It’s been way too long since I have posted and shared my thoughts and words with you all!
Many blogs have been started, and none finished.
Life has been… just a little hectic.
We’ve been exposed to COVID in January (or February, I don’t even remember… it’s all running together now).
Sinus infections, allergies, the bathroom remodel, leaky water heater, car decides not to start, fevers, sleepless nights… I’m sure I’m leaving something out!
One thing got me this weekend though, and I didn’t even think of the impact until I told a friend about it this morning.
Sunday, I didn’t make it to church. The second week in a row.
Babies with fevers, and older kids trying to decide if their symptoms were of a contagious sort, or allergies… I was ragged.
I took a moment, after being smothered by one of the twins for constant cuddles and attention, to just step out my back door and breathe. I was standing in my back porch when my tiny grandmother walked in with her broom and dustpan. She saw me out there tossing boxes and whatnot in all my frustration (I was honestly throwing things to vent, not clean) and she figured I might need a little help cleaning out there. I had just laid the babies down for their nap and just wanted a moment of peace.
I was overwhelmed. Drained. Exhausted. Lonely…
In she walks with her broom taller than she, and says, “Well, where should I start?”
At first, I was frustrated. I won’t lie. I just wanted to sit down and mope about my circumstances. I just watched a live video of a church service I wanted to be present for in person. I had one child begging me not to make him go to school the next day and it wasn’t even 1pm Sunday afternoon. I was struggling. Deeply.
But I got up and showed her this TINY area that was “priority” to get cleaned and said we should start there.
“This is really where I wanted to clean up, and then I think I’ll go take a break while the babies sleep…”
Well… anyone who knows my grandma KNOWS she’s not going to settle for some little space.
Two hours later, ¾ of the back porch was cleaned, swept, and wiped down. I could feel the Fibro flare up wanting to start up almost immediately. I was completely drained. But… I felt good.
I didn’t feel great. But I felt GOOD… this was something I hadn’t felt in weeks! I looked around us, little Grandma with dustpan in hand and her other hand on her hip, observing a job mostly done.
A cleaned floor, washer and dryer both running with things that were being cleaned, and no more smell of clutter, trash, and yuck all around.
I didn’t take any pictures of this grand event, before or after, so there isn’t much to aid the visual for you wonderful readers today.
However!
Picture in your mind’s eye a mother drained. Torn. Sad. Angry. Isolated. Frustrated. Confused. Stressed, and just… done.
And then this tiny woman, 4 ft 9, marching in with purpose and with a single phrase inspiring motivation I didn’t even want in the moment… bringing just enough spunk with her into my house, she lifted me more than she will ever know. Regardless of how I express it to her.
It’s the little things that bring the biggest rewards.
I know this isn’t one of my longer posts, and it really doesn’t need to be tonight.
It’s a post of appreciation for an amazing woman in my life.
It’s a post to remind myself that I truly am most assuredly blessed beyond measure.
It’s a reminder that I can get through these long days, and longer nights. Through all the stress, exhaustion, frustration, and everything that weighs me down, I can get up. I can find my motivation again.
I see you, tired mama. Sad mama. Weary, worn, and burnt-out mama.
I see you… and I am praying for you!
We will rise. We will come from the tunnel that today has brought and bask in the light!
“Weeping may endure for the night… but joy comes in the morning!”
