So, I get into funks at times. Down Days are what I call 'em, and if you are a regular, dear reader, you know exactly what I'm talking about. I'm plagued with my crazy hormones, my husband's busy schedule, my children's sassy attitudes, and my current state of house-renovations-limbo. This all equals stress and stress equals frustration and frustration equals depression and depression equals despair.
This despair (although it waxes and wanes on an irregular basis) is often met with four things:
2.Lots of praying and "help me!" and "why me?" wailing-pity-parties (silent, of course).
3. A bazillion examples that God hears me, knows me, loves me, and forgives me every time I freak out.
4. Guilt for the first two, and gratitude for the third.
I'm gonna talk about the third thing.
So, last week, I'm going through the despair cruddiness, and Friday morning, #3 decides to open the front door 10 minutes before we were supposed to leave, thus exposing my dirty house to the masses. Okay, not true, but the front door did not need to be opened. I always get mad when they leave the front door open, or open it early, etc. because we have no screen door, and it looks out onto the very busy road in which we live. People drive on this road like it's Geneva Road or something (for those who have no idea what I'm talking about, think of a road with a 45-50 mph speed limit). Drives me insane, these fast drivers, who can't slow down because WalMart might close or something. Anyway, #3 opens the door. And we get to see this:
Wow! We do not live too far from some "wilderness" (i.e. big hill too steep to build anything on) and a duck pond (about a mile down the road a-ways), and we often have quail, ducks, birds, and all kinds of rodents in our yard. But baby ducks?? Rare! I took the pictures as fast as I could, but they had already crossed our front yard and were heading towards the street. NOT THE STREET!! Luckily, a nice man in a car saw them, stopped and let them pass all the way to the other sidewalk; I waved to him and mouthed "thank you!" To this man, you rock. Thank you for slowing down and seeing them! My children would have definitely been mortified to see such a duck tragedy, had you not...
Later that night, Brandon and #3 went to the father's/son's camp out in our ward. I was still all funk-i-fied, and so I sat at my computer, wondering what the heck to do with the girls, when suddenly, the phone rang! It was Ann. You know, my buddy, Ann?
"Hey, Cheryl, what are you doing tonight?"
"Oh, Brandon went to the father's/son's camp out, so I'm just thinking of what to make for dinner. I'm still in my pajamas."
"Well," she said, "why don't you come up here?"
"At the father's and son's camp out with your ward."
"They decided to go last minute (her hubby and her son) with my dad."
Ah, yes. Her parents are in my ward! This makes sense!
"Really? Well, then, yeah! We'd love to come up for dinner or something."
"Wanna spend the night?"
"Would I?? Would I????" (Okay, I didn't really say that, but you get the gist of the conversation.)
So, spend the night, we did! We had Chinese Food, stayed up late, and after the kiddies went to bed, Ann and I watched P.S. I Love You for the first time. We cried, we laughed, we cried some more. Great, great movie. I really liked it! And now like Mother of the Wild Boys and my sister, Michelle, I want to go to Ireland. Almost as badly as I want to go to England!
Before watching said movie, however, I had to check my email. Why? Because I always have to check my email. Like five thousand times a day. I used to check it six thousand times a day, so I'm getting better. Anyway, I'm glad I did because I had the very best advice and encouragement from Bythelbs waiting for me in my inbox. Hooray!
Saturday went well; I babysat my nephews and later we doubled with Michelle and her hubby. We went to dinner, and then to the mall, where --finally!!!!!!! --I bought some skirts that actually fit me. Imagine my surprise fitting into Larges and not XX-Larges. Okay, so I wasn't surprised, but it was still very, very nice.
Sunday was good, despite a disastrous can't-get-the-kids-ready-on-time-and-I-freaked-out-and-Brandon-had-a-meeting-and-I-was-late-and-I'm-never-late episode. The lessons were fantastic (as usual) and there was much Huzzah-ing when it was found out that Max Hall and his wife moved into our ward (oh, yes, dear reader. Many-a-young man was quite excited! Including my young man. You know, the man I married who is obsessed with BYU football? That one? Yeah.). I also looked amazing (per Brandon's words) in my new skirt (blushing!). It was a lazy Sunday, with a lot of movie watching and ice cream eating (low fat, of course!).
Today, I started my new routine, and Mondays are now Chore Days. (Michelle started her new routine today, too!) Chores were finished before lunch, without hardly any complaining. Wow! Look at me go! Then, #1's new booster seat arrived in the mail today --which reminds me, I think I forgot to tell you that #3's new car seat came in the mail last week. Now I just need to order one for #2, and we're all set! My kids will be the safest car-riding kids in the world. I hope. That's the plan, anyway...
So, what does all this mean? Well, I put all the obvious and non-obvious ways in which God is aware of me in bold. These things are small, seemingly insignificant, but to me, meant the entire world. I think most people refer to them as "tender mercies", eh? Those moments when we realize, quietly, that God knows us, loves us, and wants to help us...And they are enough, dear reader, to pull me out of my funks and pits of despair.
What has happened to you lately that shows God's aware of you? What are the small things that get you through the tough times?