This week, and several weeks before, I've been a little grouchy. Okay, FINE, a lot grouchy. Geez, stop pointing it out. I have "soooo" many things to complain about wah wah wah (sarcasm).
Sure, I'm way past beyond "so over" selling the house. I'm so over spending 45% of my life this year cleaning the house and waiting for agents that never show and never bother calling to say they're not coming. We're trying to sell the house to move to a bigger house with more room. What is there to complain about, Ruthie Pooh? Not much. Is it frustrating sometimes? Yeah. Are there bigger things in life to concern myself with? Of course. Do I want the crappy agents to run through a construction site and puncture all the tires of their Mercedes SUVs? No........yes. Maybe. God's timing is perfect and He's got the right buyer out there for this house. We just have to wait and not be so whiney about it. And if we're still in this house when Baby #3 comes along, we'll make it work. I mean, one of the twins can sleep out on the patio, it'll be fine.
Sure, I don't feel good. But that's because God's chosen to bless us with another perfect life to care for. One of His children given to us here on Earth. Why did God give us three while so many very, very dear friends are waiting for one? I don't know. I know I'm completely undeserving. I know I whine about being "sick" far too much and it makes me the biggest jerkwad on the planet. It's a privilege and I want to honor this gift He's given us...through the chucking up and the tossing and turning and Pangea effect I've got going on. Through all of it, Christ can be glorified and I haven't done a great job of that lately. I cannot wait to meet this little lime (that's how big he/she is right now.) I am SO excited! I'm very excited about the singular aspects of this baby. I can't wait for him/her to meet his/her (that's gonna get old) big sisters.
Sure, I get a little worn out physically, emotionally, and mentally by my two, very energetic rascal babies. They're little chatter boxes, fo sho. And I think they run on solar power because they never seem tired and they're outside all the time, so it's the only thing that makes sense. But they make me laugh so hard every single day. They have the biggest stories to tell me. They're healthy. They're so smart (I know I'm a little biased). They love each other so much, even when they're pulling each other's hair out. They freely give hugs and kisses. They smile non-stop. They are ALWAYS smiling. They're the biggest goons and little hams I've ever met. And they're mine and David's. Every now and then, we'll be winding down for the day and turn off the living room lights and David will read them a story...the girls cuddled up on each side of him, hanging on his every word. And I'll look at my three favorite people and think, "Holy crap, we have kids." And then I'll go back further and think of my 16 year old self and David's 17 year old self and the first time he asked me to eat lunch with him at summer camp. I knew I was gonna marry him...I just never imagined it'd be this good. Who would've thunk we would have had twins. Twins with the bluest of eyes and their Daddy's curly hair...one with my personality (poor kid), one with David's.
Sure, I huff and puff when I realize SOMEbody (Iwon'tnameanynamesdavid) switched the fridge to crushed ice instead of cubed ice and then I take a sip of water and the little crushed chunks get all up in my bidness. Of all the things in all the world to get all up in a tizzy about...I choose the ice situation. David is so wonderful. On days when I'm just barely running on fumes when he gets home, he sets his briefcase down, pulls out his wallet, takes off his watch and grabs the girls and heads outside. And he takes care of everything the rest of the night. He feeds them, he bathes them, he brushes their teeth. I'll take a nap or do housework or just sit in the quiet for a minute. I know I have it good. He is the perfect partner. I couldn't imagine life without my soulmate...crushed ice and all.
None of those things...those really GOOD things...would be anything if it weren't for the sacrifice made on that Friday so many years ago. I'm excited about the Easter bunny and the hunting (of the eggs, not the bunny) and the Cadbury everything. I'm excited to share all of that with our kids. The Easter bunny bought way too much for the twins this year. Actually, the Easter bunny is regretting all that the Easter bunny got because the Easter bunny realizes it's gonna cause some issues...i.e. sidewalk chalk, crayons, stickers, etc.
But, Easter is more than that. You know the story. But, it's almost too unfathomable, if that makes sense. I think we skip over the hard part of the story sometimes because it's "too much." Sure, we like the third day aspect. It's neat and clean and shiny and well, without it...there's no Easter. But, the first part of the story...the part that happened on Good Friday...without that, there's no Easter, either. And it's pretty much impossible for me to understand what He went through. For me. For you. My Dad did a medical explanation of all the physical things Christ experienced that day in a church several years ago. A lady passed out. A few people had to leave. He wasn't being gross...it was just the truth. It's a hard truth to hear. It was a gift. A gift given out of the biggest, most intimate love. A gift none of us deserves. But, it's totally free. As you know, I am not an eloquent individual. I say things like "upchuck" and "gyah" and "like" way too much. This B.C. cartoon was on the Facebook page of the guy who played bagpipes at our wedding and I thought it summed it up pretty perfectly for today. I probably should have just shown the cartoon.
It's a Good Friday indeed. Happy Easter, everybody!