By AMY SHANKLAND
Sandwiched
My left eyelid has been twitching quite a bit lately. The last time this happened, my family and I were scrambling to move Mom from her home in Mishawaka to her assisted living facility in Noblesville. This also took place during the holiday season five years ago.
Today is probably the reason why my body has decided to unleash this stress-induced reaction. On this Friday, we’ve got a prediction of rain on and off throughout the afternoon. And what will my family and I be doing?
First, we’ll be moving Mom’s bed out of her facility and into our garage so they can get a more comfortable hospital bed in for her. This sounds deceptively simple. It hasn’t been. I figured a local thrift shop could pick it up and it wouldn’t take long. No one had the availability.
I then had to figure out who had a truck and muscles that we could borrow to get everything transported. Our friend Matt is providing the muscles today (dear friend, we cannot thank you enough) and we already had a U-Haul reserved because…
After we put Mom’s bed into our garage, we’re heading down to Indy to help my son Jonathon move into his two-bedroom apartment. This is the third time we’ve moved one of our offspring this year. Granted, it’s not as difficult because we’re just moving him across his current apartment complex. But it’s moving. On a potentially rainy day. With just me, my husband, and Jonathon. What could go wrong?
Oh yes, and on top of all this, my son Jacob’s car is displaying its engine light. He’s going to take a chance and drive down from Ball State to our Noblesville Firestone so they can look the car over. I know the light isn’t blinking (which is super bad) but I can’t stop picturing bad stuff.
Add in the usual work and home duties, toss in the holiday preparations, and you have one eyelid-twitching mama!
I’ve advised readers in the past to use the concept of a “worry shelf” when these situations occur. This concept is similar to the worry dolls of Guatemala. Children tell their worries to these dolls, put them under their pillow, and by the morning they receive the wisdom and knowledge on how to eliminate their worries.
I skip the dolls and just picture setting all my worries up on a shelf in my home each evening. As I do this, I imagine the shelf transfers my troubles to God. Lately, my shelf is so full it could almost break. But I know this won’t happen.
My eyelid may not be listening, but my heart and mind trust the Lord and know that everything will work out. My mom will have a better bed. My son will have a roommate and no longer be alone in his apartment, which will help his mental health and his budget. Jacob will make it safely to Noblesville. And work/home/holiday duties will get completed as they always do.
I’m sharing all of this because I have a gut feeling I’m not alone this time of year. Consider this a reminder to use your own worry shelf this holiday season. Trust me, it – and God – can take all you heap upon them!