I’m sure I’m not alone in trying to survive the busy-ness of these weeks. It seems there have been more meetings, end-of-school-year events, doctor appointments than I can keep up with. Work is crazy, my in-laws are visiting, and we’re trying to treasure this time before Brandon deploys. This morning I found myself up at 5 am making the gluten-free rice krispie treats I promised for Hope’s class. I was standing over a skillet reading Psalm 23 while waiting for the dairy-free butter to melt when I realized that I forgot to buy the marshmallows for the rice krispie treats. Ugh! I thought, my cup runneth over. But not exactly in the way the beautiful psalm intended.
The Message version of Psalm 23:5 says, “You revive my drooping head; my cup brims with blessing.”
It’s true, thank God. And how I need Him this morning!
I wanted to re-post an oldie, another time when cups were running over a lot:
(Originally posted on September 1, 2009)
If you read this, Mom, sorry for the un-ladylikeness of this post.
Rhema has this thing that she does with an open cup of juice or milk. If she’s really thirsty, she’ll carefully take a few sips. And then all of a sudden, she’ll bolt from the table, run to the bathroom as if life depended on it, and dump the contents of her cup into the toilet bowl. Then she’ll calmly return to the table.
It was so insanely busy this past weekend that I couldn’t find time to use the bathroom. (Been there?) Rhema seems to require more than constant supervision lately, and I thought it would be risky to stop and “go potty.” So I just opted to hold it for as long as I could.
By late afternoon, my bladder was ready to betray me. The girls were at the table eating a snack and seemed content.
Ahhh, my chance?!
I ran to the bathroom… and… how do you spell r-e-l-i-e-f? I realized that I hadn’t sat down all day. I sighed, wishing I could hide in there forever. I lingered, enjoying a moment to myself…
You know what happens next.
The door bursts open, scaring me half to death.
Before I can yell or jump, a full cup of cold milk is dumped in my bare lap. My black shirt is suddenly decorated with milky polka dots.
Rhema is startled. She had expected an empty toilet. This was not part of the plan.
We stare at each other for a moment…
Then she sprints back into the kitchen, empty cup in hand.