Manna From Mayhem || The Wall

You may or may not have noticed my blog absence over the last six weeks…all one of you who read my blog (thanks, Daddy!). Truth is I’ve had a Manna post in mind for that entire six week chasm and great intentions of writing it. Every week it was on my list, and every week it got smothered by other priorities. But, my inability to make headway on my to-do’s plays oh-so-well into the palm of this little post. So, you forget that I abandoned my post for a while, and I’ll forget that you didn’t call/email/telegraph/morse code me begging me to fill you up with Muddy Feet goodness. I am a little bitter, by the way.

I’m a busy girl. Me and you both, right? Between a full time job, driving an hour each day to reach said job, ensuring my husband and children eat more than corn dogs and mac & cheese each day, running Muddy Feet, keeping my house from being featured on Hoarders, and bathing every third day, I am in constant motion. All those balls in the air are a devil to keep churning. And every now and again, I hit The Wall. You know the one. Runners know it as the drop in energy they experience when they’ve taxed their body past its desired limitations. It literally feels as if they’ve run smack into a wall, and their body does not wish to keep going. To finish the race, they must push through this harsh and painful experience. To put one foot in front of the other is excruciating, yet they must do it over and over and over. Muscles are screaming, lungs are begging for more oxygen, brain neurons are firing messages yelling “For the love of all things sane, please STOP!”

Oh, I wish my Wall was a physical one resulting from exercising myself into a toned, fit oblivion. But, that’s not the wall to which I am referring. I’m thinking of juggling so much and running so fast until this brick wall rises out of nowhere and lays me down like a Sugar Ray Leonard right hook. My juggling balls are all nicely rotating, each patiently waiting its turn to be thrust back into the circle while I deftly maneuver them in perfect form…until I hit The Wall. I’m left dazed and confused and usually angry.

The Wall is brutal. It takes me from happy, loving mother; dedicated, adoring wife; industrious, dependable employee; and motivated, innovative business owner to a grumpy, overwhelmed, disappointed, and unpleasant me. Tasks I complete every day become burdensome. My children’s incessant questions and constant monologue of “Mama, mama, mama” pave a direct line to my last nerve. Nothing outside my skin has changed. My family’s needs haven’t drastically increased or my workload doubled. It’s only within my soul that the storm is raging and the upheaval has occurred. The Wall and I play this game over and over. Round and round we go. I feel like the kids on that crazy Wonka boat. The ride is not fun anymore but I can’t get off.

But, why? Why can’t I have a servant’s heart and be a master juggler and be happy about it? Because I put my trust and joy in something other than God. I pile up all these unimportant tasks and let the weight of the world disrupt my faith. I forget this little journey is not about me. It takes me a few days (ahem, weeks) to refocus and remember what truly matters. No one outside my brain cares if I stick a few balls in my pocket and juggle a little slower. No one cares if I kick a few balls under the couch to hide with the dust bunnies. And when I finally remember that God is patiently waiting for me to hand it all to Him, The Wall meets its match and shamefully crumbles.

Next time The Wall hijacks my path, I hope it won’t take me quite as long to call on my Father to help me up. But, I’m hardheaded. I’ll likely beat my head against The Wall awhile before hearing God’s calm…again. So, if you see me with a goose egg on my temple or bruise on my cheek, just know I’m fighting The Wall and remind me God is a much better fighter than I.

How do you fight The Wall in your life? I’d love to hear how you calm the seas and find Peace in the midst of the craziness.

When I said “My foot is slipping,” your love, O Lord, supported me. When anxiety was great within me, your consolation brought joy to my soul. – Psalm 94: 18-19

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