I’m pining for a break right now. And a date with my husband. Sleep. Please, sleep.
I’m in a “season.” Notice how one ever uses that word to talk about how well things are going? And right now my season is one of drought.
A few sentences in to this and I’ve gotten up just as many times to mitigate a nuclear crisis between my children, clean up after Z missed while pouring water from cup to cup to cup to cup to cup…, re-address some envelopes because the markers were put away too low, explain to a crying Johnny Appleseed why we can’t plant seeds from the apple she just ate, and talk Shaquille O’Neal down from hanging on the rim of mini-hoop. The baby is oversleeping because he’s teething…and growth spurting…and has a cold…and a fever, and I’m trading a failed attempt at a few pilfered moments of quiet for a late bedtime tonight. And someone just launched the vacuum attachment across the living room, and it landed hard on my bare toes. Be proud that I didn’t swear. Out loud.
Don’t get me wrong – I’ve definitely had a share of sweet and silly moments too. Like finding Isaiah wrist deep in peanut butter, or hearing his laugh echo off the insides of a jelly jar while it’s tipped up to the ceiling. A heart-to-heart with my curliest girl. Watching my kids snuggle on the couch and hearing Isaiah whisper and giggle to Natalie. And this feeds my soul just a little.
But it’s not enough.
It’s not enough to get me through the moments that seem to have the sole intention of reminding me of my imperfections as a mom and a wife and a friend. When in perfect succession everything fails. Or when I have to cancel plans for the umpteenth time because the needs are too great and all at once. When I relent and make a call to Dan asking him to come home early because I just can’t do it alone today.
When we planted our garden this spring I was reminded to be careful of how much I water the garden. If watered too frequently the root systems become shallow, and the plants cannot withstand more than a day or two without rain. The roots have to be taught to dig down to find their water source. So these past few weeks when rain has been hard to come by, my tomatoes and peppers are still ripening, the beans are producing a 2nd crop, and I continue to pick cucumbers. Even without rain the garden is still thriving and producing because the plants are firmly rooted.
I know I am being taught to dig deep right now in this season where I yearn for some relief from this dry weather. It would be so much easier if I could just get a break, a date, some rest, but I look out and our family is still full of life, producing, and teeming. My kids are happy, and loved, and loving. Conversations with Dan are less frequent but more intentional and meaningful. I find myself in prayer often; relying on His strength and love because I’m spent. My roots are growing deeper, finding richer soil somewhere below the surface while my vines continue to stretch toward the Son.