Perfectly Chaotic

• August 31, 2016
• Journey

So, here’s my challenge. To slow the crazy train down. To slow my life down. To simplify. Why? Because I love insanity. I love busy. I love the thrill of a deadline. I sit in silence and my mind booms with ideas of how to make things bigger and better. I love a job well done. It’s rewarding. And as soon as it’s over I immediately think of how to make it even better the next time around. I’m a perfectionist at heart. I’ll devote massive amounts of time and energy to accomplishing things for others. I love it. I love the thrill of a challenge. I’m addicted to loading the calendar- thinking my kids need one more activity or their development will be stunted- Thinking I need to do one more thing to somehow feel validated in life because just being a mom is not enough for my type A, get it all done, self. Somewhere in my soul I apparently feel this validation when others are amazed at how many things I can juggle in a day. These are things I’m learning about myself. I’m a work horse. I’ll just keep on going, taking on as many commitments as possible and doing all that’s needed to excel at every single one of them. Somehow in the midst of it all, who ends up suffering are me and my closest friends and family. The ones that matter most. They’re supposed to love me no matter what, right? They need to understand that I have expectations. No one else can do this like I can. It won’t be a success. And because it is a success, clearly God is calling me to do it or it would be a failure…right? 

Overachieving is in my DNA. My parents always taught us to do our very best. They lived this. Everything they worked on, I could see their devotion. I could see them doing their best. Ventures were successful. Ministries thrived. And we still sat down for lunch and dinner every day. It seemed they were able to juggle it all. 

But, what I missed is that they weren’t trying to do all we think we “need” to do now. If I really look closely, there was balance most of the time. We weren’t driving to three different sports every day, they weren’t trying to be in my classroom every other day with perfectly prepared snacks in the shape of a rhinoceros. There wasn’t the expectation of spending two hours a day in the gym to achieve a certain goal. We weren’t expected to be educational prodigies who needed every extra curricular activity available. They enlisted help for the things they needed help with. All those little steps allowed for balance. 

Balance. That’s what’s missing in my life. 

In July of this year, we left town for a month. A whole month. We stayed with my parents in Phoenix. Days were filled to the brim with family activities and taking 8 to 12 children on numerous outings. No expectations or deadlines. Nothing that needed attention. Just the day- whatever we chose to do on that day. Physically exhausting for sure (most of those 12 kids are 5 and under), but my heart was full. Work hard and play hard. 

At first I missed my normal crazy. I felt lazy. I was squirmy. It was uncomfortable to not have anything pressing to accomplish. 

But then, I settled in to this way of living. It was calming to my soul. 

When I returned home, I almost resented everything I had committed myself to. The thought of all the activities starting back up made my heart heavy. That’s not how I wanted to live. I didn’t want to be running my children all over town every day. I didn’t want to forgo sleep in order to accomplish things after my children had gone to bed. (Because, of course I wouldn’t give up my time with them to do things outside of mothering, right?) So, we race them to bed because mommy has a full schedule and the later you are up, the later I have to stay up working on my self-imposed deadlines. My husband jokes about me falling asleep during the opening credits of every movie we tried to watch. 

Why couldn’t I be happy with a small life? Why couldn’t I be happy with silence? Why did I have this enormous need to juggle all these commitments? 

I mean, kids need to be in a sport year round or they’ll be weird, right? There’s ballet, piano, karate, a second language, art, gymnastics, play dates, women’s groups, Bible study, church functions, meetings. And the list goes on. It’s no wonder I don’t have time to think straight. 

One more cup of coffee. I can do this. 

But, really, is this what I want for my life? Is this what I want for my family? Days that fly by where we crash on the couch exhausted at the end of the day after eating whatever we could find for dinner? Being crabby because children want to talk endlessly at bed time? I’m tired. I still have 27 things left on my to do list. The longer they talk, the longer I have to stay awake. Had I considered they did this because I probably hadn’t talked to them enough all day and this was their chance to have my full attention? 

This addiction to efficiency. This need for approval from others. This innate desire to be the best at every little thing I put my hands on or commit to doing. Why? What’s the purpose? This complete inability to say NO to anything. People are used to me saying YES to everything. They know they can count on me. I’ll get it done. It’s how I roll. Failure isn’t an option. 

One more task. One more commitment. One more cup of coffee. 

Honestly, my addiction made me sad. It took stepping away from it all to realize the path I was on. 

The years are too short. My kids are growing up too fast. What’s the legacy I want to leave behind?

I decided it was time to deal with myself. To deal with my inability to stop. My discomfort with silence. My need to fill every minute of every day with some task. 

I thought about how from the moment I get up until I fall in bed at night, I didn’t sit. I stood or walked all day. Aside from sitting in the car to drive to commitments and obligations, there was no sitting. I found that sitting led to sleepiness, and, there’s too much to do to be sleepy. 

Clearly, God was trying to tell me something, but unless He found a spot in my overcrowded calendar, He was going to have to wait. 

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