zoom zoom zoom
|group Bible time|
I had this thought the other day as I was nursing the baby in the wee hours of the morning (whatever "wee" means in that expression, certainly not "wheeeeee!"). It's brilliant, you'd better have a seat.
So Before, when I had only two children - probably before the whole craziness of pregnancy too - my life was like a long road trip. Getting out of bed was like leaving the gas station, hopefully all filled up and ready to go.
We're talking a loooong road trip, so (in addition to unimaginable joy (only slight sarcasm there)) there were the usual companions: fatigue, tedium, irritation, and the like. But I usually reached the next fuel stop with about a quarter tank left. With a quarter tank, you can do a bit of site-seeing along the way, and not worry about having to dig through your wallet for your AAA card. A quarter tank is good. A quarter tank is margin.
|drawing the united states|
|similar activity so no one feels left out|
Now. . .now it's more like this: On the aforementioned road trip, I screech out of the gas station in the morning with the gas cap only partly on and the little gas door (does it even have a name?) clanging in the wind, pedal to the cracker-covered floor mat. Gas tank three quarters full, at best. Come nightfall, I coast into the next station, gas gauge on E, riding on fumes, one tire slightly flat, missing hubcap, and no wiper fluid to my name. But you know what? I make it. Every day, I make it.