As I have driven around our city these past few weeks, I am faced with the harsh reality of buildings completely being demolished - one by one, a new one is gone each day. A slab remains, in the middle of a neighborhood full of houses. Next door, a home is "for sale by owner", stripped to nothing. Others are masked with FEMA trailers in front. Some are home to an RV in the driveway.
My heart was ripped open one morning as I passed a house, fully gutted, but not yet cleaned up. The for sale sign in front had a tag-line on top saying "Build Me Back". As if it were making a plea to anyone who would notice - build me back, so I can be wonderful again.
It's November. School started in August - yes, the flood worked a number on everybody's 2016, but we have made adjustments. And as blessed as we are to remain in our home, we have done our best to get into new routines and stick to it. 3 Months in, and I barely feel like I can get a grasp on this new "schedule." Bk3 starting Kindergarten goes down in the books as a whirlwind, schedule changing, sleep stealing adjustment for this mama here, and each day is a new adventure. I'm learning that this here, is the new norm. Buckle up, ready or not! Right?
I cut a few hours off of my weekly class schedule in the evenings, in order to open up a little bit more time with the boys after school. I'm thankful to be able to ask Bk3 "How was your day today?" on Mondays & Tuesdays, check his folder, and smile with excitement when he shows me the things he worked on those days. Wednesdays & Thursdays, I drop him off at morning carpool, and since I don't get home until 10 p.m. those nights, I won't see him again until the next morning. The days seem like rat races, starting with 5:30 am alarms, packing lunches, getting everyone to wake up, eat, get dressed, packed up, off to school, back home to clean, do dishes, cook dinner (at 10 am), do office work, manage animals, laundry, house chores, groceries, more dishes, prepare class material, emails, carpools, drop kids with the sitter, and then off to work trying to hold my eyes open - knowing I now get to be mama to a whole new animal, GIRLS. I slowly climb up the stairs at 10 p.m., eat, do MORE dishes, prepare the coffee pot, enjoy a glass of wine (if I'm lucky) and go to bed by 11:00 (again, if I'm lucky).
I pray more than ever. The time in the day ticks away, and as I count task after task off the list, I notice how adding new tasks (even if only in my mind) builds the anxiety level to no end. Impatience takes over, and all it takes is Briggs saying "you're being a mean mommy!" to make me go off and immediately regret the stress filled rant on a 4 year old. I take a second, and think "God, please build me back." The great thing is, no matter how many times you ask, He does.
Tuesday morning, at 7:10, like always, I told the boys to head downstairs and I'd be down in a few minutes. Yes, a lot can happen in a few minutes at the Webb house when it involves the boys going downstairs unsupervised. We can go ahead and check off escapes to the barn, peeing ourselves, fist fights over which car door we'll open, and Grayson successfully starting my car and putting it into reverse from the list of various crazy moments. This particular morning, I realized the chicken coop door was left open. So I got downstairs to 17 chickens, 3 boys mowing through chicken & dog shit, the two dogs, all parading together in the yard, like Nola Mardi Gras 2017. We were already 1 minute behind schedule, and I knew it was best for me to then surrender. Thankfully, I got everyone into the car, and through each respective carpool line on time that day. Of course though, not without Grayson dumping out his entire bowl of frosted flakes in his lap before the car door was opened for him to get on with his day. God so graciously gave me the gift of laughter at that moment...and boy am I thankful. I am thankful for that very same night, after getting home at 8:30 (my early night), Grayson says "rock rock mama" as I'm putting him to bed. And did I pass up that opportunity? No indeed. Brannan came in and asked my why I haven't eaten yet - and my only answer was that "my baby asked me to rock him...and that, I will do."
I pray. I pray. I pray. I pray for more deep breaths. I pray for more moments that I cherish with my sweet boys. I pray that BK3 doesn't have to say "Mama, I want to spend more time with you." as he and I both adjust to this new all-day school life. I pray for more moments where God so graciously steps in and says "Open your eyes, Carrie! Life is right now. Don't worry about what is in store next!" I can firmly agree that it must be great - what He has planned for us all. I trust, because He makes this path for me. With it's twists and turns. With the happiness and tears. With the nights ending with me saying "God, please build me back." With the mornings where I feel like a superwoman who can conquer the world, because while I slept, HE did just that. He builds me back to conquer each day. He builds me back to share with others just what that means...God is here, inside us, and never letting go. Just like someone will see beauty in that empty, stripped down, damaged, battered home. Just like someone will come in and build it back to perfection, God sees us in all the beauty we can be. The wife, mother, daughter, sister, friend, and teacher that I am. Even with the long days, stressful rants, temper-losing moments, rounding up chickens, rounding up children, rounding up dancers, rounding up life...God builds me back. For that, I am forever grateful.
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