It’s Plank Pullin’ time! The one day a week that we strongly resolve to ignore the multitude of specks and sawdust around us and pull one bona fide plank from our own eye. Matthew 7:3-5 style.
As I brought Elijah into preschool this morning, I heard the wailing from the front gate. I didn't know who or why, but I knew what-someone was not happy. I brought Elijah in, he proceeded to sit down at a table with his friends, and seemed unfazed by the commotion. The teachers looked at me, and said "Someone's having a rough morning." I smiled, and said "I understand. Sometimes I wish I could do the same thing." It had been one of those mornings, which has slowly become one of those weeks. I don't want it to unravel further, and become one of those months. Yet its clear that I'm slowly coming undone. I'm working on being at peace with that-its a struggle. Often times I tell the boys its okay when things go awry, such is life. Yet when Murphy has knocked at the door before, and I've taken steps to ensure his presence is far from welcome, and still I see his shadow lurking, it gives me pause. Life will cantor on, I may do the two step shuffle right now, instead of my samba or mambo. Yet, I think of the elderly frail woman I saw in Target the other day. Bent over, her husband (who looked just as frail and elderly as her) with his arm draped around her, she made her way from one side of the store to the other. Their few selections in their basket, pushing it together, one small step at a time. This may have been the one outing they took together all day. In the grand scheme of life, what's going on with life now is minute. I need to remember that, realize its okay to let it all out, because eventually I do come back. I will have battle scars, but those scars are signs of a survivor, not a victim.