Perfectly Planned?

I'm finally participating in my church's corporate fast.

It's three weeks long.

No beef, pork, sweets, chips, and soda.

Week one?

Smooth sailing.

I was prepared.

The groceries were shopped.

The menu on the fridge. 

I sailed into week two.

More groceries.

More planning.

Strictly following the plan.

And then?

 The devil got busy.

Thursday at 9 am of week two?

A water main breaks.

It's currently day SEVEN without water.

The plans are no longer relevant. 

We have to figure out how to bathe, use the toilet, EAT!

There's less than minimal communication from the leasing office.

Me and mine are shuffling from family, to friends, back to family.

Laundry is delayed and growing.

Raw sewage fumes choke those who dare to stay put.

Neighbors' surprise becomes irritation becomes anger.

My friends are supportive and give aid.

My birth family provide tangible help.

My church family?

Prays. 

Even Jesus met physical needs.

I felt alone.

And embarrassed.

And convicted.

"Lord, don't let me get so holy that I'm no earthly good."

May I never be the reason someone feels the way I did...do.

People need people.

Before and after crisis. 

Just for survival.

We need to connect and stay connected.

And when crisis arises?

Our need becomes amplified.

I felt displaced and overwhelmed.

I felt rushed and unprepared. 

I felt like nothing I did mattered.

I needed to feel a sense of normalcy.

I needed to feel like I could fix or help some of this.

I wanted to quit the fast.

I'm an emotional eater.

But I didn't.

I stayed focused and calm.

Even though I didn't feel calm or focused.

I realized...

I've grown.

A few years ago,

I would have been distraught.

I would have been mean.

I would have been wild.

But I controlled what I could...

My thoughts, my actions, and my feelings. 

I kept myself busy with

Laundry, meals, lessons, books, cleaning, and being a polite house guest. 

Until finally, the water returned. 

We arrived at night.

Greeted by the acrid odor of urine.

It burned the nostrils, eyes, and throat. 

I addressed the smell and our hunger.

Before finally,

Walking through the feelings I had to suppress.

So that we could survive.

I crashed. Hard. 

Cleaning my home could wait.

Along with anything else that felt so much more significant a short while before. 

I won't quickly forget this experience.

God wants me to grow in how I trust Him.

My plans only matter if they align with His.

I'll be sure to remember this. 

Walking Away...

 Ain't no quit in me!

I will hold on even when my shoulders burn and my fingers bleed.

I will revisit a situation from every angle. TWICE.

I will stick it out with nothing but grit and lint rollers to my name.

I will fight and pray until I get on God's nerves.

But I won't quit.

And that's why I struggle to walk away.

Walking away is when you realize you are part of a fight that wasn't yours to begin with.

Walking away happens when the outcome is beyond you.

Walking away is needed when you've exhausted all of your resources, and nothing's changed.

And Sunday, I walked away.

I'm not going to fight older generations refusing to embrace their golden years by not stepping down.

I'm not going to quarrel with old saints.

I'm going to let them be their version of "great."

And that means, walking away.

I'll carry my sadness with me.

And work through it.

And I'll wait patiently until it's my time.

Because apparently, it's now time for me to walk away. 

And Another One...

 I thank God for letting me see another year.

My health ain't health-ing

And my wealth ain't wealth-ing.

But I'm here and in my right mind.

I was obedient in my charge last year.

I was immediately met with resistance. 

I was courageous in my charge.

And I taught, spread, and proclaimed the Gospel that is Jesus Christ.

I was studious in my charge.

And I put in the work and showed up ready to work.

And all of this left me feeling drained. 

Because at the end of the day, 

My earthly responsibilities don't stop because I answer God's calling on my life.

And I take my responsibilities seriously. 

And I got my sister to the alter.

And I made birthday cakes.

And I coordinated vacations.

And I got through another semester of homeschooling.

And I did an infinite amount of chores, particularly laundry.

And I cooked 90% of our meals.

And I magicked the holidays.

And through it all, God kept me.

He kept me cool when it was hot and warm during the cold.

God kept me alert and wise.

God kept me clothed, sheltered, and fed.

During a recession. 

God kept me strong enough to put in the work whenever I could,

and wise enough to lean on Him when I couldn't.

2023 was a year of learning and of being kept.

And as grateful as I am for what I've learned and grown to understand,

I promise I'll be just as grateful if 2024 was easier.

I am so tired and could use a break.

For an entire year. 

Give me a break from medical issues.

I'll gladly take a break from being broke. 

Break me away from recession and inflation.

Matter fact, let's call it what it is, PRICE GAUGING! 

But the reality is, 2024 is an election year.

So here comes the shenanigans.

Lord, we need you now more than ever before. 

We need you in our coming and going.

We need your guidance, protection, and love.

I need your favor.

So that I can sit here a year from now proclaiming your dopeness.