There is nothing I want to do. That’s the problem. I’ve unknowingly become a slave to hankering, and without sunshine, a burst of energy, or a strike of inspiration, I’m left lethargic and unmotivated. I have a hankering to do nothing.
I don’t want to write and I don’t want to do laundry. And I most certainly don’t want to listen to my children bicker which is exactly what they are doing while I lie on the couch with my eyes closed.
Get up. Do something.
I’m getting should on. The shoulds come hard but they beat down, don’t lift up, and so I’m just dead weight, still on the couch, heavier than ever.
“Please stop arguing and just clean up the loft.”
I escape, like an addict, to the office. Flip open the laptop. I know full well I am escaping but I do it anyway. The wheel spins, I wait, the screen brightens and I feel the false hope rising. Will something happen here that lifts me from this dullness? That can somehow wake me up? I know what I’m looking for and know I shouldn’t but do it anyway. Some praise or affirmation. Something stimulating. Something besides this long day of wiping crumbs and correcting tones and calming ridiculous overreactions …
And repeating, repeating, repeating.
We head down for a snack, and there I look again. The computer offered no solace, just a feed full of faces laughing longer and harder and loving life more than I, apparently.
I open the cupboard and try again.
Anything here?
But I’m still full from breakfast and there’s no pleasure in food when the senses aren’t heightened by hunger.
I’m just not hungry for anything.
We head outside. I can almost always count on air and earth to jostle me to life. It’s cold and wet, but I kneel in the dirt and see the dozens of green shoots poking brave heads above the dark soil. Peas. Spinach. Radishes. It’s so cold. Yesterday it hailed. But they’re undaunted, and I’m sure it must be boring for them, to grow so slowly?
But they keep growing. And I suddenly have a strange compassion for them. Out there, cold and bored to death and still growing. I’m suddenly overwhelmed with gratitude that they haven’t altogether quit, haven’t packed up and gone home. I’m overcome with a desire to weed, for them. It’s personal. It’s not duty. I want them to live. They’re so darned faithful out there, braving the hail, holding up their tiny 1/2″ necks. I pull weeds carefully and smooth the soil around each tiny shoot. Gently. Like dabbing the milk from a baby’s chin. It’s ridiculous but I’m so grateful for those plants.
And as I’m dabbing their dirty earthen chins, she pulls up. My forever friend. And how’d she know I’d love a Dutch Brothers’, right now, at this exact moment? And how’d she know to say, “Of course!” when the barista asked if I’d like whip?
She hands me the drink, “Just thought you might like this.” My hands are covered in dirt and I hold the cup close and feel its warmth. Her four kids are lively in the back of the minivan and she ignores them and smiles at me and I just look up at her face and all the weight is gone. I’m beaming ridiculously because one person did something ridiculous for me. And I’m suddenly just so glad that she does what she does, day in and day out, raising those kids and cleaning that house and driving that minivan and being my friend and saying yes to whipped cream every now and then.
It hails on her too; I know that.
“I haven’t even brushed my teeth today,” I tell her, and I don’t know why I say it but it says everything. And she smiles and I’m known and loved and accepted all at once.
She says goodbye and the kids wave and we head inside, now hungry. Apples crunch sweet and grilled cheese oozes salty and the hummus is cold and creamy. And though it’s already afternoon I’m grateful to have finally woken up. There’s still a lot of glorious day ahead.
{In case you have these days … Thanks for reading.
18 thoughts on “For the days when you can't wake up”
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We have lived by the belief in our home that it is never too late to start your day over. Some of my most cherished memories of raising young children are from being asked by my 7 year old as she lay in bed after a tear-filled ending to a day if we can start the day over. The day ahead is glorious, indeed – no matter when we chose to begin the day.
Amen, John Woolley! (And it’s a joy to hear from you. Was just thinking of you and Karen the other day and hoping to cross paths. Blessings, friend!)
Oh thank you! You’ve done my heart good!
Loved this post and thanks for linking my blog in there! And I have to say, coffee does make a day brighter 🙂 It’s like a sweet treat from the Lord.
