What Crisis Management Mode Actually Looks Like

Image by Hamed Saber

Um. It's not pretty. (Unlike the lovely picture I've chosen for this post. I think I'm wishing I were there sometimes.)

I've been talking about crisis management mode here and here. And I'm definitely right in the middle of it. My baby isn't even here yet, but it is taking everything I've got just to get through the day. I'm waking many nights not being able to return to sleep. So, I'm very fatigued. Very.

A dear friend told me that perhaps even my last list was a little too ambitious. She told me to focus on "getting dressed and feeding and watering my family". Yes. I think she was right. As I have energy, I'm looking to other things as well, but I really don't have much energy.

So, right now, the house is often littered with random things. We've eaten eggs for dinner more times than I care to count. Laundry is in a little behind and what is clean is still in baskets. My husband is doing lots of dishes, and the meals we've had that weren't eggs, he prepared on the grill. (Bless that man.)

And blogging?

Ha!

That's about all I have to say about that.

To be honest, this has been really hard for me. I felt irresponsible and as though I were letting "someone" down. You know, the hordes of you who are tromping over here every day waiting with bated breath to read what I've written.

But I've come to realize (a bit painfully) that I may need to really step back from blogging even more than I had intentioned to when I anticipated baby coming. I don't plan to stop altogether. I love to write and I love to share what God has been teaching me. But this blog simply doesn't make the cut when it comes to my biggest priorities.

And that's OK.

Wow. What a burden lifted.

I am forever imposing burdens on myself that just don't need to be there. Doing things with a false sense of urgency.

When everything else falls away, there will be so little that really, really, really matters. And I want to focus on, and enjoy, what really matters.

I sincerely hope that those of you who stop by will continue to do so once in a while. Even if it means that there is a serious decline in fresh content. Of course, you could subscribe and then you wouldn't have to keep checking and you'd never miss a single captivating post. Hint, hint. Poke, poke.

But even if some of you move on to greener pastures and never visit again...that's OK. Can you tell I'm talking to myself?

Lord, thank you for the gift of family. For the blessings of children. Thank you for the opportunity of this season of life. Of nurturing, loving and teaching my little ones. May I never miss the "moments" that matter as I'm caught up in something far less important.

A Peek Inside My Heart--It's a REAL Job! Series #7

Image by @Maco

Today for the It's a REAL Job! Series I'd like to do something a little different. I'd like to invite you to step back in time with me to the point in my life when I was realizing for the first time a little bit of what it really meant to give my all to being a keeper of my home.

The following is a journal entry I made almost exactly a year ago. It's written as a prayer.

Dear Father,

So, You've been teaching me some new things recently. And I feel like I don't even know quite where to begin to synthesize it all. I feel like my eyes are being opened a little bit.

I'm seeing my life as it really is--or at least moreso than I have before. I'm seeing the pride, the sloppiness, the mediocrity, the laziness, the selfishness...and more. There's more? Oh, yes. Unfortunately.

I feel as though I'm beginning to understand that life doesn't have to be this way. Indeed, perhaps it shouldn't be. Perhaps I've been believing a lie--a lie perpetuated by modern day culture and the Father of Lies himself.

The lie: Striving for anything more than the status quo is trying to be "Superwoman".

And, of course, we all know that Superwoman isn't real. But. Why have we elevated character, consistency, follow-through, diligence, faithfulness, and just plain hard work to Superwoman status?

These are all qualities You have called us to--and You don't call us to an imaginary, unrealistic standard.

So, why is it that I've believed for so long that women who do things like rise early, keep an orderly home, are generally well-prepared for routine life, homeschool, love their husbands, seek to grow in the Lord, train and love their children either:

a) Don't truly exist
b) Are not really genuine--in other words, they lie about who they are, so...
c) Again, this woman doesn't really exist

I never said it in so many words to myself, but actions confirm belief more than words. And my actions have confirmed my belief that all I could truly expect in my life as a wife and mother was sloppy mediocrity. And doesn't our society encourage the image of the harried mother? Pulled in fifteen directions at once? Isn't a mother supposed to be under quite a lot of stress and, really, aren't we asking too much of ourselves as mothers--pushing ourselves too hard; stressing too much if we're trying to have an orderly home, for instance?

After all, it's the people in our home who need attention most--not the toilets.

I'm not so sure.

All of a sudden, I'm seeing things in a new way. I see valuable truth mixed in with deception--but, after all--isn't that one of the enemy's most brilliant tools?

Yes! People are most important. Of course they are. But, in fact, I'm seeing now that I can do the people in my home--my husband and children--a great disservice by pretending to focus on them and not the "toilets". ("Toilets" being merely representative of all work that can feel like drudgery.)

First of all, I’m communicating to them that I don’t care enough about them to give them “clean toilets” (remembering that this represents far more than just the toilet).

Secondly, isn’t it better for everyone—but how much more so for little children—to be in an environment that is calm, peaceful, beautiful, and orderly (all things that can result—at least in part—from “clean toilets”)? Don’t I take care of the people in my home best by attending to their need for “clean toilets” as well as their need for, say, affection or mental stimulation?

Third, I’m modeling an attitude, value, or belief in all that I do. My children are learning from everything I do, say, think (because it shows up in my actions), or what I don’t do. Don’t I want to see my children become men of diligence, thoroughness, commitment, and faithfulness in the little things? Don’t I want them to know the value of hard work and to do it with a willing heart? Don’t I want them to stretch their limits and press for excellence in their lives instead of settling for mediocrity?

How in the world do I expect to see these things take hold in their hearts if from their earliest years they have learned, by watching my model, habits of half-way-ness, just-enough-ness, when-I-feel-like-it-ness, and good intentions but no follow-through-ness? I’m fooling myself if I think that what they experience in daily life and observe in me as they are little children has little effect on them. Indeed, the little habits they observe and experience now are soon incorporated into their own young lives and will not be easily culled out later. They won’t hit the magical mark of 25 and find themselves mysteriously transformed into men of excellence as I look on and remark with a contented sigh, “They’re just as I dreamed they would be—it’s all a mother could hope for!” How ridiculous!

I’m tempted to say that this early training in habit does not only have little effect, but that it is, in fact, nearly everything to the development of who they will be as men. This leans, perhaps, too heavily on man’s influence and I don’t want to forget that You, Father, are the utmost influence or ‘variable' if you will on a person’s life. For, certainly, You have raised up godly men of excellence who came out of some of the worst early experiences wherein they must have observed and learned poor habits. But, I daresay, that they are the exception rather than the rule.

Finally, coming back to the thought that the idea of “people over toilets” is a kind of deception, let me say that not only do I believe it to be a deception, but a distraction. Am I focusing so much on my pious “people over toilets” dogma that I don’t realize I’m not even caring for the people in the ways which I have sanctimoniously declared to actually matter (time and attention, for instance)?

Really, the purpose of my "people over toilets" dogma is to allow me to avoid things like hard work, unpleasant tasks, and so on. My focus is on what I don’t want to do with a veneer of “people caring”.

But since my focus is on the avoidance, the people are actually getting overlooked! I’m whiling away my hours (and hours are adding up to my life doing meaningless things. For instance, my face is glued to a computer screen (this is my biggest time waster) while my children are left. . .to themselves.

This is what deception is—it always looks good—attractive and noble even—on the surface. But underneath lies the ugly reality.

No more. No more! God! Help me. Help me to see clearly with the veil of deception lifted. To work heartily as unto You and to do my work with all my might—actually, with all Your power that so mightily works in me. Mediocrity is not what you have called me to. Excellence is.