|This might be a good addition to my jewelery box||.|
On Tuesday morning, I said to a friend, "I'm not sure what Andy does around the house, but I miss it."
By the end of the week which included, delays, extended school days, and canceled school, I was beginning to get an inkling of what he does.
He packs lunches and
picks up kids and
runs them to practices and
grabs a gallon of milk and
helps with homework and
reminds them of chores and
plays fight to the finish and
listens to the I-can't-believe-my-teacher-did and
chops the onions and
takes out the trash and
prays aloud and
gets my computer and
reminds me when the washer stops and
puts away the left overs and
fills up my gas tank and
turns out the lights and
shovels the front walk and
I was surprised to find it wasn't the tasks that left me feeling frazzled. I was prepared to pick up Andy's weight around the house. (Although the whole picking-kids-up-from-school and listening to tween girls rehash the day and corralling young boys filled with energy into doing homework is more trying than I realized.)
Rather, I felt like I was constantly on the verge of failing. At any moment, everything could fall apart. And if that happened, if I didn't have everything timed just so, then it would be the first domino in a line tipping and the entire family life and school work and the whole entire world would topple around me.
This is enough to unravel the best of us.
And then I was reminded that Andy isn't the only anchor in my life. When I held fast and trusted the One who organizes life, I was instantly secured. I realized it's not about following the plan and getting things done, rather it is about holding fast to an anchor that sustains me.
Even more importantly, I realized that although Andy helps to keep me grounded, my true anchor is the Lord.