Monday, January 6, 2014

Over overtired


My daughter hasn’t been sleeping well lately.  Lately meaning the past 9-10 months, and I am tired.... so very tired.  When I am tired I have a habit of being a smidge overdramatic. Such as the following exchange with my husband, “I need to do something I’m excited about to get rid of these winter blues."
His response: “Good idea, What are you excited about?”  
My response “Well...umm...nothing...” and I burst into tears.

In those moments it’s very hard for me to delineate between what is true and what feels true.  When attempting to shift through this truth conundrum I often remember the words of a friend I highly respect, “Where is the evidence?”  

This is tricky because I often bring false evidence into play. For example, it feels true to say that I my life is totally devoid of excitement.  I can’t seem to stop fixating on the prospect of another day snowed in, or my dearth of creative crafts and games for my kids.  I point to my TV show obsessions and my internet addiction. 

 But somewhere deep down, below all of that, I know that life is a gift.  And not just “life” as a whole or as an existential concept but every single moment throughout the day.   
As for the evidence.  Well, it was an adventure to change my kids’ diapers today...I learned that if you are quick you can catch falling #2 before it splatters all over the rug.  It was a joy to go grocery shopping...my son’s enthusiasm over mac n’ cheese is truly incredible.  

Before I know it I’m laughing and I don’t feel the hopeless gloom that surrounded me before.   

It wasn’t a waste to brush my teeth or take a nap because...and this is the great BECAUSE...because “God works all things for the good of those who love him and are called according to his purpose.”  ALL THINGS, the mundane and the mistakes.  All of it.  He takes it and somehow uses it for good.  He makes beauty out of burned things (ashes). The truth is that God is good, even when it doesn’t feel like it.  He is.  Believe it or not.  God. Is. Good.    

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