So, it appears from my last post that I'm not the only one who feels at times that the coo-coo-loo-loo bin is holding my reservation.
It's good to be in good company with others (who appear to have it all together)(How on earth do you ladies do it with such style and grace?).
A friend made an observation that perhaps I really wouldn't want someone else to take care of my life for me--that I'm not the kind of person that can truly "check out" and live on autopilot. And, she's right. I want to raise my babies, I find joy in homemaking, I like the routines that come with school, and I really enjoy the job of folding laundry (the putting away is another story all together).
I firmly believe that my life is overabundant with blessings these days. I see it in my lerve merfin husband and girls' faces. I know it in my soul when I look out at the water each afternoon. I know it when my students and I are getting down to business in my classroom and fun-damental music makin' is happenin'. I hear it when I'm laughing so hard with friends that I can't breathe. I feel it in my heart when we're singing at church and I'm crying (again) because it's so, so good deep down in my bones.
I know all of those things, but sometimes it feels like it's all too much.
It's almost like the old saying about having too much of a good thing. It can overload you when your schedule is packed full of good things. It can be a long night when you've had too many delicious cups of coffee during the day. It can be miserable trying to juggle all of the things that bring you joy.
And it's usually because our joy is often misplaced in multiple good things.
When it should be placed in the Good Lord instead.
Those wonderful (and not so wonderful) things that I pour into my cup and my calendar are nothing compared to those moments when I hear Him pouring life-giving words into my soul. And when I remember that Truth and turn my frazzled thoughts back towards Him, I find that I have the strength to swallow down the crazies once again.
And when my flesh is too weak, and my soul is too weary, and my mad mama face rears its ugly head?
There's Grace big enough for that, too.