Spilled Milk

Germs have been waging war against us for about a month in this house. It started with a little sniffle, and it has become a full blown coughing, sneezing, earache, sore throat, mucus-fest. Combine that with a couple of perpetually teething toddlers, and you have a recipe for physical misery and mental anguish that seems to be never ending. I think much of this is brought on by seasonal allergies and taken advantage of by a few enterprising germs. On top of this, Mark is trying to work through it on his outage hours of 72 hours/week. We've been trying to start a garden also during this season, keep the lawn mowed, and deal with a few incidental health problems that have cropped up. The thing is, I don't really feel stressed by these things. That is, until I sit and dwell on them.

This morning was a different story. I woke up to a puddle under our freezer in the garage. It seemed as though it had been like that for quite awhile as most of what was in the freezer was thoroughly thawed and useless. Even the things I might have been able to salvage had NO place to go, as the freezer was inoperable at the moment, and our indoor freezer was overstuffed as it was. As I was calling everyone I could think of - it occurred to me I was feeling a little bit of stress. Mark is largely unavailable by phone during outage, and my parents are packing for a 2 week vacation in Florida.

As I was surveying the damage, the insurance man called to explain that he would need a thorough inventory (along with prices) of anything in the freezer that was unsalvageable. As we were talking, Violet came up behind me, slipped on the puddle of water from the freezer, and smacked the back of her head on the cement garage floor. The dull thud precipitated the "pause heard round the world" before the screaming that prohibited any further conversation with the insurance man who had ironically asked, "How are you doing today?" when I had answered the phone. Well, if he didn't have a clue how I was at the beginning of the conversation about how to properly inventory a freezer full of spoiled food, then he certainly had a better idea when the baby was screaming in his ear at the end of the conversation.

Now, I'm not really one for crying, and I have a strict, "no crying before noon" policy, mostly because no one else in the house follows this same policy, and we can't all spend the morning blubbering.

I was wracked with waste guilt as I was filling three garbage bags with previously-frozen food. I was also being grossed out by all the juices of previously frozen chicken and pork - imagining my feet wading in e-coli and trichina worms that had dripped onto the rest of the food and was running in puddles around the garage floor. The cause of all this mess was a tripped breaker. It almost made me mad at the freezer - as if it was all her fault. But then again no emotion makes me want to animate inanimate objects like anger does.

As I was struggling trying to empty and inventory the freezer food and keep the toddlers out of the germ puddles, Sadie and Claire came outside and asked how they could help. The girls started carrying salvageable food into the inside freezer and helped keep the toddlers occupied. As I breathed a long, frustrated sigh, Sadie asked, "What's wrong?" I responded rather impatiently, "What's wrong? You can see what's wrong." Without a word, she went into the house and came back out to the garage with her pink CD player and a CD which she popped into the player. It was called "I Can Only Imagine - Lullabies for a Peaceful Sleep". It was Christian songs/hymns played lullaby style. She turned it on in the garage and went to help Claire keep an eye on the babies again. Claire came over to me with a cut out heart that said in crayon, "I love you, mom. Happy Day. Best Day :)" Well, needless to say my no crying policy was in serious jeopardy. I felt another serious guilt pang - that of feeling so sorry for myself when these precious children could see it. They were bearing my burdens with me. And they knew what I needed better than I did at that moment. My blessings far outmeasure my difficulties, and how can I not see that every moment?

It made me notice once again that there are real people inside my children - not just ones that need, need, need, but ones that can see a need and give, give, give. I underestimate my children daily. Their understanding and ability is far above what I imagine it is. I take no credit for this. If anything, my ignorance reduces their potential. I am so thankful that God put within them the ability to recognize a need and the love to act upon it. I hope that, in a world full of takers, they will grow up to be givers, and I hope that I figure out how to nurture that gift. I hope that they learn that, as they demonstrated today, love is not a word - it's a choice to act for the benefit of another. Love - in its true form - is rarer than any other gift on the planet. 1 John 3:18 says, "¹⁸Dear children, let us not love with words or tongue but with actions and in truth." Anyone with a voice (or ability to write) can love with words, but actions show the truth of what's in the heart. True love requires action.

Today I've been loved by my children - not just in words before bedtime or after I bake a batch of cookies - but in action that overflowed from a heart of genuine love. It's my prayer that I can demonstrate this same action toward others also.

On the bright side, we're eating like royalty today - trying to salvage a HUGE pork roast, corn on the cob, and some Schwan turkey pot pies, AND the insurance company offers $500 in spoiled food coverage. So whatever I can't save is on the insurance company, and finally that huge insurance check I write out every month doesn't seem quite so useless. Today didn't go as I planned, but it always goes how God plans. This morning wasn't filled with learning about science and history. In fact, it was more of a "teacher might have to go to The Institute" day. At least I learned something, and I guess crying over spilled milk isn't so bad after all - as long as you're crying out of gratitude for the love of the one who cleaned it up for you.