These days, my life isn’t affected much by the weather, except that it often seems the temperature is inversely related to the number of times the Bean points to the window and asks to go “Ow-Side.”
Still, there’s something fun about the idea of snow days, don’t you think?
Lying awake from pregnancy insomnia in the wee hours of the morning, I think back to that early-morning feeling I always had growing up in Pennsylvania when there was a forecast of snow. We lived between two really busy roads (our backyard butted up against an interstate), and when I woke up in the morning after a snowfall, it would be quiet. On other mornings, the roads were never quiet. Just to make sure it wasn’t a fluke, that there wasn’t just a break in the flow of traffic, I’d lay in bed and wait, listening to the eerie silence, hoping to hear that grating of the snow plow. The sound of the plow–dull and thudding, rather than twangy and metallic–let me know if there was enough snow on the ground to warrant a two-hour delay or–gasp!–a day off of school.
Here in Kentucky, the road in front of our house is unimportant and rarely gets plowed. Now I use the neighbors’ snow-covered van as the indicator of school cancellation.
Today was one of those days. The neighbors’ van stayed covered in snow. School was cancelled.
Since we are still recovering from a nasty stomach virus this weekend, it feels appropriate to be huddled under a quilt and sipping hot tea. And my child is sleeping soundly, which is a blessing. About half an hour ago, I picked up my laptop to write a few blog posts that have been percolating over the last few weeks.
One was about the weather. I don’t feel like writing that post right now, so I’m not going to.
Another was about stomach viruses and how thrilled I am to have a child who loves to go to the nursery at church and pick up germs. And suck on the rim of trash cans. And drink from other kids’ sippy cups. I don’t feel like writing that post right now either.
Another was about this little gal and guy:
That is, the other post was about my family and how we make the long-distance thing work, even when it’s hard.
Now, granted, Kentucky and Pennsylvania aren’t that far away. But my brother and his family live in Saudi Arabia, and that adds another dimension to the difficult reality of keeping a close family close.
These little figurines are the awesome salt and pepper shakers they brought us from Saudi Arabia.
Stephen and Kelsie and the kids are in the US for a few weeks to catch up with family and friends, and they decided to drive to Kentucky this past weekend to see us. Nine hours in the car with a five year old and a two year old. To give us hugs. To give the Bean some time to play with her cousins she usually only sees on the computer. To give us some awesome souvenirs.
Not to catch a stomach virus. Which we had. All weekend.
So they stayed in a hotel, kept their distance, and then drove back to Pennsylvania after a short meal at Panera with us.
So that’s all the blog post I can conjure up at the moment about family and keeping in touch. It’s hard work and the timing is not always great. But we do it, and we make it a priority, because it’s important.
I’m learning something about priorities these days, mainly because all the time I’ve been tired and sick over the last six months has made it nearly impossible for me to do anything. Or that’s what it feels like.
I mean, I’m keeping a 20-month-old alive and clothed and fed and diapered, and I’m making a baby, which is something. Obviously. But it doesn’t feel productive.
So when I read about pregnancy and the idea of Sabbath being similar, it struck a chord with me:
Instead of doing everything that we think might be good and helpful in the world, we are forced to narrow our focus. In my limited time, I have to choose what to do. I have to ask, “What would God have me value most this day?” Sabbath rest and the rest of pregnancy teach us to believe that God is in control, that God can be trusted with the workings of our lives. In learning to give up some of the good things we want to do, we learn that even the things we are able to do are not necessary. They are a gift from God.
— Sarah Jobe, Creating with God, p. 36
I don’t feel “able to do” very much these days in the two or three hours my child is sleeping in the afternoons, so I need to prioritize. Sure, the laundry or dishes need to be done sometimes. Phones calls need to be made and e-mails need to be written. People need to be visited with. Showers need to be taken.
Sometimes all I’m able to do is rest and reflect. Sometimes all I’m able to do is pray and journal and read. Sometimes all I’m able to do is just be.
But you know what? There’s one thing I’ve realized just this afternoon that doesn’t need to be done or fretted about.
Blog posts at Texas Schmexas.
Not by me, not right now, not in this season.
So I’m taking a break, my friends. I might come back to it, or I might not. I might start up a blog in some other form at some other place in some other month or some other year. Or I might not.
Right now, though, I do know what I’m going to do. I’m going to go snuggle with my Bean, who began chatting in her crib a few minutes ago.