Water

 "Anxiety is a method of seeking two experiences: certainty and comfort. The problem is that it wants these two outcomes immediately and continually."

It's been a busy few weeks here. Peanut caught a stomach bug at church, I ended up with some version of that, and then we brought home a puppy. Amongst the normal back to school, raising 3 kids, in a controversial pandemic.

The pool requires daily cleaning and treating. With the illnesses, I missed a few days and the water was no longer clean or clear. At this late in the season, I decided to just go ahead and take it down. We have loved it and enjoyed it, and saved it to put again next season.

When the pool was completely put away, I sat in my chair and looked at the large spot where grass no longer grows.

The weight of the pool, combined with no sunlight in that spot, caused the grass to die.

The yard is barren.

Last night I retreated to the yard to watch the puppy play before bedtime, and I sat staring at this rectangle of nothing where green grass used to be.

There will be deep soil work that needs to be done for grass to grow there again.

I nodded my head at that spot and thought "me too yard, me too."

Sometimes the weight of holding something so heavy, for so long, blocks the light.

Sometimes you are forever changed by the cost of carrying the burden.

When that happens, the only way to grow is to do the deep soil work.

Dig up that which is ugly.

Plant new seeds.

I didn't sleep much last night. The exhaustion sleep of illness and puppy have passed. I woke with excessive leg cramps.

A reminder my body is thirsty.

My mind turning over is my reminder my soul is thirsty.

In the busyness of the last two weeks, I have not done that which saves me.

I have not walked with my podcast.

I have not drank the water from the pretty water bottle I bought.

I have not sat with a book and truly lingered.

I have not written words that speak to ME.

I'm thirsty.

That which is dry can not grow.

So I woke up this morning, drank my hot tea while looking out at my barren rectangle of yard.

Decided today, I dig up the soil.

Today I plant new seeds.

Today I water that which is dry.

Mama Warriors, it's so easy to let those things that water our own soil slip away.

The disappear in the lie that there is no time.

Oddly there is time to drive kids to a million different things? Time to say yes to things you don't feel called to but feel guilty if you say no? Time to squeeze in one more "to do"?

There is time to water your own soil.

You may have to learn to say some hard no's.

You may have to learn to prioritize YOU.

You may have to be creative.

Yesterday I read a book in a chair under an awning in the rain outside Peanut's dance class.

I did not rush to Walmart, even though I needed to. Instead we creatively made breakfast for dinner because I did have pancake mix and blueberries.

I sat.

I watered.

If we want to grow, we have to make time to let the light in and water that which is dry.