I wrote this last year around this time, and I'm glad I don't feel this way today; however, it brings a great question I'll ask at the end.
January 25, 2017
I woke up this morning feeling mad. Just irritated.
I’m trying to let myself feel better after being sick for weeks, so I’ve been turning off my alarm and going to bed with enough time to get rest. I went to bed at 9:30 and was definitely asleep by 10, so I assumed—and planned—I’d be awake by 5. I rolled over at 6:12 and was annoyed.
So, I thought through potential schedule changes—I won’t work out; I’ll log in late; I’ll blog-work for only 30 minutes—while I dug for my phone in the drawer.
6 new messages.
My brother informed our family that Bekah's in OU Children’s Hospital because her amniotic fluid was low, but Sweet P looked good. They would be in the hospital for approximately 10 weeks, or until Sweet P was born. At 24 weeks, Sweet P is viable, but 28 weeks solidifies his brain and lungs.
It was at that point I just decided to take my time. It has been a whirlwind of the past three weeks, and my body is fighting sickness, so I decided to take it slow.
I did my normal morning routine and posted the information on the prayer Slack channels, told my boss I’d be in later because I felt awful and just took my time.
Do you ever just need life to stop and shut up? Do you ever need to just take your time? It’s moments like these when I don’t want to have the patience to be kind to someone, when I shouldn’t be around others because there’s a high chance I’ll say something rude for no reason.
What do you do when you hit that wall?
I don’t have a constant go-to. Today, I took a yoga class on Aaptiv. I did all the dishes that had been piling for the last 4 days—our dishwasher is broken—and listened to two episodes of The Happy Hour with Jamie Ivey. I cleaned my kitchen. I showered, put on makeup, and got dressed in real clothes.
But now I’m fully dressed, my kitchen is clean, I should log on and work, but I just can’t. I’m in that funk.
I would love for this blog to end with a sort of redemption, but it doesn’t. My heart is heavy for my brother and his family; my body is tired from sickness; my soul has a longing unfulfilled.
And I just have to un-scrunch my angry eyebrows and find something to be grateful for.
A year later, Sweet P is our precious baby Judah, who is walking and is so healthy. And spoiled by his aunties who love him more than we thought possible.
But in that moment, I didn't see that coming. I was overwhelmed by my own wall that I had put in front of myself. Over the past year, I've hit that wall pretty often, and I find something to distract me--reading, writing, running, crafting, praying, cleaning--until the wall feels farther away or not as big.
How do you get out of this funk when you hit it? What are some things you do?