It's a Saturday morning at our house and we have had a full week of school and work. I have played the role of accountant, CFO, marketing director, personal branding expert, sales manager, motivational speaker, and sales agent CEO and janitor.
During the week we focus our efforts on homework, school and getting to work. By the end of the week we have packed, plated, served, or thrown together 106 meals and people still have to eat on the weekends?!
My kids and I have been adjusting to a full schedule, separation anxiety and mother's guilt.
Lydia, my toddler, slept through the night last night for the first time in two weeks. The screaming and thrashing and pacing through the halls at all hours of the night is a recipe for fatigue and irritability for all.
As I sit here on this glorious Saturday morning, my toddler is shoveling a cold bun from take-out leftovers last night because I just couldn't do it anymore. I was done #adulting.
I am seriously surrounded by piles of laundry right now.
Some of the laundry is clean, there’s a pile that I know dried on the table because it was moved to free up the machines for an emergency uniform wash, damp sandy towels, and baskets of what looks like all of my clothes dumped in the middle of the living room.
Did I mention there are seven of us?
There is a pile of bedding used for nap time that has been peed on. There are boxes of supplies that have been waiting for weeks to be mailed by the front door; every day that I have walked by them I wonder when I will make it to the post office.
There are toys everywhere, but that's pretty normal for home with small children, isn't it?
There are backpacks and shoes piled all through what would be considered someone's dining room.
It is no wonder that we cannot find matching shoes from day to day.
And now, amidst all of the existing chaos, there is a lonely, cold hamburger patty that my toddler has just abandoned on top of the piece of paper that I write this to you on.
With leftover hamburger beneath my toes and the list of unimaginable chaos I can witness that exists from a simple glance up from this paper, we haven't even started on the happenings of the actual laundry room, kitchen, bedrooms or bathrooms.
In a perfect world, I would have all my work wrapped up by 1 PM Friday and head home for preparation for the Sabbath.
The house would be clean, the laundry would be done, food would be prepped and I would have zero concerns if maintenance needed to enter this war zone that we call an apartment this weekend.
If I close my eyes... and tune out the minecraft youtube commentator who has been on since 6 AM and just accept that my toddler is going to write on herself and the couch then maybe - just maybe - I can take a moment...
...a moment to feel the ocean breeze that whispers quietly through my apartment and listen to the soothing sound of the endless Atlantic shoreline that I am blessed to live by here in San Juan, Puerto Rico
When I stop, listen, stare out onto the endless ocean horizon, something happens inside me. Something is renewed.
There is a communication.
Verses of Scripture pop into my head.
My sight expands past my immediate vision of personal chaos and I am connected with my Creator.
The wind blows harder now; the ocean gets louder and the energy and heavenly family remind me that my support is always here.
My mission becomes bigger than me.
Where I have doubted myself, there is reinforcement.
Where I question my sanity, there is a fresh version of crazy installed.
Where there is despair, there is hope.
Where there is darkness, the light shines through.
Where there is fear, faith and courage override.