This week has crushed my house with constant activity. And I've been cranky about it.
A seemingly endless to-do list. All important things with large consequences attached to them if they go undone. Hurried meals. The front door opening with people going, and coming, and going again. Laundry piling up. The copy machine at the church refusing to come to life, the backlog of office work stacking up on my desk, the bills to pay, the school projects my kids are already coming home with on the second week of school, the trip I'm supposed to be packing for...
And the knowledge of so many people with hurts so great they take your breath away to ponder what it must be like to live with that kind of pain.
Because being a minister, you hear about them. Not just in a whispered comment at the grocery store, but eye to eye in the office, the kleenex box between you and the broken heart.
The couple whose marriage is breaking.
The agonized parent dealing with the drug-addicted teen.
The family who just love their loved one forever.
The children who were sent into foster care.
And it's this knowledge that stops me from sliding into self-pity over my overwhelmed schedule.
Because when I view my life through the lenses of blessings realized, I realize what I often call "pressure" is simply the fruit of a full and bountiful life. And the consequences of the to-do list going undone aren't that large, after all, in comparison to roads others are walking.
And so tonight I stop.
And breathe.
And let the laundry pile up for one more evening.
And give thanks.
And pray for the Father to blow the breath of healing across hearts that are breaking.
And on my way to help with the science report, I find I am grateful.
To be living this life.
To hold this man.
To mother these people.
To serve this city.
To love this God.
To have a chance to wake up tomorrow to bring the healing breath to the broken.