It’s Friday night. And if I were to really think in detail about the week I would probably just go to bed. I’ve fallen asleep on the couch at least three times this week. Not because I’m cool, staying up late reading biographies or watching documentaries. I simply can’t stay awake after a lengthy day and tucking four kids into bed. Our kids are still pretty small so we have lots of books, lots of back-rubs, lots of water sips, lots of I’m “hungries” and lots of prayers about bad dreams. Mamas with quivers fuller than mine… I salute you.
I ran into another adoptive mama friend as we picked our youngest boys up from preschool today. We exchanged a look across the parking lot and I’m certain our eyes alone had an entire conversation. Trauma and the trenches of parenthood allow you to develop deep and meaningful bonds with those in your boat. It can be lonely, and when you meet others who understand, you quickly pull your dinged up little john boat to the shore and invite them in.
And then there’s the non-trauma related ins and outs of daily life. And all of us hustling until 8pm… or midnight if you are a pinterest mama. ( I am sometimes, I’ll admit it.) And the PTA, and the school projects and the stomach virus and seasonal allergies.
Kinda leaves you gasping for air. Drowning in a thick pool of comparison, self-doubt and exhaustion.
I was in the midst of one of these difficult and busy days this week when my doorbell rang. I love essential oils and share them with friends regularly. A friend was dropping by to pick some up while I was in the throngs of bedtime chaos, an after hours pediatric doctor visit and you know… hunger. (because someone is always starving) I ran to get her oils from my van but the van was locked. I ran back to the house for keys. And, you guessed it, my family had locked me out of the house. I apologized a lot and rang the doorbell until someone came. Then we couldn’t find the keys. Then the keys were found. And all the while my friend waited patiently. I finally placed her oils in her hands, thinking she was ready to jet after the crazy display. And it was late. Everyone has better things to do when it’s late.
Instead of getting the heck out of there she reached for my hand and asked if I would like to pray. And yes, I totally did. I was frazzled and worn out with the thought of getting everyone to sleep. So we joined hands and prayed in the driveway with the yellow street lights shining down. I think I also heard an animal getting into the trash, but I tried not to be distracted. As we raised our heads I was at peace. I was joyful in my motherhood assignment and I was ready to meet the needs of the many waiting for me inside.
I posted a little blurb about my thankfulness on Facebook later that night and immediately got several texts asking if everything was okay, what happened etc. Well. Nothing really. Just life. Life happened. Beautiful, messy, crap-hit-the-fan life. It’s what happens every day because we aren’t perfect. So yes. Everything was okay. And even more than okay because someone listened when they were prompted to pray.
I’m typing all this tired, I feel crazy, prayer is awesome stuff because ultimately I want to encourage you. When your spirit is stirred, pray. When someone looks exhausted, and says they are fine, grab their hand anyway. They are fine, but they will be even better with a word from you. Ladies, lift up your fellow ladies. Bow your heads together, drop off a coffee, send a text. Tell them you see them. And they will see you back. Admit how tired, worn out and weary you are. Find rest in Him, he listens. He knows you.