Some days I wonder why I decided to get out of bed. Sure, I can regain perspective... but sometimes I let the darkness take me a bit. There is perspective that comes with that as well. I think my relationship with God can take a little doubt and questioning sometimes. Focus can be found even there.
Kellie (my wife) is sick today with a vicious head cold. The kind that turns your nose red and swells your eyes. She decided to take a needed day off, although with a fully healthy 4 year old Sterling there (our youngest), she'll probably spend the day climbing trees and swinging from light fixtures.
No coffee in the kitchen. Ugh. Of course not. Kellie usually does this. It's ground and ready to brew, but I don't have time. I have a coffee maker in my office at the school. I'll brew there. I grab a coffee mug and steal some powdered creamer from one of our tenants (hi Gloria... sorry).
The big kids (Caleb 13, Aleksandra 11) have no ride to school. Kellie usually does this. No problem. Dad taxi activate!
I broke the rules and dropped them off before 7:30 so that I could get to the school where I am principal a mere 20 minutes after teachers arrive. In this one act, I violated the rules of two schools. I figure that's just how I roll today. I mean no disrespect, sometimes I just seize a little flexibility.
I arrive at my school to realize that I've left my keys hanging on the nose of the wooden Mayan warrior that I dragged out of a scrap heap and displayed in my office. Crap.
I drag my computer bag, lunch, and STILL EMPTY coffee mug through campus to lead the morning devotional. I'm really not feeling real devoted. I stumble through Jesus, fishes, loaves, a real story of multiplication that I witnessed (nod to Jesus, miracles still happen), and then linked it all back to the Monthly Value of compassion (not feeling compassionate).
Meanwhile my office is now open (major props to Gerson), but to my chagrin I realize that I was responsible yesterday and I locked all my cabinets. Fabulous (dirty filthy curse words). MY COFFEE GROUNDS ARE IN THERE. Now I have crossed the line and I am vile.
But I don't get to be vile. I'm a pastor. I'm a principal. I'm a missionary. I am not allowed to punt children.
Suddenly I remember it is Field Trip to the Theater day for elementary. I know this because the bus has arrived early and is blocking traffic in front of the school. The ONE bus... for 120 students. This is a problem. Teachers are requiring explanations that I don't have. Again... I am vile. But I am not allowed to punt teachers either.
After 30 minutes of cat-herding, the students safely (no punting) pull away in the single bus and 4 vans.
Two teachers are absent, the Academic Director was away on business, and I am without coffee. Still feeling vile here. I hear my phone vibrate. It's Kellie. Alexandra is sick at her school and needs picked up. Fabulous. Normally Kellie would do this.
I am required to remain at the school as the legal designate.
I decide my daughter is more important (I realize while typing this this that the school owners will read it), and I completely take care of all things at the school, notify all the necessary individuals, message my boss, and run down the street to grab my daughter.
Of course the car's fuel gauge is below the "E" and I pray silently as we head towards a gas station. It isn't the closest, but it is down hill all the way there, so I figure we can coast if I run out of gas. We make it. I fuel up (freaking out the attendant because I stood and stared at him...I didn't trust him. Ugh! I am called to trust) and buy Gatorade for my dehydrated daughter.
I successfully get her home, force fluids down her throat, verify that my wife is still living, pull a pee-soaked pink blanket from the 4 year old who is silent because she has discovered electronics (smart wife) and return to work.
I free the coffee grinds and enjoy a cup of coffee, flavored with my stolen creamer. I realize I haven't eaten anything and so I take two eggs and crack them into a small glass dish. I do this every day. I always microwave them for one minute twenty seconds. They are always perfect. Today I punched in the wrong numbers and I exploded two eggs like a Gremlin in a microwave. Nasty. Ugly cleanup.
This does not help my vile nature. I am not allowed to punt microwaves. I partially disassemble the microwave and throughly clean it as an amused teacher watches. When I'm done, he leaves the room as he mentions over his shoulder, "enjoy your eggs." I can't punt microwaves into teachers.
I remember that moment when my alarm went off. Maybe I should have stayed in bed? Then again... I have made it through this day without punting anyone or anything. There may be some merit there. I think our difficult days force us to grow a little through the struggles.
"My son, do not despise the chastening of the LORD,
Nor be discouraged when you are rebuked by Him;
For whom the LORD loves He chastens,
And scourges every son whom he receives."
(Proverbs 3:11-12; Hebrews 12:5b-6.)
And so, I am thankful for this day of growth. And coffee. Thank God for coffee. I am shaking. I've had too much.
Kellie just shot me a text. I forgot to pick up Caleb from school. Dear wife, I don't think you are allowed to punt me.
"You have not yet resisted to bloodshed, striving against sin."