I think I’ve written about this before. In any case, this (insert the title here) has always been true for me. Detail-oriented, follow-through-with-everything Whitney has stressed over little things her entire life. I know some of you others feel that way, too. Which is why this particular situation and my resulting feelings might be for you, too.
Sometimes, I think the Lord speaks to you through the most random people.
Like the other day, someone commented on my post about our “terrible, horrible, no good, very bad evening“. She basically said this: we can handle big things like we’re ninjas (I loved that!), but when it comes to a pile up of small things, we may just go insane.
Too right she is.
When something big happens, something really important or truly difficult, I ninja up, call upon my people to help or pray, roll up my sleeves and get through it. But if a hundred little tiny things go wrong during a regular old day, when I can’t pinpoint the problem or put my finger on the exact thing that’s frustrating me, I start to go bonkers. I mean it. Bonkers. I want to fly off the handle. Sometimes I do. But who does that benefit? No one. Not me, certainly. Not my kids, who didn’t really do anything besides act their ages. Not Hubby, who is as patient with and kind to me as any human alive could be.
When I read her comment, it was like I got a tap on the shoulder: Hey, she’s talking about YOU. I’ve typically been cool under pressure, and able to handle a lot of stress when it’s put on my shoulders. But BOY do I ever sweat the small stuff. And as a mom, that’s the biggest recurring piece of advice I hear… Don’t sweat the small stuff. Enjoy the little moments. You’ll miss this. Don’t worry about the accidents and messes. Well, that’s all well and fine to say, and for me to nod and smile about. But when he spills the third meal on the floor I just cleaned, add some pee-pee in her panties, hear from the babysitter who’s cancelling and ruining my date night, and then I can’t even give my kids a bath without the entire bathroom (and myself) being soaked? I’m done. I AM DONE.
Any one of those things is a little thing. It falls into the category of “small stuff”. I’m sure I’d think several of those things are funny in a few days when they haven’t happened in a while. But altogether, piled on in the same day, it overwhelms me in a way I can’t accurately describe. I’m immediately ready to throw in the urine-covered towel, and tell Hubby I’m going on date night alone. I’d like to say that my first response is to call for help, to lean on the One who is always ready to hear my cry and give me exactly what I need. But how often is He my last resort? I call on Him for big things, for important things, for scary things. But for the little stuff? Nah – I think I can handle it myself.
Well, I can’t. I need peace. I need rest. I need help. I need love to flow out of me. I can only find those things in one place: the arms of Jesus. And there’s good news! He’s ready and waiting to accept me with open arms, and give me what I need.