Spilled Milk

Everyone has either heard or said the phrase, "Don't cry over spilled milk." The simplistic explanation for this phrase comes from the reaction children have when their cup is dropped and the contents fall out over the floor/car/etc. Many times, the extreme reaction of a temper tantrum only comes after the child is exhausted, hungry, or otherwise previously upset and the milk cup was the straw that broke the camel's back.

 

 

I am full of cliches today.

And adults can experience these emotions, too.

 

There have been a handful of times I have personally experienced the temper tantrum that is similar to the description above. What makes it even more ironic is when you feel a breakdown coming on over real spilled milk.

Situations, specifically over the past 2 weeks, have really built up in my emotional tank. There's only so much "talking about it" that you can do. There's only so many things you can do to stay busy. There's only so many crafts to do before your boredom hits and the void is made real once more.

Today was one of "those" days. Those mornings where you'd rather just sleep in just a few more minutes instead of getting ready for work. You didn't have enough time to eat breakfast at home, so you take your cereal and milk with you. You put the milk in a bowl that may or may not spill on the way to work, which is only a 10 minute drive. "How could it possibly turn over in 10 minutes? It'll be fine." Upon getting to work, you get your things out of the car, and "what is that? Why is my bag wet?" A sigh is released from your body, and your shoulders shrink to that of an elderly lady.

But more than that, why am I so upset? "It's just like any other spill you've had where you've stayed calm, cool, and collected," I say to myself. Why is this spill any different? Maybe I don't want to deal with it. Maybe I'd just like a few days to go the way I want them. But, that won't happen either. There is a missing link in my sequence of perfect life events.

Let's make this a conversation:

Answer this question first, then the second question:
-- What is a time in your life where you felt like "crying over spilled milk"?
-- How did you pull yourself together?

 

That second question is where we'll continue.

 

As adults, we have to pull ourselves together, kind of like what the cast of Beauty and the Beast yells at Beast when he freaks out over Belle not coming to dinner.
We have to CLING to something solid, something real, something that requires more of us at that moment than we're willing to give. I've clung to my husband, my friends, my family, my faith. I'm hanging on tight, but not because of me. These people and my God require more out of me than I require from myself, and in the times where I feel like throwing my hands in the air, I call on them. I seek their counsel, their ear, and each one listens. And that is the glue that keeps me together.

 

But, next time, I'm using a different bowl.

(picture found on google.com)



Back to the Future

3 years ago this month, I was in a foreign country where I learned so much about missions work, other peoples and myself.
           
---A little back story: before I left for this trip at the end of May 2011, the love of my life and I reunited after almost 6 months of trying to figure us out. (It's a lot of drama and I'll spare you). The point is we were together again just for me to leave for the next month for a destination all the way on the other side of the world.---

Those 30 days I was gone from his side, I learned what it meant to be a Godly wife and woman. I learned from people who were living it under some pretty difficult situations. I remembered looking on my parent's marriage, my sister's marriage, my grandmother's and so many others and how they did it. What had to shift in them for them to become the life-partner their husbands needed? During those 30 days, I picked up a book or two. I picked up the Bible. I learned so much.

                                                                  I wasn't the only one.

 

While I was "galavanting" the East Asian coast, my man was also learning. He was studying under men who had been married for ages. He was studying me. Most importantly, he was studying under the Creator. We corresponded through email the whole month. Thank God for Skype! We wrote of our unfailing love, His unfailing love, our dreams and desires as we embarked on a journey towards the rest of forever. While we were apart, I learned his heart. He learned mine.

                                                                  ------------------------

Those 3 years have passed with joy and sadness, happiness and anger, short fuses and long talks. We've been married a little over a year now. They say the first year is hardest, but we held strong. Now, in this second year of marriage, we are left to correspond through emails, Skype and phone calls again. This will be harder than 3 years ago. This will be harder than our first year. But, you know what? It's the same test. It's the same situation where we will learn each other, learn from each other. We will learn ourselves. We will learn about our God. I will continue to learn what it means to be a Godly wife for my husband and he will focus on what's at hand for him as he learns how to best serve me.
Our lives are turned upside down, though not necessarily in a bad way. We just have a future to hold on to, a desire to fight the fight that we already know the outcome. If we didn't know anything else, we know that we're forever.
                                                            We knew that 3 years ago.