My Unglued Moment

Okay, so maybe the title of this blog is misleading...

Maybe it sounds like I have only had one unglued moment.  Do not be deceived.  I have had my fair share of them.  Definitely more than one.

But for time's sake, I will share only one.  Maybe there will be more blogs on unglued moments in the future.

Okay, so I finished reading Unglued by Lysa TerKeurst recently, and felt like sharing one of my unglued moments with you.

It started like this...I had just gotten home from a pretty crazy day at work.  The holidays were looming closer and closer, and the kids were as ready for Christmas break as the teachers were.  My own children were coming at us from all sides with play practices, performance times, piano recitals, Christmas Parties, and gifts that needed to be purchased for said Christmas parties - As in, "Oh, yeah, I need a gift for a party we are having at school TOMORROW MORNING."

I had a Christmas party of my own that night.  It was our church ladies' secret pal reveal Christmas party.

I was already nervous, because I am terrible at picking out gifts for other people.  I always worry too much, and over analyze everything.  I fret over colors, sizes, styles, prices, etc. I worry the person on the receiving end will hate what I have picked out, and will feel obligated to keep/wear/use it for the rest of their life, because they don't want to hurt my feelings.  I mean it y'all!  I totally stress over gift giving!

So, back to the party.  I am already stressed because of work, heavy schedule demands from my children, and nearly sick with worry about wether or not my secret pal will like her present.  And on top of that, we had to take finger foods.  I will be the first to admit that I am NO Betty Crocker.  And the one thing that sends me into an emotional tailspin outside of buying a gift for someone, is taking food to large, or even small for that matter, gatherings.  But I must add that this was several years ago, and as Lysa would say, it's an area in which I am making imperfect progress.

What to cook?  What if someone else brings what I bring?  Will anyone eat it if I bring it on a paper plate, because I don't entertain, therefore I don't have stacks of cute serving dishes to choose from.  What DO. YOU. MEAN. WE. ARE. OUT. OF. CLING. WRAP. AND. FOIL?!?  Seriously.  My stomach hurts just thinking about it.  Then there's always the I only have so much time to get this done, and if I ruin it, I don't have time to make more pressure.  So I wrap some cocktail sausages in biscuits, and throw them in the oven, along with some heat and serve tacquitos from the frozen food section of the grocery store.  Gourmet, I know.  Then I run upstairs to get ready.

I change clothes, into festive Christmas attire.  My black pants and solid red sweater will do, because I don't buy clothes that I can only wear one month out of the year, throw on some Christmas costume jewelry, and head back downstairs to check the "delicacies" baking in the oven.  They were coming along nicely.

Now the only thing left was to wrap the present.  I gather the materials I will need, except for the tape.  Where IS the tape?  I always keep it in the same drawer.  I haven't used it in the past few days.  I know it was there not too long ago.  Now where IS IT?  My prince, oldest princess, and young prince all stand there looking at me like I've asked them where is the Ark of the Covenant.  No one has ANY IDEA where the tape is. But I have very little time to get the package wrapped and make it
to the Christmas party on time.  I NEED THE TAPE!!

No one else seemed to sense the urgency of the moment.  And since misery loves company, I didn't want them all to feel left out, and I came UNGLUED.  I ranted, I yelled, I cried, I panicked, I listened to ALL of the toxic voices in my head telling me what a total looser I was.  And my actions toward my family were proving the voices were right.

Did I mention that my mother was loosing her battle with cancer, and I wasn't exactly feeling the spirit of joy and peace to begin with?  Because I am sure that that fact played a big role in this little coming unglued act.

I remember sitting on the stairs, one big crying mess, with the oldest princess sitting beside me with her precious little arm around me saying, "Please don't cry, Mommy!  I'm sorry we lost the tape!"

It is NOT a moment that I was proud of.

I did manage to pull myself together enough to take my unwrapped present, and paper, along with my slightly burnt food lovingly displayed on paper plates, to the church.  Two precious ladies who saw I was in despair ushered me to the office where they wrapped my present with tape there, and loved on me.

I was still a mess, so I had them take my present and food on in to the party, and I came back home.
All that stress and mess, over a missing roll of tape!  If Lysa had just written Unglued about 5 years earlier, and I had read it way back then, then I am sure that my evening would have gone much differently.

But even without Lysa's book, I did learn from my unglued experience.  I've had smaller ones, and okay, maybe ONE that compares in size since then, but overall, I resolved with God's help, not to come unglued on my family like that again.  I did not like myself AT ALL that night, and I don't want my children to remember me as the Momma that went crazy over a missing roll of tape - although they now have this blog to prove it!

I would much rather them remember the gentle, quiet times.  The times we talked and laughed.  The times we listened and prayed.  The times we loved until it hurt.  So.  That is my unglued moment.  I share it not because I am proud of it in any way, but because I hate it in every way.  Every way except one.  The one that flipped the light switch in my brain that connects to my heart.  The one that throbs with "this is not the way you want to live."  The one that made me seek God's face and beg His help to control my reactions to things both big and small going on around me, so that I don't explode
on those who mean the most.  Those who matter the most.  Those who love me the most.  Well, on anyone for that matter!

Imperfect progress.  I'm making it.  Are you?