This is to my Father's glory, that you bear much fruit, showing yourselves
to be my disciples. John 15:8

Hitting the Wall

>> Thursday, May 29, 2008

In my life before kids, I was a dental assistant. As many of you already know from the frustration of trying to schedule appointments, dentists (in general) don't work 5 days a week. There are some in group practices who have all 5 days covered between the docs, but overall, dentists work 3-4 days a week. That means that the first few years of my married life, I only worked 3-4 days a week. In fact, for a big part of it, I worked Monday-Wednesday, 6:30-4:30. (As I look back at that schedule, I honestly don't know what I did with all my time. I was rolling in time.) Every so often, due to various reasons, we would have to work a Thursday. And I would mention it as a prayer request at my Tuesday night small group. Seriously. You can imagine the kind of eye-rolling that received. All of my 9-5, M-F friends would make sure and let me know just how sorry for me they were. Thinking about it now, I deserved a good smack. Good thing I have nice friends.

Anyway....
The point was, though, that anything can be tough if it's outside of your "norm". If you're not used to it, it can be rough. If you look back on those hours I listed, I had to be AT work by 6:30. Most of my 9-5 friends were probably rolling out of bed sometime after that. But I was used to it. They weren't. If they had requested I pray for them when they had an early morning meeting requiring them to be up by, say, 6:00, I could have rolled my eyes at them. You get my point. It's all about what you're used to.

I'm used to my husband working late. It's par for the course at his job. They have a system where everyone is required to stay late one night a week, and Mark's night is Wednesday. This usually gets him home around 10:00. I'm even used to him working more than one late night in a row. It happens. I don't like it, but it happens. What I'm not used to is him working until 11:00 for 3 days in a row. My kids haven't seen their father since Monday and I have seen him only to say "Oh, good, you're home....I can go to bed now." My kids are working my last nerve and I am working theirs.

I think about all the women (and men) whose husbands (or wives) are serving our country overseas, causing them to be gone for months on end, and I feel silly complaining. I think about them women (and men) whose spouses have passed away, meaning they will never come home, and I feel horrible for complaining. But it's all about what you're used to. I'm not used to this. So I've hit a wall. My sink is full of dishes and the toys are all over the floor. There's laundry in the basket that should have been folded yesterday. My kids just had string cheese and hot dogs for dinner because it required no effort, and now they are watching "Blue's Clues" while I throw myself a pity party on this blog.

I've said this before and I'll say it again. My life is good. I know my life is good, but just because it's good doesn't mean it's always easy.

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