Saturday we had our second annual “Shake at the Lake” memorial weekend shindig with our church family. It is pretty cool to see where God has moved you in a year. Last year, my kid was three weeks old and I freaked when I got stuck on a boat that was supposed to go back in “no more than thirty minutes” and stayed out for over an hour while Juliet was in the house, with Nonni, who knows more about babies than I could ever learn, even if I read every the ENTIRE contents of baby center. This year I was all “hey, the baby is in the pack and play, someone run in the house and make sure she hasn’t crawled out and jammed something metal in a light socket every once in a while would you? Thanks! See you!
I will say that if someone would have told me I would be in the same maternity bathing suit two years in a row (I was three weeks post partum last year, cut me some slack please) I would have slapped them. But I am more pumped every day to meet this baby. My family is going to be so FUN!
Anyway, Lake Oconee is beautiful and it was awesome to
lounge in the floats swim. The Peanut would have spent the entire day in her floaty if we would have let her. But the bottom of the lake is…well…it is squishy. In some parts it is very squishy. I know I am lake spoiled because I grew up swimming in an Adirondack lake, that has a firm bottom and according to the EPA is cleaner than the stuff I shower in every day. But squishy bottom lakes kind of gross me out. On the plus side, as the lake isn’t fed by snow run off I didn’t turn blue from swimming in it before August.
It was a gorgeous day and a beautiful time. But sometimes trying to get your footing in that lake bottom can be exhausting. It takes a lot of concentration, you have to constantly be moving your legs, and every once in a while despite your best efforts you end up dumping yourself in the lake. I mean, whole exercise routines have been built around the idea that you use a lot more muscles, and your core gets a serious workout just by trying to stand on half an exercise ball.
And then Sunday Tim preached about the wise man who built his house upon the rock. (As I whispered the song and did the hand motions for Christian.) It reminded me about how much scrambling I had been doing lately. I find out sometime today whether or not I will be teaching summer school starting next week. I have about six back up plans. I have been obsessing about my chances of getting a job with a different school district next fall. Trying to figure out babysitting arrangements when I don’t know Christian’s schedule, nor how long it will actually take me to get home. I just don’t know. And as much obsessing I do, I am not going to know how it will all shake out. But I do know who is in control of all of this.
Building my future on the sand has been exhausting. I don’t know what my plans are monday, let alone August. I am so tired of dancing and concentrating on the shifts in the plans as I brace for the eventual times that I will fall flat on my face and have to pick myself up and hope that I can shift and move and stay upright a little bit longer this time around. But I don’t have to do that. I could sit back and say “God knew what he was doing last summer and He knows what He is doing now.” I wonder why it is so hard for me to stand on the rock of Christ Jesus. Maybe it is because the other way, while exhausting, I can fool myself into thinking I am somehow doing something, helping in some way. This way, I just stand. Why is doing nothing so hard for me? And you? I know I am not the only one.
Today I found this hiding in my drawers. I post it note in my hand writing “And my God will supply everything you need according to His glorious riches in Christ Jesus”. Just (per usual) what I needed.