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Monday, July 27, 2009

an essay on heat


Last year in my women's group we did the study, "How People Change". During that time, I learned to identify the trials in my life (and sometimes the blessing-trials) as "heat". In a nutshell, my heart started to get the idea that heat could cause grow or it could shrivel me, quickly.

These past few days in our new house have been glorious and, HOT. At New Beginnings, we had two ac window units that did a lot of cooling and I don't think I realized till we moved in just how helpful they were. It's hot hot hot in our house. It was 88 when we woke up this morning. All our kids are sleeping in the nude, with fans blowing directly into their individual sleeping apparatuses. (*sidenote for readers not from the northwest: this area of the country has decided that air conditioning is unnecessary and barely any houses have it, that's not a joke*)

So besides unpacking & trying to get our bearings, we're also coping with this stifling heat. Learning which windows to open and where to strategically place the fans. But it feels too hot to do _________. It feels way too hot to workout - when will you ever stop sweating?! It feels too hot cuddle (Elias doesn't agree, he still wants to cuddle all day). Too hot to play inside or outside, too hot to go on a walk, too hot to try and keep three kids happy.

On top of unpacking and keeping our cool, the day we moved in - Nick's car sort of broke down. What? We thought it was this, then thought it was that... finally realized it was the starter and though Nick and Shawn tried for hours to fix it last night, they just couldn't get the old starter off to put the new one on. And then, our next-door-neighbor-mechanic comes to the rescue. While I was feeding B tonight, Nick ran next door to ask for his advice and then a few minutes later... out he comes in a full body mechanic suit and climbs under our 4runner and pops the starter off in about two seconds flat. In the 600 degree heat. Not a believer, not our lifelong friend, but it wasn't too hot for him to serve us in such a nice way.

So, back to the heat/trials/blessings.
I broke down with my accountability 'sisters' last week and told them, I am a mom to my three favorite people in the world. I am a wife to my favorite man in the whole world. I consider this a high, high, high calling - a worthy one, one that I have to do right the first time.
But, it's soooooo hot. It's such a challenge.
I guess when I had two kids I didn't realize that there was still a little bit of a breeze blowing.
So this is my prayer, my answer to the Lord tonight and hopefully tomorrow.
(it only took seeing my burly-sevenfoottall-mechanic-new-neighbor dressed in a full body suit)

It is hot, but it's not too hot to serve, to love,
to leave it all on the hardwood floor
with Glory when I'm correcting her.
It's hot but it's not too hot to cuddle Elias when our sweat is forming a puddle
on the leather sofa, not too hot to pray for them/pray with them,
not too hot to smile at them while I'm making their breakfast.
Not too hot to baby talk Benjamin at five in the morning.
Not too hot to tell my husband that I love him. And to love him by the things I tell him.
It's really stinking hot, but it's not too hot.

5 comments:

kellycowan said...

nice analogy woman. my favorite post in a while. on a lighter note, i'd like to know exactly what word was the filler to that blankety blank ;)

Nick said...

Great blog wife. Love it...but not as much as I love you.

Mere said...

great post... love you!

jasonbradley said...

I like this blog, and I really love this photo. It is very postmodern. I think because the yard is so big and the pool so small, and because Glory has such an interesting look on her face, and Nick seems so far away from the pool. It reminds me of photos like these from an art blog I read:

http://www.20x200.com/art/2008/12/untitled-blue-lagoon-reykjavik-iceland.html

or:

http://www.20x200.com/art/2008/06/saugnac-et-muret-1-27122005-1127.html

or:

http://www.20x200.com/art/2008/01/panda.html

Great stuff.

inthemiddleoflife said...

love. it.
can't top what the Cowans said.
love you! momma