4-28-12 Saturday…I’m having one of those days. Feeling overwhelmed going into the weekend–conference Friday night, Saturday until the afternoon. In the evening– laundry, vacuuming. Sunday, facilitate Sunday school and prep for part of dinner provision for a kids group event for Sunday evening.

My daughter wants to bake a cake. At first I’m not really paying attention and suggest cupcakes. But then I enter the kitchen. There are laundry bins, an oversized donation bin, and a couple of extra bins that came out of storage strewn across the kitchen floor. I’ve been weaving my way around the bins for two weeks. I already asked my husband Dave to take it to the donation center. I know if I want it done now I must take it myself.

My daughter has her apron tied around her waist. She has the oven pre-heating. But as I look around the kitchen–this is not the time to be baking. There is no space. No space in the kitchen and no space in my mind at this moment to take on another task.

I go to the hallway and place my head in my hands and start to cry. I look in Dave’s room. HIs half hour nap has turned into a much longer one (to his credit he did start the first load before lying down–but only after hearing my slight sigh as I was scrubbing the bathroom sink and I heard him say “I’m going to take a half hour nap.”).

I want to hide my tears from my daughter, Beth, but the tears won’t stop. I grab the laundry basket and load the laundry into the washer, breaking into sobs intermittently, probably looking a tad crazy to the neighbors.

It all feels more than I can bear.

I think to myself that the thought–“this is more than I can bear” is itself self-defeating and that I can choose to have a more hopeful statement to replay in my head. But I let it play on. The other thoughts, “He’s never going to change,” “I’m stuck,” “I’m in this alone,” also parade through my mind.

I think the conference and Sunday School were challenges because right now I am too involved in my own stuff to clearly boundary myself from other people’s stuff. I am telling people your marriages are hopeful (which I do believe) but at the same time mine right now is feeling a bit hopeless (which I know is not true necessarily).

Also facilitating both highlights Dave’s disinterest in helping me to lead.  At one point during the conference, I was feeling pretty exhausted and asked Dave if he could lead the next portion. He gave me a look that indicated he would not. So I persevered on.

I am taking a bit of a break from vacuuming to post to stop the hour long streaming of tears down my cheeks. It’s working. I feel better now. I need to talk to my daughter later. I know seeing me like this is probably a bit scary for her–as she has given me a shout out that she’s washing the dishes–probably her way to say “Don’t worry mom, I’ll lend you a hand.” It’s also impacted Dave, because he’s up now hanging the clothes, clearing the floors in preparation for my vacuuming.

I’m okay now though. It was just one of those semi-annual melt downs that’s telling me to slow down and examine my life–the actual physical obligations and my thought life. As to the obligations I need to say “no” to any extra duties. As for my thought life–what’s the themes, what do I need to have a voice around, what do I need to disconfirm.

This melt down is a wake up call that I need to lean on God more and surrender my life to him.

Hold Me Together Royal Tailor

Fall Apart by Josh Wilson


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