There is Nothing to Wear!
This morning, Red got up and I sent him and his sister to get dressed.
He requested pancakes, so I got busy on that. I was a little short on the Bisquick, so I was digging for some self-rising flour to make up the extra.
I was assessing the amount of oil I might need to add to make up for the shortage when I heard Red stomp to the kitchen disgustedly yelling, uncharacteristically: “AGH! I have NOTHING to wear! None of my clothes are in there! There is NOTHING to wear! Mom, there is NOTHING in here that matches.”
I said, “Son, that is impossible. I just washed everything you own this weekend. You’ve had clothes to wear all summer. What’s wrong?”
“There is nothing in there!” he cried, adding some tears and reducing himself to a heap on the floor.
This is not my child who is the first out of bed, and usually the first to get dressed.
I said, “We’ll go check on it together, okay? Sister, see if you can pull down the top box of his shirts where he can see and see if that helps.”
She tried, bless her heart, but I could hear a small ruckus beginning, so I dropped by pancake ordeal and went in myself.
I soon realized the problem. Last year, I sorted all his clothes for him by things that went together. This year, in the new system, all his shorts are in one container, and his shirts in another. Though there are TONS of clothes, he could not manipulate the sorting and matching. So…we pulled EVERYTHING out and began pairing things quickly. I put them together in a new way for him, as a smile began to wash over his face. “Okay, so…can you find something you like now? Better?”
He kept working on the leftover things while I finished pancakes.
I just got home and had to rearrange some things where he could now reach them better as well.
I shared with my oldest son, as I will now share with my readers, that my Mom last week was told of a position in Iraq that might suit her, working at the same base as Pop. Let me just tell you, managing “going back to school”, losing my kids, and the prospect of losing my mom in the same week was quite the act of strength and dignity. It is the Lord Jesus I serve, and none other, or that week would not have flown. I basically had to put it on the back burner until I had all the kids settled and tended to on their big week.
We don’t know yet if they will hire her, but her resume has been sent in.
Yesterday in worship, the first song, it was mom and I only in my pew, worshiping together. The Hub was at work, kids in children’s church. When we got to “from shore to shore” in the song…that was the last straw.
By greeting time, I lost it. I saw my SIL, and collapsed on her, not to let go. I said, “I just don’t think I can do this.”
She ever so eloquently said, “Yeah, you can. Let me get you out of here.”
Can I just say that I like those two sentences paired together. Not, “Yeah, you can. Stop sobbing on me.” or “Yeah, you can, toughen up.” or “Yeah, you can, now let’s get back to worship.” Nope, none of that. “Yeah, you can…let’s get you out of here for a minute.”
We prayed, and she reminded me of all the things I knew, and I straightened up to teach my first new Sunday School class of the season with kid’s expectantly waiting on a teacher to wow then with fun and cheer.
I even had the opportunity at the end of the service to pray for my mom at the altar. But, by then, I was ready.
Anyway, I woke to another day feeling weighted by this thing way too big for me to even begin to process in any lucid way. And I walked back in to all the piles needing to be put together understandably for my Red, and I remembered a verse from The Message I read once a long time ago that I liked. I just sat down to look it up. It says,
“God, pick up the pieces. Put me back together again. You are my praise!”
I know that when I feel squeamish, like Red, and in those times when I am on a heap in the floor insisting nothing goes together, even getting tearful at times, not seeing it all…God is telling me, “But, that can’t be, I have it all ready for you! I know it’s all there.” I know He sends other to help me, and that even He himself, My Helper, comes to show me how it all fits together. And I know, that I too, in those moments, will feel a smile wash over me and joy return. Countless times a day.