As opposed to the bigger things

I was gonna wait till tomorrow to link up with Gypsy Mama's Five Minute Fridays, but it just so happens that...

• the kids are all in bed and 
• it's not yet 9pm and 
• the dishwasher has already been filled and started and 
• I'm not going to go into our bedroom yet to survey the disaster there, 

so I think I've just about got five minutes to write, prompted and unedited, and share the bits with you.

Now if you yourself don't particularly feel inclined to partake in this exercise, that's totally ok. I get it and I get you and don't feel pressured to join in on this little bandwagon... (if I were to be brutally honest, I would say that I really despise the idea of being a Mommy Blogger (gasp!shock!horror!) and for this reason waited a long time to join the conversation of other Mommies and share in their journeys, though my anti-sentimental heart really wanted to) ...But if you've got something on your heart or a weight on your shoulders and five minutes of typing it out will relieve some of that pressure, I really encourage you to do so. I know that every week I have permission to spend five minutes writing, and if that's all I get, then that's really all I need.

Ok, so that took like eight minutes right there, and now I've got to start over again. So, without further ado...

On Forgetting...

Yesterday was the field trip. I remembered the permission slip. I remembered my child. I remembered to show up as I was chaperoning. But I forgot my lunch.

Today was the field day. I remembered to sign the husband up to help. I remembered to put play clothes on the boy. But I forgot to order the special "school field day" t-shirts every other student was wearing.

The sister and I made plans weeks ago to get haircuts. I forgot to make the appointment.

The girl was invited to a birthday party. I forgot to RSVP.

The wee lad is in need of cloth diapers. I forgot to wash them last night.

I am a frazzled mother, an unorganized person. I have grand ideas and schemes I hope to achieve, but I have a hard time actually remembering to make it happen. I have emails that go unanswered, phone calls unreturned, plans that need to be made...

I am trying to figure things out, to not procrastinate, to not forget (in truth, I think it's the procrastinating that leads to the forgetting). But I do think that it is maybe better to forget these little things, instead of forgetting the bigger ones. I hope I remember the latter, even at the - somewhat frequent - expense of the former.

a moment in time I don't ever want to forget

Fill me up

After a few exhaustingly busy days, I'm feeling empty emotionally and physically. The wee kiddos are watching cartoons, we're all still in pjs, and I'm mindlessly surfing facebook and blogs while feeling completely devoid of energy, apart from the ability to click a mousepad with my index finger.

I'm amazed at how quickly this happens; mothering and planning and field-tripping, these seemingly natural and mostly normal activities that zap the body and mind.

I'm mildly amused by my ability to press the gas pedal without checking the gas gauge.

I'm frustrated at how quickly I empty myself without noticing the need to fill myself back up again.

I'm realizing that I've got to fill up first, or there will be nothing to give. Only an empty vessel, and empty vessels don't do much good of anything. Until they're filled again and again...

So come on, God. Let's fill 'er up. I want to overflow.

Weary in not-well doing

A few weeks back, a wonderful gentleman who has known me for the better part of my life prayed over our family in church. As he prayed for us (a not unfamiliar task, as it was his prayers - together with God's call - that propelled us to overseas work), he asked the Lord that we would "be weary in not-well doing." I'm quite sure he meant "not be weary in well-doing," but, well, you know...

I couldn't help but laugh, as there are more than a few times I have felt weary in not-well doing. Dishes are piling up and it is way past bedtime. Sunday morning finds angry children and exhausted coffee-tumbler-toting parents hunkered down in a minivan. Prayers seemingly go unanswered after late nights of whispers and tears. Coming in third, or thirtieth, or threethousandth in a marathon, or worse yet, collapsing before the finish line.

You get the picture. Who hasn't felt weary in not-well doing?

Reflecting on that dyslexic prayer left me feeling all tied up in knots. I think I secretly wonder if this accidental prayer put a little hoax on me. We know - or really, we'd like to think we know - that God knows the thoughts and the needs behind prayers. Behind the mixed-up names and unspoken requests, He truly knows the soul and longings. (I actually referred to a not-so-new friend by an entirely different name during a lovely and inspired 3-minute verbal dialogue between me and God and in her forgiving presence. You know who you are!) But I think deep down inside my doubting heart, I ponder the ridiculous notion that in hearing those jumbled words, He did indeed grant the prayer: may she be weary in not-well doing.

But what do I really know? I know that He says:

"Do not let your hearts be troubled. Trust in God; trust also in Me." John 14v1

"Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives..." John 14v27

"Remain in me, and I will remain in you." John 15v4

"Apart from me you can do nothing." John 15v5

"You did not choose me, but I chose you and appointed you to go and bear fruit - fruit that will last." John 15v16

"Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up." Galations 6v9

I think we're lying to ourselves if we don't own that sometimes we do grow weary in not-well doing. But what do we know? That even up to His death, Jesus - who may have grown very weary - did not grow weary in well-doing. Up to the end, He was inspiring us to pursue Him, to rest in Him, to find peace in Him, and to abide with Him. He was comforting us in our very time of need.

I woke up weary in not-well doing this morning. I mean really, super-duper, tears on the pillow weary. And then I spent the morning with Him. He chose me - me! - to go and bear fruit; fruit that will last, well past the expiration date.

So I rested in Him for a good long while, and then got back to work.

Cheater

Lately I've been feeling like a cheater. I know this thought in itself is ridiculous, but still... it swims in the back of my mind on the hard days, when the support is down, the morale is down, when it feels like we came here a lot sooner - with a lot less - than we should have.

After four years of trying, we were given the chance to come here with a slashed budget for a shorter amount of time. Obviously, we jumped at the chance. It was not of our own doing, but was presented to us by the Higher Ups. By people who wanted to see us here as much as we wanted to be here. So we came, still coming up slightly short in the financial department. And I felt like a cheater.

The upside: it was the perfect timing, really. We knew it would be tough, would be a struggle, would be tight on all sides. But it was time. God had presented us with this moment in time, with a promise, or rather, the hope of a promise: it'll all work out.

And really, work-wise, it is working out. We are doing what we love, working with people we are growing to love, and getting to see something big and wonderful happen from way up close. And still, I feel like a cheater. Because between the cracks of those big and wonderful moments... still the idea of us not having measured up in that one area, still not measuring up. Never being 100%. Never being perfect.

The question of if we made this all happen, if we skipped a beat, if we didn't pay our proper dues... leaves me feeling like a cheater. Like we really don't deserve to be here. Like at any moment we'll receive a phone call, "The jig is up. The money's gone. Go home. Better luck next time."

And still, there are 176 people who at one point or another, believed in this with us, so much so as to give a part of themselves. It fills up my whole heart with hope and gratitude when I think of it.

God did that, not us. Surely, He has something in mind.