Burnt Out

I was burnt out before 10 a.m. and we still have more than enough to do today.


The kids wanted to go up to the park with their dad this morning to ride bikes with their dad, and Jax was adamant I stay home. So, I busted ass and cleaned as much as I could with an empty house.


Laundry, the kids’ room, dishes, more laundry, vacuuming, the dog and all her shenanigans, and making sure the chickens had full water jugs.


Lunch is last nights dinner, except for mom eating Dr. Pepper baked beans, because weird cravings.


While I cleaned I stubbed my toes, bonked my head, ran into a door, the dog stepped on my foot and left a cut, and my migraine is still lingering.


I spent a good amount of time talking to God. I need to know what He wants, what the plan is. Because I’m tired, and I’m tired of being tired. This can’t be what’s meant to go on for the next several months. I have other kids to raise and a house I need to keep from falling in. (If Alvi doesn’t burn it down first.)



Everyday is different. Sometimes I wake up at peace with life, others I wake up sad and without understanding, and then the rest I wake up numb to the swirling bouts of chaos that continue to twister around us.


Bad things happen to good people because the enemy wants to turn you away from God. I haven’t turned from Him but I’ve sure spent some time angry at Him. We aren’t perfect people here in our home or the rest of the world, but it’s not wrong to feel like we deserve a break, a reprieve, just a hint of light at the end of the tunnel.


You watch bad people so bad things, and I don’t know about you, but all I can wonder is after living a life with no care or regard for others, stepping on whoever they need to to get to the top or have their needs met, if they’ll get to the pearly gates at the end of their life and decide they’re sorry, ask to be forgiven, and be granted access to the great and wonderful Heaven.

There are days it feels like being a bad person would be worth it, just so we could have the things we lack with no regard for others. But, my heart and my conscience don’t allow for that. I wouldn’t want to live that life, and on those days I have to hold to my faith and nip that nasty envy in the butt. Because good people don’t truly ever want to be a bad person. It’s just the “must be nice” thoughts that get us going.


No, I don’t think people who make mistakes and know they’re only human deserve to go to Hell, but how can it be fair for bad people to live that way and still get the rewards of Heaven when those of us who struggled, wept, had decency and kindness, those who were grateful and saw the blessings of life, had to work so hard to get where we’re going?


I don’t know the answer, and it’s not my job. I’m working harder than I can explain to come to terms with these thoughts and feelings and accept things for what they are.



I am not God, I am not in control. Nor would I want to be. Not even in the slightest. The weight, the burden, the control, just isn’t something I fancy. Honestly.


Someday we’ll know, we’ll understand. Maybe not anytime soon, or even before the end of our lifetime, but eventually.


The most we can do is keep going. Keep rising above the downfalls, moving mountains, and accepting the hardships that come with being the best we can.


Admit your mistakes, be open and honest about your struggles, and lend a hand along the way.


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