I had to go ‘back to work’ yesterday. Twelve weeks FLEW by. You know that weird place where you don’t feel entitled to your own feelings. That simply by feeling them, you are betraying some unwritten rule. That’s how I felt. When there are 30+ other women pregnant with you at the same time, and you watch 50%+ have to endure that excruciating day, where they leave their sweet lil babe behind for the first time and return to work, you come up short.
How do I schedule my day? We need groceries. What am I going to cook? How much work am I going to walk back into? Man, my house is a MESS. This is hard. No, you can’t say this is hard, I’m supposed to speak life. O.k…. I can do this. How? How am I going to do this? Stop it Julie, that is not faith, you’re supposed to trust. I do…. shut up self. Seriously though, how am I supposed to work out, have a quiet time, work, clean, shop, cook, and school? You’re not. Thanks God, I appreciate the grace there, but I am. No. Your not. O.k…. which one don’t I do? You do them all. God… your contradicting yourself, your not supposed to do that. I wouldn’t do that, if you didn’t interrupt me. Sorry. You do them all, at different times, I’m working on discipline and obedience. RIIIIIIGHT…… not my strong suits. Alright, I hope you have a solid game plan for this God, cause I can’t see past about 5 minutes in front of me…. speaking of which, writing this blog, can I do that? Am I wasting time? No, this is my gift to you…. words…. time to think and get it out of your head so you can move on. Now move on.
O.k. God…. I think I got it…. but maybe you don’t go to far away alright, cause this is a little insane.
Sweet daughter, you forget, I’m the author of insane, and I’ve never left your side.