There have been plenty of “survival mode” moments in the last ten years of my life.
Ben studying for the bar during the first months of our marriage and watching a lot of closed caption television.
Selling our condo when we had already bought our house…never again.
Trying to get our house remodeled before we moved in and had our first baby…considering we gutted the kitchen and bathroom…kind of a big deal.
Transitioning to being a parent and figuring out what it actually meant.
Transitioning to being a parent of two…then three kids…and figuring out what that actually meant.
My last semester of teaching, right before Fiona was born. That was extreme survival mode.
Right now. Negotiating the timing of selling a house, solidifying our rental, and beginning the building process while trying to keep up with regular life has been challenging, to say the least.
I was at a pretty low point Saturday morning, waking up stiff from sleeping on the couch with Fiona all night, and feeling the full impact of being in “survival mode”. Parker had woken up at 6:15, and was bouncing up and down on the other couch, trying to wake us up. Fiona opened her eyes, coughed in my face, and started whining for milk, which (of course) we had run out of the night before. Ben had an early meeting at work, Madi’s Nook cord was broken, we had no caffeine in the house…and we had a full day of packing and organizing ahead of us. So, I rolled my grumpy and tired self off the couch, made breakfast, and launched into the day. Let me rephrase…I was very grumpy. Everything was half finished, and in my mind, completely disastrous.
I’m always telling Madi that she can “choose” to not be grumpy, and even though I believe this to be true, it’s a different thing when you have to put it into practice. But then I started thinking about Matt Redman’s song where he sings about God never letting go. I started to feel, in very visible ways, the prayers of people around us. I felt a boost of energy that was definitely not from being well-rested or from caffeine. I wasn’t perfect by any stretch of the imagination, but I was…better. I even started to see progress in our packing.
Our craft area…mid-afternoon…
And by the end of the night…progress…
It was a great reminder that even though we are in “survival mode”, and will be for the next couple of weeks, that it doesn’t mean I have to act like I’m in the middle of a war zone. I don’t need to hunker down, shut everyone out, and choose to be a “grumpy pants”.
I don’t have to be perfect…just survive better.
And hey, thanks for the prayers…
