I’m living a cluttered life. As a person with anxiety issues, moving represents some of the things I hate most. Change, uncertainty, and living unorganized until boxes can be unpacked.
Growing up I remember hearing “a messy area is a sign of creativity”. I had a sign in my office in Nashville that said “a cluttered desk is a sign of genius”. We actually took turns at first, presenting the sign to the person with the messiest office, but somehow it found a permanent home in mine. As we unpack, we’re finding we have too much stuff and not enough space, so we’re weeding out.
The house is reflecting my thoughts these days. A growing “to do” pile, and “boxes” everywhere. Self doubt, hurt feelings and bruised egos lurk in the shadows of the boxes. The mental clutter is starting to affect my prayer life too, which I’ve already been struggling with.
I pray in the shower. It’s sometimes the only place where I can have a few minutes without interruption. Sometimes.
So this morning I’m praying. I start off with the usual “Thank you for this new day, this new opportunity…” and I start thinking about Child the III’s first day of school yesterday, because it involved a lot of new for him. Then I start to wonder about the before and after school program I’ve enrolled him in. Oh yeah, I was praying. So I pray for the school care workers, for Child the III as he gets used to the program.
Hmm… We have our completion banquet at work tonight, so we’ve got to pick him up earlier. Hmm… We’re having pork chops for dinner tonight. Kiddo and I don’t eat pork chops. I wonder what I can bring for him? Oh yeah!! Praying!! “be with the men who complete tonight, theirs is sometimes a harder road then the newcomers.”
Etc etc etc. you get the idea. It was a cluttered prayer to start my cluttered day.
But all I need is today. One day at a time, right? I’ve been blessed with another day. Another chance to say “Thank you”, “I’m sorry” and “I love you”.