By a thread

There is a frayed and frazzled thread in my life, it's the only connection left to my sanity. Turns out there are some seasons in life that require more of us than we anticipate. For example, bringing your first baby home. If this has never been a part of your life experience, trust me, it will require more of you than you anticipate! Or bringing your second child home. Truly, for six months I thought I might not make it out in one piece. Or choosing to be an active parent at your childrens' school. It's not bad, it just can eat up your time and energy and require more of you than you anticipate.

You know you are in one of those seasons when you find yourself close to tears over the silliest things, or at the craziest times. I remember crying over the mashed potatoes at Thanksgiving when I was pregnant with one of the boys. I have cried over my kitchen sink more times than I wish to imagine, and in my bathroom a handful of times. This week alone I have been close to tears in my kitchen, living room, car, front porch, harvest festival, in parking lots and on the football field. It's not that I could have told you what the problem was, just that I had no more margins in life to deal with the issues in my head and heart. And besides all that, I'm tired.

Tiredness does more to us than we realize, and often the seasons that push me over the edge are a mix of circumstances that are out of my control, with a large dose of my own poor choices with how to use the time I do have. (There's a theme that runs through my life more often than I like.)

In so many ways and on so many levels this Fall has required more of me than I anticipated. From superficial things like giving hair cuts and doing dishes, to the scheduled events like work and school and football. From physical demands like driving a lot and being up late, to emotional drains like analyzing my personal relationships and having little to no time with My Farmer. From morning to evening. From today to tomorrow. I find myself in a season that requires more of me than I anticipated.

And I'm coming up short. I'm in meltdown mode and it's only October 22nd. I need to make it through October 30th. Do you ever feel like - or is this a shocking personal confession - your brain is shutting down and taking your heart with it? The process of shutting down and turning off starts slowly, almost imperceptibly, until I'm in the middle of it and I look around and say to myself, "I'm not o.k." I don't know about the signs for you, but here are some of the signs for me that all is not well:

I'm content to let the house go to seed, piles growing in every corner and on every surface

I let myself go, not being diligent about eating well, exercise and good amounts of sleep

I prefer a book to the company of my children

I prefer a movie to the company of my husband

I prefer to ask my friends how they are, and brush off the question when it's asked of me

I find myself distant from God and afraid to hear what He might say if I tried to listen

However, I trust that a new day is coming. No matter how excruciating the days are until then, October 30th WILL come, and my schedule will change, our routines will be restored, and by faith I believe that my heart will thaw. I will have opportunity for healing conversations with My Farmer. I will have times to play, light-heartedly and with laughter, with my miracles. I will turn to the light of God's love and realize that He is truly good and desires the best for me.

In the meantime, I'm hanging on by a thread.