After only a few hours sleep we decided to go to church. It would have been so easy to just sleep in. We deserved it....or at least he did. But we went and I'm always glad when we do.
A mentor of mine has helped me learn the importance of sitting with discomfort. This is a fairly new concept for me. As you can imagine, for someone who doesn't wait well, it's even harder to sit (wait) with discomfort.
We are not talking about physical discomfort. We are talking about when I feel unsure or when I sense conflict. I have a strong need for peace, if not harmony. When conflict arises I have an overwhelming need for resolution. If I am sitting with discomfort I must resist the urge to "go fix things". I must wait.
It is not easy for me, to say the least, but I'm getting better at it. I began to use Sitting With Discomfort as a practice. The act of sitting, the act of not acting or reacting became the lesson.
I began to see positive and unexpected results. Conflicts resolved themselves without my intervention.
I'm still trying to learn what it all means in the big picture of life. I think if I examine it closer I'll see a connection to waiting and blessing.
I love the urban life this photo captures. A nice size dog...not a pint size "apartment dog" and a residence above retail. We don't have that where I live now. We did have it in Bellevue, WA and of course some in Seattle. In Bellevue the urban style condos and apartments above retail was still nouveau and so not the same as NYC.
Hope you enjoy the weekend.
"Really?!" I wanted to say, "If my kid is late then you know I'm REALLY late. I still have to get to work, you know." I mean, how else can we afford to live in the house that affords my daughter the right to go to such a good school?
Driving into the school drop off zone, I would try to come to a rolling stop as I said to my sweet child, "I'm sure you're not late. It's probably just the first bell," I would say as I encouraged her to go ahead into school.
"But Mom," she would say, "you know we're late. The teachers aren't out here anymore and there are no other cars in drop off." She was right, of course. All of the good mothers had already been and gone.
Parking illegally in the drop off zone, I would take my sweet girl to the office so I could be judged. It was bitter medicine. My girl was here! Here, bathed, clothed and homework done. I'm not a complete failure. (Am I ?) Am I traumatizing my kid?
So each day I would smile as I wrote down our excuse in the log. "Car wouldn't start; Alarm didn't go off," that sort of thing. Once I wrote, "You don't even want to know".
Did I tell you the secretary reads what I've written in the log before she issues the admission slip? Often she read while pursing her lips to look at me. She thinks carefully before deciding if my reason is acceptable. Finally, she writes the admission slip for my cherub. The "Get Into Class Free" card. "Yes," she decides, "this little girl will get her free public education today". I'm thankful and I'm sheepish and I'm grateful.
"Yes," I say to myself, "even children with flaky working mothers deserve their education".