Balancing acts are a delicate matter. Too much one way or too much the other, and everything goes bad. I've never been very good at balance. I either love something or I hate it. I'm either 100% committed, or I'm over it. I know what I want, and I'm determined to get it. My mother affectionately called me her strong-willed child. Sometimes thats a good thing. Other times it makes people want to run for cover. I think last week fell into the latter category.
I'm not very good at resting, waiting, or delegating. If I have something on my list, I want it done and checked off, effective immediately. Sometimes Darren and I argue, because when I ask him to do something, and he responds, "Sure, in a minute..." that translates to the same thing as "no" to me. I use the ATM at the bank to make deposits, because I don't like waiting for the teller to do it. That might make me sound extremely difficult, but allow me to defend myself a little bit.
When you give me a task, it will be completed. And probably in record time. I set imaginary deadlines for myself before the actual deadline, giving me a built-in cushion just in case something goes wrong. For example, I aced my midterm last week while Brooklyn was in the hospital, because I wrote it three weeks before that, edited it for a week, and then turned it in a week early. Just in case my kid was hospitalized again. Because you just never know what might happen. So sometimes being a bit overaggressive can be a good thing.
It all depends on the situation.
I would not want to be my child's doctor though.
I think the word patient is fitting, because when you are in a hospital, it requires a great deal of patience to be a patient. Or the mother of a patient. Or the doctor dealing with the mother of the patient. When labs are ordered, I want to know the results. When they say they are coming in to take out a feeding tube, and two hours later its still in there, I get a little stressed. When the doctor comes in and says the team is making rounds in 30 minutes and so I hold off on taking a shower, and then they don't appear until 132 minutes later... it doesn't sit well. And after 12 days in the hospital in the past month, I start to get a little bit mental.
And I might possibly have been a little less than gracious once or twice. Or daily.
I've been learning, or trying to learn, to wait. When I try to control things and manipulate things and understand things... it gets draining. And stressful. And I get exhausted. And edgy. I don't really think thats what God has in mind. I was reading yesterday in Isaiah 40:28-31, "Have you known? Have you heard? The everlasting God, the Lord, the Creator of the ends of the earth, doesn't faint or grow weary. There is no searching His understanding. He gives power to the faint and to them who have no might He increases strength...But they that wait on the Lord will renew their strength. They will mount up with wings as eagles. They will run and not grow weary, and they will walk and not faint."
That sounds a whole lot better than me trying to take everything into my own hands and then get stressed out when it doesn't go like how I want it to. And I'd even wager that the people around me might find me slightly more tolerable.
I got off balance. I tried so hard to be an advocate for my baby that I lost sight of waiting, patience, character development, and the God who is in control of everything. Deep breaths. I'm setting my eyes on Jesus... and not on my crazy circumstances. I think I'll be a lot calmer this way. You're welcome.
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