Such was the case for me yesterday afternoon. The day was stressful for me all around. Since my husband had overslept, and we had gone out the night before, I didn't get a chance to iron his clothes. I wanted to make the time for that, in spite of being pressed for time. I wanted to leave the house around 7:15 to get my allergy shots.
Without going into a lot of detail, it was a challenging day at work. One of the reasons was I skipped lunch for a good reason. I was hungry, but I wanted to show my dedication to my job, in spite of a growling stomach and physical and mental weakness.
By this time, I felt like I had been spread too thin. I cried on my way home.
And my good cry elevated to a temper tantrum the minute I got home and realized I had two loads of laundry to fold, one to iron as much as time permitted, and another load of permanent press to wash. The mere sight of a basket overflowing with clean but unfolded laundry was enough to make me want to throw in a fit of rage some of the things I had hanging out to dry on top of the washer and dryer. In defiance of completing the adult version of the never-ending story, I grabbed that basket full of clothes and threw it to one side of my bedroom and myself down on the bed and cried.
I soon fell asleep. I must have been so sound-asleep that I didn't hear the loud buzzer go off from the washer. When I woke up and realized the wash was done, and more time had passed than I wanted to, I cried even more as I put them in the dryer. The only thing I wanted to do was write. I wondered if I was going to be able to do so in spite of having limited time. It was 4:10; before too long, my husband would be home and we'd have a quick dinner before going to church.
Nonetheless, I booted up my laptop and wrote something that birthed as a result of these tears. That, and talking to my husband about what was on my mind over a warm homemade meal, made me feel better. What did I do after we got done eating? I washed the dishes in the sink and folded both loads of laundry that were in that basket before we headed out to church.
If having a quick, late, and mostly unfulfilling lunch served a good purpose, it allowed me to have a soul-soothing moment after we got home from church. While eating some yogurt with some almond M&Ms mixed in it and a piece of bread with butter, with a tall glass of milk to wash it down, I wrote down a rough idea for another devotion. It is based on the Scripture I thought of during what I call my laundry room temper tantrum. Psalm 71:3, NKJV, italics mine: Be my strong refuge, To which I may resort continually; You have given the commandment to save me, For You are my rock and my fortress.
As for ironing the permanent press, I could do that later. It's in this moment of disengaging that I realized David is going to be off from work until next Tuesday. Why not give myself a mini-resort at my laptop to write some more of the ideas I have for the book with my journal entries, my devotions, and all of my novels in progress, especially Writing Soulmates and Kill the Locust?
When I woke up yesterday morning, I wanted the day to go by fast. I had a long-awaited doctor's appointment in which I had some burning questions for my doctor. It's now 6:15am. And I'm so happy to have had an opportunity to write to have taken the edge off of my anxiety.
I just had to cry first.
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