Wednesday, August 8, 2012

The Great Desire 2

I meant to have this out yesterday, and have actually kinda silently fussed at myself for not getting it out yesterday.  A tummy bug settled on me in addition to Eric having two-a-day summer band camp, and life in the Senzig house got a bit "Lord of the Flies" while mommy laid around.  Then something happened this morning that made me thankful that I had to wait.

The kids have wanted pancakes since last week.  Eric got the buttermilk for this little project the other day, and I meant to do it Tuesday morning.  Usually, I make a double batch of pancakes or waffles once a week and stick the leftovers in the fridge.  That way they have at least two more mornings of yummy homemade breakfast without my having to make it.

Well, this morning Ryan was so excited to see, smell, and otherwise sense mama making pancakes that he hopped into the kitchen and exclaimed, "Fizzling fireboxes!  We have pancakes!"

In other words, "Holy cow, ma! Where ya been?"

Finally, we all sit at the table and start eating.  Two minutes into breakfast, Ryan yells, "Waffles!"

Not content.

You saw how excited he was to have what he wanted.  I saw it!  I heard it with my own eyes!  But once he'd had a bite or two, the other option... the one that was not available... all of a sudden sounded better.

Of course Ryan had to either eat his pancakes or go without.  He'd already eaten a few, and we weren't concerned about how much he ate at that point.  But he literally yelled "waffles" enough that it startled us.  He was excited to have what he wanted, but then about halfway through, what he wanted wasn't what he thought it'd be.

Or maybe he was bored with it.

Anyone who has known me for very long knows that I wanted a family like crazy.  I wanted to be the mommy, the wife, and have the whole Cleaveresque existence, minus vacuuming in pearls.  And guess what?  I have it.

So why does it get hard?  Why do I get frustrated with the very thing I wanted for so long?

Maybe it's because we hear of others getting to do things and it begins to look as if they live a certain way.  Maybe we don't even realize we're beginning to compare.  If you're anything like me, you don't even see it coming.  All of a sudden, you're this annoyed, frustrated, sad, pouty-lipped lump who you don't recognize.

But at some point, like the kids use the brakes on the slide, we have to sprawl out and stop.

It's not fun.  The whining, complaining, and general misery-spewing is so blasted easy at this point.  It's second nature.  No, it's really first nature.

Then open the bible to Ecclesiastes.

All streams run to the sea,
    but the sea is not full;
to the place where the streams flow,
    there they flow again.
All things are full of weariness;
    a man cannot utter it;
the eye is not satisfied with seeing,
    nor the ear filled with hearing.

See?  We're not alone.  It's almost like they can see in my house.  And that's just chapter one, verses seven and eight.  

Everyone feels the treadmill that is life.  I have my issues, you have yours.  I have my treadmill, my hamster wheel, my own drudgery... and you have yours.  No matter how great someone's life looks on Facebook, there is still some kind of work and some kind of repetitiveness somewhere. 

The only true way I have found to help when it's time to stop on the spiral slide is to first, thank God for helping me see the need to stop.  But where do you go from there?  

I have to let go of my idea of perfection.  It is only in letting go of this desperate grapple with God's will versus mine that I see the beauty of the unfolding of His will in every day.  

If I'm preoccupied with the fact that I didn't get to sleep late, I miss the curly-haired angel who bopped up to my bedside.  

If I'm busy with the fact that we get to go out on a date once every six months, I miss the every day, every minute joy of watching my husband with our kids.  

If I'm so bummed about still looking like I just had one of the kids, I might forget the fact that my husband thinks I'm gorgeous, no matter what size I wear.

There are so many ways that, if I'm busy making too much of every little thing, I forget to enjoy.  

Behold, what I have seen to be good and fitting is to eat and drink and find enjoyment in all the toil with which one toils under the sun the few days of his life that God has given him, for this is his lot. ~Ecclesiastes 5:18

It's hard to remember.  It's even harder to practice.  But clearly, missing the joy in life is not part of the plan.  It is definitely worth the setting of our minds.  If you've found a way to completely prevent this from ever happening in your life, I want to know.  

So this whole going to the band hall, going to football games, finding something fun to do with the kids while daddy's out again, half wishing I could work again stuff?  It's all part of letting go of the fact that it isn't going to be perfect.  It's not going to be the way I wanted, and it's remembering that even if I had what I thought I wanted, I'd still find myself living in discontent at some point.  

The idea is to do the best you can with what you have, and work toward a heart of thanksgiving and gratitude.  


Because just a little over nine years ago I married my prince.  Seven short years ago I became a mother.  The days can drag by, my friends... but the years fly.  

And I truly believe that God means for me to enjoy them.  To spend my life wishing... wanting... waiting... and refusing to enjoy what I have would be a true tragedy. 

Thanks be to God for it all!

No comments:

Post a Comment

Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...