God Gave Me a Snow Day

My kids are on their third snow day in a row, in a week that leads directly into a 4 day weekend. So, let’s see… since last weekend, it’s gone like this:

Saturday – off

Sunday – off

Monday – school

Tuesday – off

Wednesday – off

Thursday – off

Friday – off

Saturday – off

Sunday – off

Monday – off

Tuesday – school?

I’ve highlighted the days they’ve had (or are going to have) school. I just want to be abundantly clear that in ten days, my three kids have been in school exactly once.

Now, here’s why that’s awesome.

I’ve had a lot of things pressure cooking on my schedule that were all coming up due this week. Nothing big. Nothing extremely hard, but all of it required me to leave my house with real clothes, a little extra makeup, good ideas and lots of energy.

On any given week, that would be fine. But this week, it just felt hard. Do you ever feel that way? Like things are a bit overwhelming? Maybe it’s even your own fault. You’ve said yes to too many things, when a no would have been more appropriate?

That was me. Monday morning, when my kids were at school, I made a map of my week. I listed everything I needed to bring to each event/activity and then realized I was trying to put 10 pounds of awesome in a 5 pound bag. It wasn’t going to happen.

I trudged on and got everything organized and ready to go, all the while praying for God to PLEASE intervene and give me strength or time or renewed joy in the things I’ve agreed to do.

Tuesday morning, He gave me snow. Everything was cancelled, that day and the next and the next. Hallelujah!

I’m pretty sure by next Tuesday when I scoot my little ones out the door I will be very excited to resume my adult activities, but I will also be more mindful not to resume them all in the same week. God got me out of this mess once, but twice may be pushing it.

You Want Me to do WHAT?

The principal of the Athens Middle School has made a big, big mistake. She has asked me to speak to her 7th and 8th grade students.

Somebody’s gonna lose an eye in the process, I’m just certain of it. But then again, I’m already down one breast, so I guess I could cope with one eye, too.

I hated eighth grade. Hated. Let’s review… I had just moved to a new town with a divorced dad, refused to come out of my room for several months and had one failed suicide attempt.

Eighth grade is not for sissies.

I’ve had a long talk with God this morning. I reminded him that she picked the wrong gal. I reminded him that newborn teenagers are scary. I reminded him that I probably don’t have anything cool enough to wear.

And then He started talking. He told me that he didn’t have me walk through 8th grade hell for nothing. He told me that the newborn teens are not scary, they’re scared. And He told me that it’s okay if I go shopping for a super cool new outfit and charge it to my husband.

So I said fine. To the principal and to God. I will show up and I will talk about the power of kindness to transform a life.

I will simply be available, because honestly, that’s all God’s really asking for anyway– from any of us.

And then I will trust that God, with His ability to see what’s deep in the hearts of those sweet, scary, scared kids, will fill my mouth with words that matter.

feet-349687_960_720

***I’ll be speaking sometime in March/April. Dates still to be determined. Will you pray for me and the developing message until then? Thank you, Friend.

Allergic to Life

My body has a magnetic pull toward the bathtub everyday around 7pm. Sometimes it’s more like 5:30, but generally I can hold off until everyone’s been fed. And then it hits. My people can continue watching TV or doing homework or playing basketball in the driveway, but Mom is going to take a bath.

I’m actually an 80 year old woman living in a 40 year old’s body, so I load up the tub with Epsom salts and a little lavender essential oil. Then I soak. I think about the day. Or not. I read a book. Or not. I listen to a podcast. Or not. I basically spend 30 minutes just… alone.

One of my favorite writers, Glennon Doyle, talks about being a little allergic to life. You can find her Momestery blog here, but I also highly suggest her book, Carry On Warrior. It’s a great read, and I guarantee you’ll want to run out and buy copies for all your friends.

Anyway, back to the point. Glennon writes and speaks and totally looks like she has it all together. But she doesn’t, at least not any more than the rest of us. She takes anti-anxiety medication because, as she says, she’s a little allergic to life.

Here’s what she posted about it on Facebook:

“Mom- why do you take that medicine again?

Um. You know how you love trees more than anything in the world- but you’re also a little allergic to them? So you take your allergy medicine so you can play and have a good time and love trees without feeling bad all the time?

Yeah.

I love life more than anything but I’m also a little allergic to it. So I take this medicine so I can still play with life and have a good time with life without feeling bad all the time.

Kay. Can I play wii?” (from 2/2/16)

I read that post and thought, “YES! I get it!”

Do you know, I wake up in the morning and my first thought is, “I should stay in bed. Nothing good is gonna happen today.”

HONESTLY! It’s a ridiculous, stupid lie from the enemy, and I know it. So I talk back. In the quiet darkness of my bedroom, I whisper, “This is the day the Lord has made. I WILL rejoice and be glad in it.” And then I put my feet on the floor and move forward.

Debating with the devil is never a good idea. He will not back down. He’s tireless. So instead I call on God and then I start moving. And all of a sudden, that overwhelming day, that day that made me want to call my imaginary boss and say, “Sorry, can’t come into work as a mom today, my allergies to life are acting up” just sort of unfolds.

Before I know it, it’s 7pm and the bathtub is calling my name.

I close my eyes and breathe in the lavender scented bathroom and realize it was a good day. I gave it everything I had, which is pretty amazing considering I never wanted to get up in the first place.

I’m believe I’m a little allergic to life. I think we all are. This is not our final home, so our souls are always searching for heaven. I’m glad to know that until we get there, we have each other, we have anti-anxiety meds when we need them, and we have Epsom salts.