Everything All At Once

I fell apart making lunches last night.

Drizzling honey over plain greek yogurt (because we all know it tastes like spoiled sour cream without it), I lost it.

The tears started to fall and the anxiety welled and the world went a little fuzzy.

My husband comforted me, as he does. He was gentle, as he is, and reassuring.

A little later, I settled down while Max finished the lunches and we went to sleep. (and honestly by this point in the school year I wouldn’t put it past myself to feign an anxiety attack to get out of making them)

But something he said to me last night stuck with me and I’ve heard it over and over again in my head.

At one point he said,

“You don’t have to think of everything all at once.”

Everything. All at once.

If there were ever a Book Title for my brain, that would be it.

It’s everything, all at once, all the time.

The lessons to plan, the rooms to clean.

The nice things I really should do for our neighbors.

The thank you notes to write and the papers to grade.

The blogs to write and birthdays to remember.

The things from the past, things in the future.

The texts to respond to, the events to attend.

The Bible to read, the groceries to buy.

The commitments, the failures.

All the time. All at once.

My husband is an engineer and sees the world so beautifully logically. He knows it is simply not possible to do all those things all the time, so he takes life day by day, task by task.

Can you imagine?

I move through life at a 100 miles per hour- a hurricane whipping through accomplishing and doing and trying and being.

And while I’m doing and trying and being I’m thinking about all of the other things I have to do and try and be.

I’m just so tired of everything all at once.

Overcommitted and under-fueled- I am not spending time in the Word or getting on my knees in front of the Lord because it doesn’t feel productive.

Writing has taken a back seat to pretty much everything else, yet I feel the words swirling and spinning around my head constantly because there  isn’t  time to give them an outlet.

It’s time to slow down.

I don’t know what it looks like yet- but I think it starts with some prayer. The cries of an exhausted heart that tries to be everything on her own, yet fails every time.

One step at a time. This is about 1/4 of everything I want to say right now, but I can’t write everything bottled up all at once.

And that’s okay.

 

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