days.

 (And NO this is not a treatise on mental health, depression, etc. I, for one, know the realities of mental illness and enjoy the stability brought by medication. We're talking about the blues here.)

This is where the rubber meets the road when it comes to living in relationship with God. When I cannot force myself to be in relationship with those I love most in the world, do I have the strength to lay at the foot of the cross and accept the grace, that undeserved love, that is so freely given? The thought crossed my mind a number of times today ... I imagine the spirit begging for notice ... and I simply ignored it. Today I chose to wallow in my own fatigue and despair.

There's always tomorrow.