Obviously the silence on the blog yesterday means I get a big red FAIL for 31 Days. I am both OK and not OK with that.
It's OK, because ultimately this blog is a tool. When I decided to take on this challenge, I promised Steve and myself that if at any point it was really not serving my family well for me to put up a daily post, I would prioritize accordingly. And the fact is, it would not have served my family for me to spend an hour on my blog yesterday. I was out of town all weekend, and had pre-written and scheduled articles to publish while I was gone. But I had nothing ready for my first day back, and between a kindergarten field trip, catching up on sleep after a late-night flight, quality time with boys who missed their mama, and a soccer game, my blogging time was pretty much shot. Such is life.
On the other hand, it's not OK because of how alive I have felt the last two weeks. Writing is good for my soul. It has felt so right to be back this month, to be cranking out words. Unfortunately I have not yet figured out a balance between writing and all the other normal life stuff I'm still responsible for. Spending so much time on the computer last week meant pulling meals out of the freezer and letting Mount Laundry pile up and ignoring the state of my floors. I obviously can't do that forever, and the sad truth is that my shower, instead of cleaning itself while I was out of town, actually had the nerve to go and get even more disgusting. (WHEN are they going to invent self-cleaning showers? The shower is the bane of my existence. Give me a toilet over a tub any day of the week. Meanwhile, I would be truly mortified to have anyone use my bathroom at this point.)
Back in college, I was crazy-busy, and I accomplished a lot. I have found in the past that when my time is fuller and more limited, I manage it better--I have to. It feels like life has cranked into high gear around here, and my poor self-discipline and time-management skills are sputtering to catch up.
So I appreciate your patience as I re-learn how to juggle writing and life. And I appreciate Steve's patience as he picks up the slack. If I have to name one way I have seen Jesus the last few days, it is in the kind eyes and serving hands of my sweet husband. He consistently reflects the selfless, sacrificial love of Christ to me, and this past week has been no different.
From Steve's generosity in buying me a plane ticket to go visit a dear friend, to his solo parenting the boys for three solid days, to his tackling a pile of dishes this afternoon while his panicky, anxious wife sat down and did a brain-dump of the million tasks jamming up her mind...y'all, when I got home from my little vacation at midnight on Monday, Elijah's lunch was packed and ready for the next day. Laundry had been folded. Children had been read to and played with and well fed. This man is a keeper.
So when Steve started in with the dishes tonight, after patiently rubbing my back for a few minutes while I freaked out, I squirmed inside. A big part of me wanted to say, "Please stop being so amazing. Stop doing the things I should have gotten done today. I feel so guilty." It is hard to be served sometimes, even as it is wonderful--trust me, being married to this man, I know.
Instead I bit my tongue, and I gave thanks. The reality is, I am needy. I *am* guilty. And the ways my husband meets me in the midst of my weakness and failure and loves me enough to do what I should have done but did not do? Well, Steve provides a tiny picture of the way Jesus loves me, the way He stoops down into the messes I have made. He obeyed perfectly where I do not. He patiently, sweetly calms my anxious heart, promising that when I am weak, He is strong. When I don't have it in me, He is enough. When I make stupid and selfish choices, He will lay down His life for me. And as if all that weren't enough, in His lavish generosity, He gives me a husband who will quietly remind me of who He is without saying a word.
[This post is part of the series "31 Days of Seeing Jesus"--click here for a list of all posts.]