When Having Too Much Swirling in Your Noggin Catches Up With You
The hubby and I just returned from a glorious nine-day vacation at a quiet, remote place in the mountain. We stayed at the family lodge all by OUROWNSELVES, which doesn’t happen that often. Usually we are tending older parents, adult children who haven’t moved out yet, or oodles of grandchildren. And the family dog who never stops moving.
We rested (as in sleeping as late as we wanted or until the bladders got hysterical), we relaxed (yes I read three entire longer-length books and we watched six extended-length-epic-type movies), and we came home totally rejuvenated.
For nine days I barely cooked, and it was heavenly. Here's one day's menu:
Breakfast: a Tasty Cake and a banana
Lunch: a slice of cheese and some pretzels
Dinner: scrambled eggs
Movie snack: ice cream, what else
So, as I mentioned, we headed home thoroughly rejuvenated.
That is, until we got home.
It didn’t take long to recall all the pieces of ongoing family and other business that needed attention.
The house needed a good airing out and seemed generally out of sorts. I noticed the rug in the laundry room was missing. Son Caleb informed me it was gone because the wash machine had flooded the room when he last used it.
A mountain of mail teetered precariously dead-center on my desk. Surely a significant amount of those envelopes were bills needing paying.
Upon taking inventory, I discovered that meal-making ingredients in the frig were, well, non-existing.
I was already feeling like I needed a vacation from my vacation, and I hadn’t even been home an hour. However, I made up my mind to be grateful for the vacation and for the rest, relaxation, and rejuvenation I had had.
Today I began to dig in, to get control of the household, to sort through the mail, to pay the bills, and to organize the laundry into tidier waiting piles until the needed washer replacement part would arrive (in 2 to 9 days according to Amazon).
However, in order to pay the bills that were due, I needed to go to the bank first and make a deposit into our bill-paying account.
Unfortunately, when I got into my car and turned the key, the gas tank indicator pointed clearly on “E.” Son Caleb sheepishly admitted he had used my car “a bit” while we were away.
So then I had to call the hubby, warn him that I would be imminently leaving the house, and I would be heading straight to the gas station, but I may need a roadside pickup, because I may run out of gas while trying to get to the gas station to be able to go to the bank to move money to be then able to pay the bills.
He simply said, “No problem. You’ll be fine.”
But I wasn’t. And I know I wasn’t fine because when I got to the gas station I tried to buy gas with my AAA travel membership card. I tried three times sliding that card into the slot and turning on the pump, but no gas would dispense.
I must’ve stood there long enough giving that stupid pump the stink eye, for eventually the manager came out of the store and asked me what was the problem.
Ahem. Of course the problem was me. I had too many things swirling through my brain – too many have to’s, need to’s - to be even able to think straight and do the simple few steps needed to pump gas into my car like I’ve done a bazillion times in the past.
Lord, I need your peace to settle down into me. Yes, I have all this stuff that needs to get done, but so what. I want you. I want you, and I yearn for your peace to blanket me – you know, that kind of calm feeling that is unexplainable. Thank you that you see all my bumbling ways and you chuckle and love me in spite of all of them. Amen.
“And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus” (Philippians 4:7).
Now, about that son of mine who used up all the gas...