It seems like the weekends go by in a blur. Between school work of my own, the kid’s school work, friends, activities with our church, and just trying to keep up with everyday life, Friday through Sunday all run together. Our lives are run by schedules, deadlines, and appointments that it feels like there is little to no time to stop and enjoy the life we have been blessed with.
I suppose being busy is better than being laden with boredom or solitude. Although, there are days when the idea of having nothing to do and nobody or obligations to attend to seems like a lofty dream, one I find myself wishing to come true. Don’t get me wrong, my life is full and good. I love my children, husband, and the family and friends that are a part of our lives. Lord knows where I’d be without any of them. However, I don’t feel it’s entirely selfish to want, and need, some personal time away from the hustle of everyday life. A day without kids complaining or fighting, a day without my phone ringing or an assignment being due, a day where my biggest concern is staying hydrated and enjoying my massage.
The blessings in my life are numerous, this I cannot deny. I’ve even learned to see blessings in things that would not be considered ‘good’ or even a blessing in disguise. It’s those moments, those encounters, and those situations that I see the opportunity for growth or to gain knowledge- both of which are blessings. Trials strengthen you. Hard times put your life into perspective. Worry, while I don’t see the feeling or manifestation of it as particularly beneficial, can bring you closer to sources of support and encouragement. I have learned to pursue God in these times of worry or uncertainty, to take difficult situations and use them as a guide for the future, and to take hard times on the chin because, if I can make it through (insert something less than enjoyable here) then I can make it through anything. It’s like strengthening an emotional and psychological muscle with God as my spotter.
But, muscles tire and hit a point of failure. You feel it a short time before it occurs but the signs are clear. Things you were doing with very little effort or thought start becoming harder to push through. There’s a little uncertainty in the choices and decisions you make, like wondering if you can really push through the next set. I get tired and weak, but at the same time I’m energized. My sleep pattern is all over the place because of this. My body and my emotions are spent but my mind doesn’t shut off.
Like regular exercise, it gets tiring after awhile; the routine, the monotony, and having to fight through everyday, sometimes by the hour, in order to provide a life to my children and to hopefully modeling to them how to live their own life. I’d be lying if I said there weren’t day where I wanted to quit; days when I would love nothing more than to not have to answer to “Mom” being called through the house, days when I didn’t end up in an argument over the words I say and how they were said, and days where I don’t have to hear the members of my family complaining or crying over the actions of another member in the family.
Peace. Calm. Just shut it all off. A long drive through the canyon. A weekend in a cabin. Focusing on refreshing my mind, body, and spirit. I could do all these things. I could find the time. It would be reasonable and justifiable. But, I don’t think I could shake the “Mom guilt” that is so often felt when I, or most mothers, do something for themselves. That’s the hard part.
So now, as the hours until dawn are getting closer, I’ll take a breath and ready myself for tomorrow. I’ll remember that this is the life I chose and I’ll remember all the good things that have from it. I take advantages of the learning opportunities as they present themselves, and I’ll flex my muscle. I talk to my spotter because without Him, nothing gets accomplished and I am at risk of hurting myself by pushing too far. I’ll finish my sets and complete the circuit. I’ll remember that the long-term rewards of my efforts far outweigh the short-term sacrifices I make. And I’ll see the blessing of it all.