Thank you for your post, your words are encouraging. I’ve known days like these. 🙂
Kari, thank you for this honesty. My moments like this want to hide in shame, making me feel isolated and withdrawn from other moms because I fool myself into thinking they have it all together. You remind me to forgive my humanity and keep going.
I’m sorry to hear you have these days, Kari, but a bit relieved to hear I’m not alone. 🙂 I miss you, friend and if I knew where you’re new house is I’d love to stop by! 😉
Isn’t it wonderful to have great friends especially the ones so special as these that know you….really know you and follows God’s lead to brighten your day up 😉
Blessings on you~
Sarah
As always I appreciate your honesty Kari! I understand those type of days quite well. It helps to know I’m not alone!
Chelsea
“There’s still a lot of glorious day ahead” I love this Kari! I am going to put it up in the house. Some days it is never too early to start the day over. Refreshing!
Thanks for your honesty and for sharing your heart. For some reason, as women, we think everyone else has it “all together.” This has been one of those kind of weeks for me. Thankful that tomorrow is Friday!!!!
Blessings to you.
Something is different in this post. Not that I am not drawn to your words and posts each time, but this was different…and I loved it <3
I’m keeping this one forever & ever. Your writing is insanely perfect & you transform the mundane into something so completely & wonderfully sacred. It all points to a God that is so so so BIG, yet so intimate.
Kari,
Thanks for writing this. When I got to the last part and you spoke of being accepted it spurred me to write the following in my journal and I put it up here humbly hoping it may help others like it helped me.
Ultimately, at the most bottom of bottom lines, we all seek full, total and unconditional acceptance without reservation from one whom we respect. Without that acceptance we become mere actors putting on a good face for the world to see while all the time dying inside, one cell at a time.
If we were perfect then we could demand acceptance, but being imperfect we feel compelled to petition for it from others. When we find a candidate who we feel we can trust, we approach cautiously until we are assured we won’t be hurt unnecessarily and then we embrace them deeply and fully.
If a man or woman never finds that one person then they become callous, cynical, unmotivated, hopeless and slowly retreat from the world and themselves. Their life becomes a slow funeral march to their own death.
Ephesians declares that we are lovely and acceptable before God in Christ. This acceptance is unconditional and given without our petitioning for it. God accepts us exactly as we are at each and every moment without regard to our worthiness. This is the absolute truth we have to start at. He freely lavishes us with His acceptance unconditionally and without any reservation – He leaps at the chance! Like the forgiving father He runs to prepare a king’s supper for us and He doesn’t stop to listen to the protests of our unworthiness or our excuses. Rather than begging for His acceptance we have to fully accept His acceptance without reservation and without condition. We put no condition on ourselves and we put no conditions on Him. He accepts us and He wants us to accept that truth deep down in the absolute core of our being.
Happy is the man or woman who embraces God’s acceptance humbly and also finds the one person (and two, or perhaps, three!) with whom he or she can walk in full honesty and openness together with Him.
Thank you! Thank you! Your honesty is refreshing and I am ever so blessed by coming across your blog! I also have been blessed by Our Lord in His faithfulness to you!!! I get to sing isn’t He good, while I relate many days to the can’t wake up days with you. Looking forward to reading more from your blog :).
Blessings, Dear one,
Dee
Yes. I have these days..and this was so encouraging I live how the friend shows up trust in time. Such a kiss from God. Same has happend to me so many times.
Blessings
Can’t believe no one commented on this before! Can’t believe I didn’t comment on this before–coulda’ written this one myself. Today. Most any day! When you wrote this I was packing frantically for another overseas move… now feeling stuck and unmotivated and wishing I could move back again for some kind of inspiration… was led to this post by your one from today on craving novelty. Yup, waving my ENFP hand in the air–what’s NEW?! But needing renewing, and knowing it underneath it all. Just how in the heck to find that amidst these mundane days of surviving? Would love to know a friend like your friend with the coffee! Thanks for sharing, and so vulnerably. Blessings from across the ocean!