There is a major construction project going on. Houses of various sizes and shapes are going up all around me. There is a fantastic log cabin with a lovely picture window, a high rise off to the left, and even a marvelous Victorian with stately columns. The roads are being built and being used all at the same time and cheerful working noises are sounding from all corners of the project.
Then disaster looms in the form of “The Baby”. He attacks with his own purposes and intents. The cries of despair and anguish sound from all sides and all seems lost. But rising from the rubble is one who can save the world.
It’s SUPER MOM!!!! (crowd cheering)
She swoops in to the rescue and “The Baby” is taken by surprise. They go rolling to the side narrowly avoiding some more devastating destruction. But what is this? Baby seems to be winning! He’s on top! He’s got her pinned! Ouch, that one must have hurt. Super Mom takes a breath and Baby goes flying! But he’s back. Minus some hair for Super Mom. But she’s up again! Now Baby is on the bottom! Now Mom!
Ahhhh!! here come reinforcements but we aren’t really sure whose side they are on. =)
Sounds like great fun, huh? It was in some ways, but my heart just wasn’t in it. You see, I’m struggling with the flesh again. Mountain top experiences are great, but it usually just means you have farther to fall. I had two thoughts about mountain top experiences.
- Mountain top experiences are there to help you with what is on the other side (or maybe that’s the way we should view them)
- And as long as it’s a “two steps forward one step back” type of thing at least a mountain top experience puts you further ahead than you were. And once you’ve had a taste of what is ahead of you there can be a bit more of a desire to get back there again.
Sounds positive, but it took me all day to think of those. I’m feeling rather . . . I can’t find the right word . . bland, empty, selfish . . . there’s an edge of despair . . maybe an overall hopelessness . . .
At one point today I pushed away a feeling of resentment as I considered the fact that I’ve been taking care of the kids all week and there hasn’t been anyone here to take care of me. Usually by now Dan and I would have found a way to celebrate our anniversary despite all the sick kids and I would have been reminded that he loved me and I would have found a renewed purpose in my job as a mother.
I found a bottle of stuff that has some “Danny Smell” in it and it seemed to sneak it’s way into my heart and remind me of that hole that is still there. I looked at my yard and tried to think about ways to landscape it and what I wanted for the future and it all just seemed so pointless. I’m living my life to the best of my ability, but the enthusiasm is still lacking. The spark is gone. It’s been more than a year and a half and I am still at loose ends.
Why can’t I come up with any dreams and goals of my own? This was the time of year when I would be outside with a shovel trying to landscape our yard because I was too impatient to wait till we could rent a tractor. Now I have vague ideas that there ought to be a flower bed there, need to do some weeding there, put up a fence here . . . but none of it inspires excitement or effort. Can I blame it on being tired again? That excuse ought to wear out eventually.
- I want to take the kids to the Creation Museum
- I want to write a book someday
- I want to finish reading all the books on my bookshelf and fill another wall in my library with shelves full of books
- I want to make a sundress for me (which might include sewing lessons of some sort)
- I want to make school enjoyable for my kids (I’m getting antsy and summer school has entered my mind–my poor children)
Ah ha! School is out and with that I have lost a sense of purpose. (I think as I write. Have you noticed that?) The endless, aimless days of summer are not as appealing to me as they might be to a teenager. Come to think of it, I don’t think I’ve ever enjoyed being “aimless”. Even as a teenager I can remember thinking, “Choose a college, choose a career, choose a mate, this is fun and challenging but . . then what? What will be my purpose in living after that?”
I want a goal. I want a vision. I want something to work towards. Ah, my visionary, you are sorely missed. How is it you filled my life with such purpose? And then you left and took it all with you. You gave me more goals and visions than I could ever hope to pursue, but you didn’t leave any of them behind.
That looks like a pitifully small list, but I suppose one must start somewhere. Now, I must make a serious effort to get some sleep and then some breakfast as I’m guessing some of my dole drums stem from their lack .
My goals, my hope, my children, my future . . . it’s all yours, Lord. I sure would love to be able to get excited about that again. Do you think you could give me that spark back? Passion is inspiring and tiring. Maybe I’ll add an iron pill to my list of things to eat tomorrow.