Bathroom Floors Are Hard Places to Learn Lessons

I don’t know where this is but I want to be there. Now. I don’t want to have to get in a car or on a plane. I want to wiggle my nose like Samantha from Bewitched. I want to be walking on that road in front of those trees with that mist swirling around me while I look at those mountains.

Sigh.

I’m on my couch nursing an aching back. I fell in my bathroom this morning. Hard. I got out of the shower and was racing to get ready and my feet slid right from under me. There was grabbing and reaching and a guttural yell. I’m okay; it actually hurt my pride more than my body; but tears. So many tears fell fast.

I had already had a full morning. I’m supposed to meet my husband in the city this afternoon. We are going to a business dinner together. It’s for him. My business rarely takes me out of our bubble of Kingwood. I’m supposed to get dressed up though and drive to the city. It’s a big deal. And there I was laying on the bathroom floor.

I was hurrying because I had been a poor judge of time. I had tried to pack the kids, pack the lunches, type up instructions for Grandpa (who is managing the kids and the carpool and the homework and all the things for me tonight), and go rescue a friend who had a dead battery and needed to get her girl to school. All good things. All things I wanted or needed to do. I just didn’t judge the time well. I needed to be at work. I needed a shower. I was moving too fast. And then I wasn’t moving. I was laying on my bathroom floor.

That’s when I heard God say,”You think you’re ready to slow down now?”

I’ve gone and done it again. I have put too much on my plate. I had space so I started adding things.

Just a little here.

And there.

And I can squeeze this in.

And that.

And then it all piled up and I didn’t know what to do with it.

But I was pretty sure I could figure it out. My husband is under a lot of stress right now. My kids are overwhelmed with homework and, I guess, just normal pre-pubescent angst right now. And I thought that seemed like a good time to put on my cape and pretend to be Wonder Woman.

Except I’m not Wonder Woman. I love her and her star-spangled britches but I am not her.

My laundry is piled high.

My dishes are out of control.

I haven’t meal planned or grocery shopped this week so I have nothing to feed anyone.

And I am now on the couch nursing my aching body and my bruised pride.

So I pray.

God, show me what to knock off my plate. Show me where to offer myself grace. Help me to care for my family. Help me to be truthful.

I’m the lady who preaches simplicity. I’m the lady who talks about organization and prioritizing. I’m the one who encourages others to say “NO” as a complete sentence. I’m the one who waves the flag of “less is more.”

I’m the one who fell in the bathroom today because I forgot all those things. And now I’m the one who is craving retreat.

I probably won’t gain that nose wiggle power any time soon and I’m too busy to jump on a plane to fly off to an unknown destination. I will slow down though. I will back up and ask God to show me his path before racing down the one I think looks best. I will breathe. And right now, I will take an ibuprofen because bathroom floors are hard.