Today, everything is falling apart.
Today, I don’t like being a Christian.
Michael’s gone for the next two days, working, but we’re thankful that he still has work. I haven’t had gainful employment since the summer, and I’ve got several possible jobs lined up, but right now we’re just watching our money dwindle. I know God will provide, but it’s hard not to get frustrated. We’ve finally got people on the roof (Ian included), and of course one of the neighbors in our fine historic neighborhood called the city and told them we’re doing “construction.” Since our house is historic, that’s not allowed. What they didn’t bother to come over and find out though, is that we’ve had water pouring into our house since the flood, and if we don’t repair it, then there won’t even be a house for them to whine over. Just as Ian finishes telling me this, I carry my bike down the steps, ready to ride out for groceries, and one of the street lamps (and signs) has been hit by something, something very large, and there’s fragments of broken glass strewn over our step and down the whole block. Great.
Everything is falling apart.
Oh wait, except the roof.
Making anything in the kitchen is a project in-and-of itself right now. Since the flood, we’re still missing electricity in our main kitchen, so we’re using the micro oven on the second floor. Don’t get me wrong, I praise God that we even have two kitchens. I guess I should also praise him for all the exercise it’s forced me into… Time to make coffee. Grind the beans, find a filter, get a pot brewing. Run downstairs, grab a cup. Damn it, I forgot a spoon. Down, up. Maybe I’d like some sugar, and I realized none of my breakfast food is up here anyway. Down, up. Make oatmeal on the stove, of course I forgot a bowl. Down, up. I’d like some milk, and thank God it’s already in the fridge, ’cause I’m not going back down! Done for now, repeat at dinner. Really, it just requires a lot of planning. I’ve been a lot better this past week.
And if cooking for twelve in a tiny kitchen wasn’t enough to keep me occupied, I’ve had doomsday feelings following me around all week. Let me tell you right now, dear reader, starting a business is hard. I’ve been gathering all the required paperwork together this week, and it’s done nothing but give me a huge headache. I haven’t even started filling it all out yet. Baking for family and friends, easy. Getting the state and federal government to give you the okay on selling your baked goods to strangers, hard as fuck. It’s fun though. I love to-do lists, so I’m making each item something I can just cross off once I’m done, and it’s motivating me to keep moving. I don’t want to make this post (or this blog) about us starting a business, but right now that’s a huge part of my stress, so I can’t help but mention it. At the end of the day though, all I can do is shrug and hope it’s in God’s will.
I’ve just been feeling hopeless lately. I feel overwhelmed and ill-equipped and I just don’t know what to do. Maybe it’s God trying to call me back, trying to get me to, in fact, give up. At this point, all we can do is trust that he will provide and take care of everything. And he has so far. But it’s a daily thing; every day we must renew our faith, and say, yet again, “Alright. You must be going somewhere with this.”
So today, I will do dishes.
I will bike to the store.
I will make coffee.
I will vacuum the stairs.
I will clean our room.
I will make ravioli.
I will be a peacemaker.
I will help feed people behind the courthouse.
I will pray,
you must be going somewhere with this.