Today is 5 Minute Friday. It’s when women from all over, take 5 unedited minutes to write about a word provided by Lisa Jo Baker. Today’s word, very aptly, was mess! You can check out other posts or join in here.
There are piles of papers and books spread across on the kitchen table.
Dishes are stacked in the sink.
A baseball uniform is still in the washing machine (remind me to switch that to the dryer, would you?)
Shoes are piled by the doorway and coats are slung over the chair by the front door.
My school bag is lying on it’s side, the contents spilling out onto the floor and my purse is propped drunkenly against the television stand.
A wastebasket overflows with tissues and a TV tray holds a hug plastic bottle of water, a box of tissues, a thermometer and a discarded hospital band.
This has been a messy week after another chaotic week. My youngest son, Brody, spent Tuesday and part of Wednesday in the hospital because of double pneumonia. I didn’t see that one coming even though he has been home sick since last Wednesday.
Of course, I stayed with him, so the things that clamored at home had no audience in me. Deadlines got pushed back and to do lists were forgotten as I sat by a hospital bed that made my almost 13 year old son looks small and frail. Eight pounds – the size of a healthy newborn – was a lot to lose.
The only thing on my mind, in the midst of the mess, was my son getting better and stronger.
It was April. I thought the season of illness was over. I didn’t plan on life getting turned upside down and everything falling into a mess. I had things planned out and scheduled so I could handle a long term sub job, my weekly newspaper articles and almost non-stop baseball.
I planned on being so disciplined in holding to my schedule so I could get it all done. I was fearful of “something happening” and messing up my plan.
I didn’t plan for something like this. I didn’t planon extra laundry and pill schedules and keeping up fluids and no time to straighten or organize or get ahead. I had no other option but to dwell in the mess.
So, I let it go. (and no I’m not going to start singing the song from Frozen) I let the expectations of others and my own even heavier expectations all go.
And God met me in the mess. Instead of freaking out which is my normal response to any kind of crisis. I was calm, peaceful. I shrugged my shoulders when I thought maybe I wouldn’t meet deadline this week for my articles. It wasn’t the end of the world – in fact, the world would keep spinning just fine and dandy without me. My focus sharpened on y priorities rather than a list of should dos.
I discovered that joy and peace is found in surrendering to the mess rather than always trying to fix it.