Chelsea Finds Jesus

I usually like to have a title in mind when I start writing one of these little posts, but today, I am feeling the weight of existence, and I am struggling to find words or inspiration. I want to disconnect badly right now. Unplug me, please. I want a drink. I want several. I want nicotine. I would settle for soda and junk food, but that would require me moving, and that isn’t an available option for my body. Currently, I’m locked in my bathroom, listening to my family through the door as they try and get out the door to run errands. I know I should help, but I just need to mentally check out for a minute…. I need a chance to be alone in thought and prayer so that I can be renewed.

It’s the Monday after Easter, also our hometown spring festival weekend, and my husband was working overnights the last three. I am whipped. I am also having to process those times when I didn’t behave in a way that I am particularly proud of, like when I freaked out because the baby peed on me at the carnival and I didn’t have a spare pair of shorts with me because I didn’t personally check the diaper bag and trusted it to my bigger kid who has been responsible for it every day for the last year and yet still managed to pack two pairs of shoes and no shorts and my kids started to run off with their friends from church and get suckered at carnival games and my husband is in the middle of a 3 night stretch and I don’t want to bother him when he should be sleeping and my teenager has abandoned me for his girlfriend again and I spent way too much money this weekend and I didn’t even get a damn funnel cake like tradition and I may have peed on myself a little when I sneezed at one point today and now the baby definitely just peed all over me for the second time this weekend and I am Done. With. It. ALL. I yelled for my kids to follow me and the stroller, and said, “We are leaving” and then power-strolled away from our friends (who even called my name and I ignored) so I could compose myself, because tears were welling up in my eyes and I felt the familiar rush of panic and the shut down of my rational thinking.

Listen, I know I sound crazy. I felt crazy at the carnival with all the lights and sounds and voices and movement and walking and relationships to maintain and expectations to meet and money to be wasted. And I felt alone under the crushing weight of expectation, because I took on total responsibility for my children’s happiness, for my husband’s need to be well-rested to stay alive, and I was carrying the weight that was too much for me. And it broke me for a minute. But here is the change for me: I called my best friend for help. Actually, I called my husband in tears hiding behind carnival equipment, but I reached out to the one I love and trust before I made any more impulse decisions. I argued with him, but I let him rescue me. I felt guilty for my perceived failure, but I told him the truth and was obedient to his direction. And it changed the outcome of the day. My husband stepped in and showed up immediately (in full work uniform) with clean clothes, changed the toddler in his truck seat, and took all of us back into the carnival together. He took command of our family unit, gathered the lost teenager back to us and sent the kids out together, and walked me through the carnival, able to enjoy a few more rides with the toddler, before he had to go in and work another shift.

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Wow. I certainly didn’t see it that way on Sunday. I was a mess Sunday. I was a mess Monday. It’s taken me all week to get to a different perspective. I had to force myself to go back and look at what I handled better than I would have in the past, and what I would do differently next time. I also need to acknowledge my husband’s stellar performance in my crisis moment at the festival, and then taking the whole brood the next day to the gym and the grocery store so I could have some peace.

This life is not easy. It’s damn hard. I can’t be alone in this feeling, either. I feel like there is a case to be made both for grace and for conviction here. I know I could have planned better, and not caved to the need to please everyone. I know I declined events because iffy weather and exhaustion would only create new heartache in our home. I know I should have been more aware of how I process information when highly stimulated, and how I react to change even in the best circumstances. I know Easter and the festival won’t land on the same weekend again until 2031, so I have some time to prepare. I know my kids had some good times. I know my husband stayed safe this weekend. That’s enough today.

I was enough for my kids this weekend. I was enough for my husband. I am not willing to live in my past failures today. God said I am enough, and I have to also remember that I Am is Enough for me too. But I’m tired too. Of course I am tired. I should be tired today. Talk about a parenting perfect storm!

But then again, I had these moments…

Life is messy. My life is really messy these days. My kids are messy, my husband is messy, friendships are messy, ministry is messy, my room is messy….. Thank You, Jesus, for stepping into my mess. I need His love and power to overcome this world, and I need his grace when I fall short. My life is good, really. I have so much to be thankful for. I knew this wasn’t going to be easy, but I am learning how to raise humans and be a wife and a friend and care about other people in a healthy way. I’m learning how to prioritize my family, and how to love my husband first. I am in this life for the long haul, with all the chaos that comes with it.

Jesus, be my anchor. It’s hard to navigate the waters of life, and without You by my side, I am adrift in the waves. Calm my thoughts, focus my gaze on You. I am sorry for the times that I failed and I receive Your forgiveness. Holy Spirit, correct my course when I am not in step with Your will for me. Help me to be realistic in my expectations for myself and for people around me. Illuminate those places that You would use me, and give me wisdom for how to be used. Help me to give grace to myself and to my family, especially my daughter. Help me to see her through Your eyes, and to love her as You love her. Amen.