I used to be really good at rolling with the punches... not much of a planner by nature... definitely not one of those people who needed her whole life to be organized or color coded.
I was not a list maker, multi-tasker, or house cleaner.
Then I had six little kids running around all day... and if I did not perpetually follow them cleaning up... life wouldn't work. If I didn't plan and bring diapers and sippy cups and fishy crackers along at all times... I would most certainly live to regret it. If I didn't organize I would loose another pair of someone's socks or forget a feeding time. So, I learned... slowly... by the skin of my teeth (as it usually is when the Lord is trying to teach me a new skill) I learned.
Then I got pregnant, and some switch in my brain went into overdrive and I became a freakshow.
A clorox wipe obsessing, color coding, list making, organization loving, house cleaning, dinner making, planning way in advance, need to know the details... freakshow.
Maybe it was all the unexpected things in this pregnancy. Maybe it's just the momma coming out in me. Maybe I was this way all along and just fought it because I thought it would be more fun to roll with it and not have a plan.
Maybe it's simply that with each stage of life we change... We become more of who we truly are.... Maybe, at heart... I did always love clorox wipes and color coded closets and I'm just now realizing it :)
Or maybe, when life throws us a lot of the unexpected... we try to control the things we can.
So when the hairstylist turns our hair orange... we loose it.
Or when the house is trashed because of an insane schedule... we feel all out of wack.
So when the stack of unanswered mail piles up, the kids are screaming, and there is gum stuck to the floor of the van.... we can't handle it.
Because none of it was part of the plan. We wanted normal hair, a clean house, paid bills, kids who are well behaved, and a van that didn't smell like dirty diapers and have gum stuck to the carpet. By "we" here I really mean me.
See... there has been enough of the unexpected... so it's the little things... the small every day things that I just want predictable.
And all the time... I hear Him whisper... "just let it go...."
A year ago I thrived on the chaos and unpredictability of our lives... the messiness of Grace Refuge and what I did there... the kids and the fullness of our existence. I thrived on watching God show his face in unexpected ways each and every day.
And then both our jobs were gone, I was on bed rest, and we had no idea where we'd live... and I began to cling to what was predictable... safe... the little that did feel secure and normal. And although we now both have jobs again, we officially own our house and will not have to be worrying about where we'll live, and Jayda is doing fabulous and growing right on track... I find that I'm still clinging to all the little stuff.
Like the fact that the paint color in her room has to be perfect.
Or the fact that my hair has to be exactly how I want it... which, for the record... is not orange.
Or the fact that I like my van clean... even though that's simply impossible when five little people currently occupy the back seats.
Like the fact that I am starting to get really overwhelmed with being pregnant and am longing for my familiar body and familiar clothes and familiar emotions.
I knew something was slightly wrong with me when they told me Jayda was sideways (she is now breech) and said a C-section was a high possibility and I was actually relieved because I could plan for it...
I was relieved that I may have to have major surgery instead of have her naturally and I was relieved because I could "plan" for it.... for the birth... the pain... the afterward... I would know when it was going to happen... and that felt safe for me.
I mean... seriously... have I gone mad?
I'll probably bring my chlorox wipes and ask them if I can get my hands on the recovery room beforehand. You know... color code things a little bit.
And the voice repeats...
"Let it go..."
"So what if you have orange hair and the van is trashed and the kids are screaming at each other? So what if the dog made the floor a muddy mess and your insurance accidentally dropped your coverage and you now have tons of bills headed your way to made heads or tails of? Is it really worth loosing your joy? Your heart? Your cool? I healed your baby... gave you a home... and provided for you when you had no idea if you were going to make it and you're worried about your color coded closet and your orange hair? Don't you think I've got this... all of this... too?"
And then I breathe... I put the clorox wipes away... and I realize...
He knows how Jayda is going to come into this world.
He knows that there is gum stuck to the floor of the van.
He knows I hate my orange hair.
He knows I'm about to fall apart because of muddy paw prints, extra work hours, and the large portion of my closet that is currently laying on our bedroom floor.
He knows that even though my baby is okay... I still worry when she doesn't move for a few hours... I still hold my breath a little before every appointment... He knows that every day... there is still that little part of my heart that can't help but wonder if something might go wrong.
But more than knowing... He cares.... about orange hair and clorox wipes and my mini van. He cares and he sees and even when the stupidest things overwhelm my silly shaky heart... He still speaks.
Maybe the point in all of this was to draw us out of a place of safety and into a place of reliance on the fact that He is good... even when we don't understand... even when we're afraid... even when things don't really go the way we wanted.
That He is a God of the daily messes... the things that aren't life altering but happen to be wrecking our morning... He is still Lord even we our attitude needs a serious adjustment and our tone could be far sweeter. He still speaks when we are stubborn and having a meltdown over gum.
And the sweetest thing about Him... He doesn't ask me to give up the clorox habit or leave my hair orange. Only that I remember what is big in this life... and what isn't.
Only that I hand over the big and the small, and trust that he knows how to handle it when I feel like I can't.
Maybe after this pregnancy is over I'll go back to being happy to roll with the punches... maybe the clorox and color coding are here to stay.
Either way, sometimes all we really need is to know He loves us either way.
Now... I'm off to schedule a hair appointment and resume my cleaning ;)
Much Love,
Kayla
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