Fight It

Eww. Today is the lamest of lame. Not because anything is severely terribly awfully wrong. Nope, it's even worse then that. It's the plain old awful sort of day where nothing is happening- nothing good, nothing bad, just loads and loads of nothingness.

I could blame the weather for my foul state of mind (because really it's been gloomy and nasty and sunless for the last week and a half!), but really it's just that funky funk of this-is-the-same-as-yesterday sort of day that I'm stuck in.

I loathe days like today.

It may have taken almost exactly 7 months, but here it is: this is the first day I can remember since the Tiny One made her debut that I've been completely and totally out of my mind with boredom. She's totally feeling the same way- hence the whining and moaning nonsense that's been happening up in here all morning- in one of those weird "is she bored because I'm bored, or are we both just bored together" ways. This blog post is boring too isn't it? OH DEAR LORD, THE BOREDOM IS STIFLING.

I'm really struggling to find someway around it, out of it, through it? and all I can come up with, the only thought that's been able to penetrate the thick black of this painful normalcy, the only real life-giving thought I've had in hours is just two words: fight it.

At the risk of sounding super intense and overly spiritual I'm going to take the time to parse this out. Because something as seemingly non-threatening as the soul-dulling normalcy of this day is just sneaky enough to do serious damage to my spirit. I know, I know. That sounds ridiculous. But I can't shake the feeling that this grey cloud of unexciting nothingness is trying to suffocate the joy right out of my home. And that is seriously uncool.

So here's my thought: (since you asked, and I know you're dying to hear where I'm headed with this after that riveting introduction). What is it about this day, this moment that the ancient stealer/murderer of my joy (and yes I mean the heckin' Day-vil!) would be after? I mean, what's in this moment that he doesn't want me to have?

And why should I fight for it? What is in it?

So I turn off the television. Tune into my daughter. Take a breath. Listen.
What is happening right HERE?

And right there- in the silence. There's the lie. Standing stark naked bold-faced, nowhere to hide.The cruel whisper: It's all nothing.

This is nothing. You're working for nothing. You're doing nothing.

Know thine enemy, right? It's ugly. This feeling, this belief I've stumbled into, that the Little Person I'm spending my life on is a waste of time. What is that?! There must be something SERIOUSLY threatening about today, this moment, this Teeny Tiny Girl that's being built/loved/grown right here and right now.

Fight for what? Truth...

Carrying this Precious Baby all over the house getting "nothing" accomplished is everything.
Taking the time to tickle her toes and make her laugh during lunchtime is everything.
Just being with her, near her (mess that I am today) is everything.

There is nothing more precious, more vital, more threatening to the Enemy, or crucial to the Kingdom then this Tiny Beautiful Life the Lord has entrusted to me just for this moment.

The truth? Today does feel sucky, and we're both in a rotten mood. But being in it together, her and I, miserable though we be, is the very opposite of nothing.

This bond we're building, the joy that I'm fighting for in this moment as her Mama, the peace that reigns in my home when Truth is allowed to come up for air- is all pretty powerful stuff, the kind of stuff I'll fight to keep.

Good Morning Inadequacy

I should DEFINITELY not be sitting down right now and writing this. My house is a flippin swampy nasty heck hole of a mess, the child is finally resting after a hellacious morning of nonsensical grumpiness (sometimes try as I might I just don't understand her), and pretty much all I have to show for the last 3 hours of my life is that I'm wearing real people clothes now, my teeth are clean, and the hair is up.

I'm totally uncomfortable with everything about this morning. The mess. The baby's unexplained howling. Her continued pulling on my shirt to get to my chest as if I'm a 24 hr. all-you-can-eat-buffet. The sticky blotches of unknown nastiness on the kitchen floor that have been haunting me for weeks...

Oh how I could fill this page with complaint upon complaint.

I'm uncomfortable with the MESS. I want to embrace it, I really do. To make friends with the grubby handprints, and needy little baby arms that now take up my world, gobbling up my freedom to do whatever I want whenever I want to do it.

I want to be free ANYWAY. I'm called to be free anyway.

I hear His sweet knowing Voice deep beneath my whiny grumblings...
"It's for freedom's sake I have set you free! Stand therefore my girl, and do not submit again to a yoke of slavery." (Gal 5:1 - my version)

And so I'm sitting, and I'm writing. This gift that I never seem to find the time to use. I'm doing it because as a mom I do this weird thing in my head now where I'm like What would I want Babygirl to do? Would I want her to spend all her moments busy with the things she has to do? Or would I want her to take a breath and MAKE time to do the things that she loves to do, only because she loves to do them? Because I'm her Mama and she's my Girl, my greatest hope for her is that she'd live the fullest life she can- days topped off with joy and rest and hope.

So yes, I still haven't the faintest idea when the floor will be clean, how long this unpredictable baby will sleep or what mood she'll be in when she wakes. I am totally and completely inadequate today (technically speaking) because I just cannot physically accomplish all of these "have to's" nagging at my heart, hacking away at my peace of mind.

But my inadequacy to complete this insane to-do list I've concocted for myself does not and it will not own me.

Because I am His girl now. And My Abba has set me free for freedom's sake. He delights in my joy. Labored here on Earth so that I could enter His rest any moment I choose, and He eggs me on to plant my hope not in the checking off of a list, but in the LIVING of my life.