Discombobulated

There are days I feel relatively well assembled:

As though the different roles of my life are jiving well with the others, that the many hats I wear are actually staying on my head, and when they do drop, I laugh. When things seem to be falling neatly into place. And when they don’t, I seem to have a resilience that allows me to take the “no problem!”/”don’t sweat the small stuff approach”. When I’m feeling encouraged {despite the circumstances not always being comfortable}, hopeful, strong and as in control of the few areas of my life I’m actually able to be in control over. When the kids are playing well together, are responding well to us/love/guidance {and being pleasant…always refreshing}. When hubby is enjoying work. When we actually get to see each other…awake. And when we’re growing individually, and together in our walk with God…and by all standard measures: life feels pretty darn good.

I sort of feel like this little guy here:

I like this state of being!

And then there are days when I feel less put together.

Not broken, just…well, disjointed.

Discombobulated.

Easily disappointed and discouraged; fighting the desire to fall apart when my boat is rocked too much. Unable to be strong for my man when he’s feeling discouraged and frustrated about stuff going on at work. Less patient with my kids {and then usually, with my mom too}. Fragile. Not hopeless, but definitely less hopeful. Unsettled. Discontent. Waiting for the axe to fall {as in: “watch we don’t get this house after all we’ve put into it!”. Unable to see God’s hand or trust God’s heart in the midst of discouraging news {today’s was: the fine print we signed on our contract with the storage unit company has freed them of any obligation to reimburse us for the thousands of dollars of damage to our stuff. Nothing}.

You know… a little more like this sorry soul:

So I’m more intentionally pressing into my source of strength and joy and comfort today, keenly aware of my complete inability to stand firm on my own, and for those who depend on me on a day-to-day basis.

I’m working on cultivating an attitude of gratitude amidst my somber ‘tude:

bummer: incredible loss of belongings….yes, but…God has met every one of our needs – we have made it without those things, and the bonus: 2 months of living in this lovely home {own space = huge blessing} without a mortgage payment has enabled us to replace some of the larger things.
bummer: hubby processing through frustrating issues at work {and fighting to leave them there}, and working a poopy shift…yes, but…he has a job…and the bonus: he is working his dream job!
bummer: I can’t seem to keep up on the never-ending loads of laundry and dishes, the constant array of clutter and toys, and cleaning and dusting and toilet scrubbing {you get the point}…yes, but…we have a home {sort of} to clean and make a home, and I have beautiful, energetic children and an amazing husband to keep clothed and fed.
bummer: my poor teething son is so clingy and whiney that I’d rather pluck my nostril hairs out with needle-nose pliers than endure his screaming for another day…yes, but…he is ALIVE and kicking.

Discombobulated, yes.

Struggling, sometimes.

Grumbling about it, no longer.

As Abe Lincoln so succinctly put it:

We can complain because rose bushes have thorns,
or rejoice because thorn bushes have roses.

Thank you for that nugget, Mr. President…I’m pulling myself up by my bootstraps and choosing to celebrate the blooms amidst the pokey things.

I’m awfully thankful I’m at the mercy of a creative genius who knows exactly how to put me back together again, and actually delights in the process.

And I’m uber grateful for His mercies being new every single day {Lamentations 3:22-23}…Lord knows I need fresh mercy…and that His joy will be up for grabs in the morning {Psalm 30:5}.

And just in case I’m able to put in my order ahead of time, I’d prefer to be more assembled tomorrow…thank you.

{this} {not that}