As Teddy screams and the pile of dirty dishes multiplies before my eyes…. As I’m trapped in a bedroom caring for one child and three more argue in the school room… As I stare at half-finished home construction through tired eyes that have not seen uninterrupted sleep for years…
I am overwhelmed. Engulfed in motherhood and the many hats I wear. Submerged in daily tasks too numerous to keep track of, and too difficult to prioritize.
And yet, I’m pretty sure I was overwhelmed with one child, then two; convinced I was at my breaking points many times, only to find, once pushed, I could keep giving.
At what point, are we truly overwhelmed? At what point, is it not the perception of being stretched too thin, and instead the reality?
When is it no longer a matter of better planning and a positive attitude and one of truly fighting for your survival?
I’m struggling with my to do list and dealing with feelings of inadequacy when I can’t get it all done. How much is enough? I want to honestly evaluate my life and say, “Yes, I’m doing the best I can,” or “No, if I change this, things will get better or easier.” But honestly, I look at my life, my daily routine, and I’m overwhelmed. And people say, “Of course you’re overwhelmed; you’re doing too much.” But how can that be if God never gives you more than you can handle? Is coasting through each day “handling it”?
And then I think, this is just a valley of shadows and, for heaven’s sake don’t hit publish on this thing.
So this is where I’m walking, trying to find the path back out. Experience has taught me to stop complaining and trust that it will work out. I just wish I could gain hindsight today.