The external pressure is getting to me this morning, succeed, nurture, learn, work. All the forces pull on me cloud my vision and confuse my priorities. I don’t know how to set them straight, they all seem good, but I don’t know what is best. I’m striving. My number one, oft returned to crutch. Because God and I know what is true. What is true is that I don’t have all the answers. What is true is that I really can’t do everything that my life requires alone. I will not achieve it. It’s disheartening the knowing that I can’t do it. I was raised by a bunch of stubborn Irish people. The thought that I can’t do something is downright blasphemous in my family. It’s heresy. But not the heresy of God, although many a sermon has been preached in churches on the gospel of can’t. God is comfortable with my can’t because he gave it to me like it was a gift. It was a gift and not a condemnation. In Irish people religion to tell someone they can’t is an insult, it’s tantamount to saying that you are less than me, because I, I can do anything I set my mind to. My mother, ever the encourager, will say to me, “Sure you can!” in her best enthusiastic tone of voice. She’s trying to be sweet while at the same time saying, ‘can’t is unacceptable.’
But the truth is I can’t. Today, I am supposed to be at the library at my school researching a Hebrew word prior to class so that I can finish my homework. I missed this class last week in order to go to my sons’ back to school night last night. I can’t very well show up with unfinished homework today. However, my son Harvey is sick and he can’t go to school today. Last night during a visit with his father his fever reached 103.7, apparently no medicine was given so we ended up at the urgent care. Harvey is fine but obviously unable to attend school, so I can’t go to the library, which means I can’t finish my homework because the resources I need are there. Which concerns me because I already missed this class once and this is only our third class and I don’t want this prof thinking I’m a slacker. Although Satan’s bent would be to tell me I am one as well. I’m not a slacker though, my kid is sick and I’m sacrificing ministering to him tonight just to be at class.
In this spring, I learned a hard lesson. I was constantly striving to keep food on the table and the rent paid. I was running around like a chicken with my head cut off for $25 here and $50 here. Low and behold there was still never enough. I was drowning in legal BS paperwork and trying to care for my family in a less than ideal living situation. I was exhausted and so freaking stressed out and sick a lot. God gave me a gift back then of learning that I had to stop striving. I had to stop trying to do it all. I was not She-ra and I could not achieve what I was trying to do every day. He gave me my out, my can’t. Since then I have vacillated through periods of peace where I know God understands what I need for my family and he will lead me down the right path of securing that to other times when I return to the headless chicken status.
But today, for right this minute, I’m sitting, I’m quieting myself before the altar (tongue in cheek) known as my impossible to do list and I’m waiting for God to speak. He’s so gracious and kind to me. He knows I’m frantic and worried about my son and more than a little ADD. But in the stillness he’ll show me how to order my time. He’ll show me what comes first. Because he’s my father and he is good.