Something makes finally taking down your Christmas tree feel like something akin to ripping off a band aid very quick. If you’re anything like, well, the rest of the general population, you dread the thought of having to take your tree down. This is an annual tradition of mine that I just loathe. I hate the thought of the tree, as it is beginning to dry out, prickling me all over my arms and face as I reach in to try to remove ornaments. I hate how each year, I have to fight and somehow untangle the lights that are wrapped around the tree with the strands weaving into one another. Say, what is it with Christmas lights anyway? It’s almost like they’re SUPPOSED to be tangled. Kind of like how traffic lights are supposed to turn red when you’re running late or an attic is supposed to smell like moth balls. I guess that is just the way that it is.
I’m hoping that this week will be the beginning of me taking back my house. Sleep depravation has slowed me down considerably the last month or so, and the bare minimum is all that I seem to be able to muster up the energy or patience to do. I’m not being hard on myself, I know I shouldn’t fret about it much when I get sleep in 1-3 hour increments at best. It’s just that humans can sometimes tend to make themselves comfortable and content, even in troublesome circumstances. I’ve heard a saying about two farmers. There is a considerable drought going on, and while both farmers are feeling the effects, only one of them went out to prepare his fields to receive the rains while the other one lamented about their current station.
I want to be a farmer that prepares for the rains this year. Even when the drought is upon me, the tides have turned and things look bleak, I want to be someone who in the meantime trusts in God, keeps her pace and looks forward to being renewed again when the time comes. So while Clara may still have a long journey ahead of her as she learns to start being a big girl by eating her solid foods and sleeping through the night, I hopefully won’t be wallowing in a woe is me place for much longer. Hopefully, I’ll adapt and overcome and wait for the night when I jerk awake at almost 6 a.m. and realize that Clara didn’t wake me up, even once.
What a glorious time that will be.
For now, I’m going to work on organizing and getting caught up on things that have slipped through my fingers. It sounds fun, right? It might NOT be, but I look forward to kicking back when the time comes.