Life

Mystery Wounds

The week without legs squirms on. Appointments piled up to 15 since Friday are taking mysterious stabs and my skin.  How do other people manage parenting alone?

How do they homsechool, start a small group, fundraise for a mission trip, pay the bills, fix the broken things that pop up, deal with emotional break-downs, participate in teaching jr. highers, attend church, have meetings with couple friends, have meetings with people associated to commitments, maintain friendship with people, respond to emails and texts, work a part-time job, pray, study, run errands, cook, clean, self-hygeinate, manage insulin dependent diabetes, manage the supplies, manage emergency medicine, teach some more, have party meetings and maintain sanity?

I don’t hire anything out, other than a math teacher 3 hrs a week.  I send the kids to youth, but I stay to take pictures.  I get two hours while the girls are at art class and an hour and a half while they’re at violin.  I don’t get sleep because diabetes blood sugar monitor wakes me in the night asking for action, more than once per evening.  I’m unable to take a deep breath and I’m realizing this might be the breaking point.  I’m breaking from the outside and the inside at the same time.  These hands doing the typing are covered in tiny cuts, a sign of what I don’t realize is happening.  I’m boiling on the inside, festering, needing a change.  I desire immediate results of something I CAN control.

Friday, while running my errands, I’m determined to buy a saw, hack the bushes down and drag them to the curb.  I’m hoping this (act of insanity) will release stress and provide an immediate sense of satisfaction or peace.  If not, I’m declaring a day of leave-me-alone bed rest.

The wounds need to heal.

Sadly. people know I’m alone.  God, what are you teaching me.  I’m praying for you to speak loudly.  Are you?

I wish I could go back to this simple life where a bath in a wash pan was careless and fun.   IMG_6388

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