I woke up exhausted. The jetlag of daylight savings hit me hard. I opened the freezer to grab some ice to make myself some ice tea. The ice tray had water in it. I touched the frozen veggies next to the tray.... soft... face palm. It's only 6:45.
I packed lunches, got kids out the door, called the service line for the fridge. It's only a year and a half old. They walk me through troubleshooting. I realize the fridge is also warming up.
So grateful we have a back up fridge, I clean out drinks and start carting food from the main fridge to our back unit. Mentally planning our new long list of items to cook this week. At least I don't have to try to figure out what to make for dinner.
While I was cleaning out the fridge, I went to dump so stuff down the garbage disposal. Pressed the button. Nothing.... seriously?!
I continue cleaning, my energy lagging. Every ounce of me wants to sleep but there's a storm rolling in tonight and I'd rather deal with all this cleaning and rearranging without buckets of water pouring down. So I press on until it's time to pick up kids. More iced tea and Harry Potter audiobook while I do school pickups. Luckily, two kids have robotics after school so I just have the 3 Littles.
We come home and I set about getting dinner in the oven and continuing to clean out food areas as I shift and move things around.
Crash
"I'm an idiot"
"What happened Philip?"
"I broke the fish tank!"
What is with this day??
Luckily, he broke the fish tank we've been using to house Miles bugs, not the one full of water. Silver lining.
At this point, I'm realizing that today's blog post is going to be about brokenness. Broken appliances, broken glass, a broken body that is barely making it through the day.
I thought about the song I posted a few days ago. Thank you for sunshine. Thank you for rain.
I thought about how sad I was that this beautiful day was wasted on dealing with all the broken things and tomorrow it's going to rain.
Thank you for sunshine. Thank you for rain.
I turn on music and have a dance party with the littles. Zander dancing in a diaper. The smell of ribs and chicken legs wafting through the house. Miles running through with bugs to feed the chickens. Somehow the day managed not to be sour.
Dancing with gratitude was a wonderful prayer in the midst of nothing going right. The movement kept my heart moving the right way.
When I think about brokenness and faith, I tend not to think about "non-functioning" type of brokenness like my broken refrigerator. Somehow spiritual brokenness feels more poetic. But sometimes brokenness is life rearranging. A broken car, a broken washer, a broken body. Suddenly life shifts in a new direction and we're not following the originally scheduled program. We're dealing with unexpected life. Fixing a problem.
God is present in our brokenness. Not just the poetic brokenness, but the days that we flat out stop functioning. The days when life is rearranged because we don't work quite right. God is present even when our faith is broken, when we can't even figure out which direction we might start to look for God or when ẁe don't even want to.
For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.
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