Sorting it All Out

"I laugh, I love, I hope, I try, I hurt, I need, I fear, I cry. And I know you do the same things too, So we're really not that different, me and you." ~ Colin Raye 

As I sit here listening to the rain hit my window, I feel a strange sense of calm that has DEFINITELY eluded me all week. Remember my big talk about being still? Yeah...I ran back and forth past my bench a LOT this week.

If I wasn't trying to put out fires on last minute things, I was running errands to make sure my little darlings had what they need for Halloween costumes. (Man.. how I wish we were back in the days of me picking out costumes and my mom sewing them.) 

And, when I wasn't racing around for those kind of things, I was stopping just long enough for my heart to break all over again at the news that one of our girls' favorite nannies lost her baby. It's not about me or Kerry or the girls and how sad we are. It's not about our own grief. It's that gut wrenching ACHE I feel for her and her husband, and their undeniably, amazing faith that is carrying them through this whole ordeal. 

I look at my girls and all I can think of is how much she has always loved them and how she cared for them. I want only the best for her - EVER. And to know that tragedy struck her is something I've cried buckets about - as I know so many others have as well.

It's in these moments that it's hard for me to be still. I'm such a do-er. I want to go fix it and build that city! Because, let's be honest, sitting still would mean I have to think about it and know that there's nothing to fix. The pile of sorrow and disappointment is right there in front of me. So, that's what I've been doing... running around instead of being still. 

On Wednesday, Randi and I met to talk about the next chapter in our book and I'm not sure I even did a very good job of focusing on that. I tried. We discussed how we should see God in the every day moments of life. A great topic - and one I can relate to. Don't we all need to stop and count our blessings? (Cue the music. You know you'll be singing it all day. "Count your blessings. Count them one by one." You're welcome.)

So, now that it's quiet and rainy, - and now that I've probably shed all the tears I can for a while - I am going to count my blessings. I am going to share a couple moments this week where I was thankful and where I stood still.

The first was watching my girls get ready this morning. They were laughing and helping each other with their costumes. There were no arguments and no screaming about losing a sock or some shoes. It. Was. Glorious. I couldn't even believe how smoothly this Halloween costume morning went. It's one for the record books, people. I'm not even kidding. It could potentially never happen again, so I'm using it as a thankful moment! 

The other one was even smaller. Gracey was tasked with cleaning her room. If you needed to picture what that might look like, I'd suggest you tune in to an episode of Hoarders.  After a couple hours of what seemed like a small construction crew stomping around and moving things behind that closed door, she emerged with all her laundry. That's not the amazing part - although it's pretty amazing. It was when she took the laundry downstairs, sorted it herself and started her laundry that made my heart sing. That's right: SHE SORTED HER LAUNDRY.  *mic drop*

And as I'm writing this, trying to make sense of this weird week, I just realized something. Isn't life kind of like that laundry moment? 

"Fussy" - Isn't that just the truth?

We have a big pile of stuff that we just leave laying around. We run past it. We step on it. We hurdle over it. But more stuff gets piled on top of it. The good, the bad, the heartbreaking... It's all in there. Then one day we decide to stop and sort it out.

Right then, when we sort it out, I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that God smiles at us. Not because sorting means fixing. Or because sorting means perfection. But because sorting means we are giving that stuff the attention it needs. He's the proud parent, smiling because His disorganized kid stopped long enough to sort the laundry.

I'll take it. That's my bench for this week. It's a sad, disorganized bench right now...piled with the stuff of the week. And that's perfectly fine. Because I stopped to sort it out. 

I hope you found a bench this week. And, yes, you can still come sit on mine. Just move that stuff over, would ya?