Much of life can feel like we’re chasing after it, reacting, running with outstretched arms in hopes of pulling it back to real time. Wait. Come baaaaaaack.
Kinda like watching a car accident in slow motion, it’s as though we know it’s coming, but aren’t sure how to respond to when it does happen. And how? Like, what do we say when life takes off like a runaway train?
I get it. In the last few weeks, there have been a myriad of reactionary-worthy circumstances over here.
Our car battery died. Ugh.
I dropped my phone in the toilet. I blame the tiny gnome that put it in my back pocket because I absolutely adore spending money on a new technical gadget. #lie
Our youngest got a random fever over the weekend. Hip hip lame!
Bryan and I had an awesome argument. Bleh.
I said goodbye to a grandma who can no longer care for herself and had to move out-of-state and it broke.my.heart.
My hairdresser (who I’ve had since we got married) decided to move to Nashville. While I’m ecstatic for her, Jesus, You can come back now.
Did I mention we had a rat invasion in our garage? Ew!
Sprinkled among real life detours, invites our choice in how to respond. Or better yet, how to step in front of it before it happens (again) and to pray for wisdom, prepare our kids, and clarify with our spouses.
While none of us are in control of the unknown, we can step back to evaluate those sure-fire moments that undoubtedly will occur, be a bit more unshaken, and confidently step in front of them for the future.
We have two little ones who watch how we react when emotions are high, when rats invade our garage, when sickness overtakes. If we come unglued in these moments, what will the big ones bring?
So, Bry and I are on board, our toes are next to one another, our hands held, laughing as we go and asking, God, please offer Your insight as we dive and respond to everyday surprises.
This changes our response. When we choose to step in front of life and talk about how we’ll react before it happens, we’re not as panicky and wide-eyed (although I may be saying choice words internally).
When Bry and I argue, we get to revisit the conversation and ask how to better hear the other when the next disagreement comes up. If we don’t, we’ll continue playing out the same lame habits.
When Tanner comes home from school, asking, Mom, what does fock mean?, I’ll honestly redirect him to the real word and further share the other words he will hear at school, what they mean, and why they are so uncreative to use. Let’s revisit stoked. Shall we, bud?
Instead of being paralyzed by the fall schedule, we can stand back and ask ourselves where we can, want to, and have margin to be involved, and then find freedom and confidence in recognizing our family simply can’t do it all. It’s amazing how grace-full others are with boundaries. Bryan is good for me in this way when I want to have coffee with every person I adore and he gently points to the calendar and says, “Bek, you could be out for two months straight. It’s just not doable or healthy.” But gosh, I just love time with people. Fine.
Whether it’s cursing at school, questions about babies, doubts about Jesus, we are choosing to step in front of them and hold each question, each detour, with tender care and honesty.
And wine. Wine always helps.