Lately I have been in a hurry and honestly I'm quite unsettled in my heart.
I've been on the run for over a month now.
I rush to visit my father in his nursing home every night.
I hustle to work extra hours in attempt to not use my vacation time to take my dad to his appointments.
I rush to fulfill my parental duties in order to show my daughter she still has a mom.
I give my wife a half ass version of who a spouse should be.
And as far as laundry or dishes? Forget it!
I just feel like there is not enough of me to go around.
I'm stretched way too thin.
And every night that I go to bed, I think to myself: "Thank God! I survived another day!"
Today as I was rushing home from work, it was snowing. It wasn't a huge amount of snow, but it fell fast, the roads were horrid and because I have been so rushed as of late, my tires were balder than Mr. Clean. I was on the highway when I tapped my breaks, a little to hard and it happened.
I lost control of the car.
My decline wasn't fast, but I could feel it.
Gently, I steered the car as it veered off the road, and there I sat.
For a minute I was pissed.
Did God honestly think I needed this?!
Did He not understand that I needed to get home?!
That I was hungry and wanted Chipotle?!
Did He not understand that my dogs had to pee?!
That I needed to drop my dad's laundry off to him?!
After I cursed God for a minute, I realized, I needed to slide off that highway.
I needed a reminder to slow down, and unless God physically put my car in a ditch, I was not going to stop on my own. After I got out of that ditch, I drove home.
I came home, fired up the washer and dryer, called my dad and explained I would be by with his laundry first thing in the morning, sat down to watch a Hallmark movie and write.
I needed downtime tonight.
I needed a reminder.
I need a different "game plan".
I need new tires.
Tomorrow is a new day.
I'm going to start it new and refreshed.