Chick-Fil-A and Tears

I should be sleeping.  I went to bed 45 minutes ago but just tossed and turned.  You see, I may have had a 1.5 hour nap just before going to bed.  Oops. 

I hate laying in bed not sleeping.  And so here I am, in my robe, in the dark, in the quiet.  I have words.

Today was the eighth day in a row with no sunshine.  Did you notice?  I feel it in my very marrow.  My husband made the comment yesterday that he thinks I am solar powered.  He was joking but there is truth in that statement.  My motivation level plummets with the lack of sunlight.  Small grievances are amplified.   I'd like to stay on the couch, under a blanket, and see NO ONE until the sun makes an appearance again.  But that's not possible.  Or healthy.

Today I did not see the sun.  But I was refreshed in a different way.

Larry took the day off work.  

It was so nice to have someone here to help bear the brunt of Monday morning.  Sometime I should count how many times the little people of this house say "Mom" in a single day.  I'm not even sure I could count that high.  On sunless day #8 hearing all the "mom"s puts me right over the edge.  But this morning when someone would say "mom" more often than not Larry would say "what?"

Be still my heart.

My sigh of relief at 7:37 when the kids went out the door was not quite as dramatic as sometimes because this morning was not quite as stressful.  Please don't hear me wrong, I love my kids.  Deeply.  But they sometimes make me crazy.  Especially when the sun won't shine.

Then there was the beautiful moment at 8:53 when we dropped Jake off at preschool.  We now had 2.5 KIDLESS HOURS.

Sweet Jesus, you are good to us.

2.5 hours where no one interrupted our conversation.  2.5 hours where no one asked for something to eat/what's for supper?/when are you going to the grocery store? (The food questions.  There are so many of them.  They make my ears bleed.)  2.5 hours where I didn't have to do anything for anyone.

I am good at taking care of people.  You need food?  I gotcha.  You need a hug?  Consider it done.  You can't find what you're looking for?  Moms know where everything is.

But right now I'm tired.  Honestly, it's most likely the lack of sun.  Or it could also be my superwoman complex.  You know, the one where I think I can be everything to everyone.

Here's a little secret:  I can't.  I can't be everything to everyone.  I even cried on Saturday.  Here's how the scene went down:

Jessie and I were getting ready to leave for a girls only lunch date. There had been bickering and fighting and complaining going on all morning.  Mostly because Larry and I are monsters who make our kids clean on Saturday mornings.  Anyway, all the noise can be hard to handle on a regular day but Saturday was day #6 of no sun.

So, as I hugged Larry goodbye, I felt that throat tightening, eyes burning sensation.  Crap, I hate crying.

"Will you pray for me?" my voice wobbled while my eyes ran.

"Sure," he said, "What's wrong?"

"Just pray that Jessie and I have a good time and that people start being nice to each other."

"Who's not being nice to each other?"

"Everyone in this house with a penis!"  Seriously, that's exactly what I said.  And Larry laughed.  Which is what I intended.  Because even when I'm crying I want to make people laugh.

But back to today.  And the 2.5 kidless hours with my husband.  They were amazing.  We didn't do anything spectacular.  We ran some errands.  We did some Christmas shopping.  We ate lunch at Chick-fil-a.  And I almost cried again.

I looked across the table at this man I've pledged my life to and I said "This has been the best morning I've had in a long time."  And because he is full of words he said, "Uh-huh".  But I think that meant he agreed with me.

After looking at the weather I am feeling pretty certain that tomorrow we are in for day #9 of no sun.  And I don't care how corny this sounds.  My time alone with Larry was my sunshine for today and the memory of it will help carry me thru tomorrow.  

There's another man who I lean on heavily in these sunless days.  His name is Jesus.  Spending time with him can bring me to tears as well.  There is no one who loves me like he does.  Thru all my ugliness and shortcomings he calls me "beloved".  I am overwhelmed and humbled when I think about the depth of his passion for me.  And the best part is, he feels it for you too.  No matter what you've done or said or thought.  Nothing can separate us from the love of Christ.

I can't think of a better Christmas gift.