December 7, 2014

Peace. Yes.

The second Sunday in Advent is Peace. And let me just say, "AMEN!"

Y'all? This week.


On Monday, I launched my fourth and final TMI Mom book, Girlfriend Rules. (Don't worry--it's not my final book; just the final in that series.) The online party was a blast! (Did you miss it? So sorry.)

The rest of the week was a blur. Seriously. We had basketball practices, meetings, parties. A blur.

Then we hit the weekend.

Friday, I took dinner to a dear friend who had just had a baby, Hadley had a party at our house with a bunch of super sweet but super loud teens, and Briley had a hitting clinic in Tulsa after her club Christmas party.

Saturday, we woke up at 4:45 to drive four hours to a birthday party for the  sweetest three-year-old*, ate lunch with family, drove four hours back to Briley's first basketball game (she won), cleaned the bathroom after a massive, major messy mishap, listened to the Oklahoma Bedlam game (the Pokes won! WOO!), took Briley to a birthday party, fried chicken (twice--I can never get that done enough) then collapsed into bed about eleven or so.

This morning, we woke up about seven to get Briley ready for her three-show spot as Elizabeth, the cousin of Mary and mother of John the Baptist, made breakfast biscuits for Sunday School, started three worship services (finished one), argued with one kid about where we'd eat lunch, argued with another about who she could invite to said lunch, went grocery shopping at Hellmart, put away about a gazillion pounds of groceries, started beef stew in the crockpot, wrote three articles, completed four loads of laundry, fed two dogs, fed two cats, ran the dishwasher three times, and am finally sitting down at 9:21.

Mercy, y'all.
This Sunday in Advent is Peace. 

Ironic? Nope. 
Is God trying to tell me something? Always.
What can I do about it? I'm not sure.

But this week, I'm going to be more cognizant about finding small moments in which I can be still.

My friend who had the baby is slightly older than I am. I've thought to myself that I'm so incredibly happy for her and her family, but if I were in her spot, I'd freak.

When Briley realized that Mary was only slightly older than she is right now and expecting a baby, she freaked.

Last night about midnight with the weight of the week and the coming day, I almost freaked. In fact, I wanted to freak--I didn't. Instead, I ate a Reese's Peanut Butter Christmas Tree.

Big sigh.

This week: Peace.


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