Mondays happen to all of us once a week.
Here’s another deep thought. Some Mondays are great, and others are Monday-type Mondays.
Around here, today was a Monday-type Monday. You know the kind. Everyone had to get up far earlier than they wanted to. All of those little things that seemed attainable when you thought about them on Sunday night turned into nightmares when you tried to accomplish them. It was too cold outside…again…you’d think it was winter or something! This was the kind of Monday where your children fought naps, your cupboards grew more bare in spite of the fact that your grocery list is still non-existent, and you may or may not have dishes still taunting you from the sink after 10:00 at night. But that’s just a general example. Any truth to the description just described is purely coincidental. 😉
One thing continually grated on my nerves today, and I’m convinced that it is both the primary reason that my day was a Monday-type Monday as well as the very part that is today’s redeeming quality.
It was the fit throwing of my two sweet children. The kind of fits that involve tears, and dramatic body lunges, attempting to somehow injure one’s self in the process for the sake of “proving one’s point” to the offending parties. The fits that are made up of whining, determination to keep it up for the long haul no matter how many times the parents step in to handle things appropriately.
It was quite pleasant, as you can imagine. My nerves were shredded like cabbage for sauerkraut.
It was somewhere in the midst of tragedy number 37 of the day that I really heard what I’d been saying and thinking all day long. “You’re spending so much time crying about how much you don’t want to do this and how hard it is that you are wasting the time you could be enjoying yourself.”
It was during the continued tears and objections of fit number 37 that I stopped inwardly rolling my eyes at how ridiculous it was to cry about picking up a few little toys off the floor while baby sister cried at my audacity to think that putting her down for a nap would somehow make her less tired. Right then, God gently challenged me to apply the phrase I’d had on repeat all day to my own life when it comes to His plans for my life.
The thing is, God has placed dreams in my heart. I know they’re what He wants for me, and I do want them too, but sometimes I get kind of whiny when it comes time to do the work. Like writing this blog post at 10:42 P.M. when I’d rather be catching up on “The Next Great Baker” on Netflix. However, part of His dream is for me to write, if only for an audience of One. While I oftentimes want to put my thoughts into the written word, there are many times when I whine myself out of the time to get it done.
“I want to do it, but I’m too tired to move.”
“After a day like today, I can’t think clearly enough to get anything into a coherent sentence.” (Let the records show that sometimes, this excuse is legitimate, but not as often as I use it.)
“I don’t feel inspired enough to write anything worthwhile.”
“No matter what I do to organize quiet time to myself so I can write, one of those munchkins wakes up, refuses to sleep, or needs my attention.”
The list grows the longer I whine, and the next thing I know, I lose my chance to do what I love. It’s not because of anyone else; it’s because I chose to not focus on the positives, be creative, and buckle down to do my work.
It’s true that finding something to be thankful for in every circumstance – even Monday-type Mondays – will make your day better. It’s also true that even wailing children and piles of laundry can teach you something about yourself.
So let me ask. What God-given dream are you having a hard time accomplishing because you’ve inadvertently given in to the whine-monster?
Linking up with Jen Ferguson.