“All the prosperous of the earth eat and worship; before him shall bow all who go down to the dust, even the one who could not keep himself alive.” ~Psalm 22:29~
Work went well today. They did this thing where they switched up the Summer shifts in order to hopefully solve some of the staffing issues. One nurse comes at 7-3 and has the whole floor for two hours. Then the other nurse comes at 9 and stays until 5:30. Then she takes eight of the residents and is responsible for all of the treatments. This way there is some overlap for her to be there to help with the evening med pass and treatments before the 3-11 nurse is there for the rest of the night with CNA’s.
This was my first time doing the 9-5:30. I’m not sure how I like the new system yet but I can understand what they were thinking when setting it up. Today anyhow it was nice to not have to go in quite as early. I can go to sleep in peace feeling like tomorrow is a normal morning. I was a little worried about my energy levels and not being able to feel okay for the shift, but God provided what was needed and I typically still seem to feel better as the day goes on. I came home and finished our Good Friday supper.
The rest of the family went to church which was the arrangement ahead of time. We usually have some kind of special meal for Maunday Thursday or Good Friday where we have lamb and other things that make it seem more like a passover meal. There’s no meaning attached to it, other than the visual and experiential act of drawing the attention to something different and remembering when our Lord underwent his own day on our behalf.
Last Sunday when we were Facetiming we said, “Well where is your meet at?” It was in Pella, Iowa on Thursday. That’s how things went from it not looking like he was coming home for Easter to having an extra whole day because someone could go pick him up from the meet. Dad and the boys left this morning shortly after my sister and her girls took off. The driving directions said Pella was only four hours away.
I had all kinds of crazy things to do here, including hopefully resting up for one of my scheduled days tomorrow. I had to go in and work on my continuing education videos for a couple of hours. After that I went to Aldi and filled the cart. Holiday times are special occasions and I really do have to have lists for then. The meals for the next couple of days are planned out. Elianna came home and helped me.
The food hustling and bustling for the weekend should mostly be over. I do still need to sew a button on the cassock hanging in the doorway so I don’t forget. They stayed to watch a few teammates run their races and should be home somewhere around 1AM. First I said I probably would not be awake, but later said I would wake up to see them. My daughter and I went to church this evening for Maunday Thursday.
My sister and her girls are coming tomorrow to visit. It’s their spring break this week so she came down yesterday to stay with my parents. They’ve spent the past two days there hanging out with them. This morning I called my dad back because he’d called a couple of days ago just to see in general how things were going. This evening I called my sister again to see if they’d be here tomorrow for lunch. “If we are, is that a problem?”, she asked. “No”, I said, “that’ll be fine.”
Tonight I’m working on a list of food and tasks. Holy Week is a little like the Christmas stretch where there are meals that need to be thought of ahead of time, something to bring somewhere and everything interspersed with church. It’s all fine as long it’s planned and you have the supplies you need. It’s a delicate balance. My mother-in-law is hosting again this year and is looking forward to having more space for tables. I don’t think I’m going to worry about dressing up.
Rest is the constant return of my life, trying to conserve and restore energy for the week’s activities. I wished I could go back into work today, but I have to just trust that God’s will is being done in their lives and mine. If it’s his will, then in time, I will be able to do more. And if not, or until then, there are still plenty of things to do here, and still much more than I could ever have before imagined. Dad and the kids went to church tonight. One day at a time is still a gift.
“Sweetie, I been doin’ this for 34 years”, she said in a way that wasn’t quite scary. “Oh”, I said, “well you’re good then”. I was trying to explain to her that this other lady gets a tube feeding that gets set up with the pump. Usually her full-time caregiver does it, but she’s not here on the weekends. I personally haven’t done hers before, and if she wanted, we could go into her room and try to figure it out before I took off.
“Yeah, I’ll figure it out.” We counted narcotics. She’d said while we were trading off that she’d not worked this wing before and didn’t know any of these people. I wanted to make sure she felt comfortable, and that I wasn’t just leaving her hanging, or leaving something undone. “Okay, well just call me if you need anything, or if I forgot something or whatever. “Honey, I try not to bother people when they’re not workin.”
I missed her name. I keep meeting people there that I haven’t met before. One of the regular nurses has been sick for four days and wasn’t going to be able to come in today either. She texted yesterday wondering if I wanted to work tomorrow. I really didn’t, but with a job like this you’ve sometimes got to do favors when you can. Long story short, she found someone to split the shift with me. I’d told her I could probably do half.
Dad took the kids to Jacksonville this morning. I’d almost forgotten about it being Palm Sunday. They have a legit called LCMS chaplain that works at the senior place. He came today to check on the hospice patients before doing the facility wide church service at 10. There was quite a collection of residents in the common room watching and listening on the big TV. The music from the organ seemed to calm everybody.
And there was one who listened from her room. It was turned up so loud, that while I was outside her door, I thought for a moment that the song was coming from hidden speakers in the hallway. I called Josh and the kids when I was back in the van and they were on their way home too. I’d started chicken before I left so we didn’t have to worry about lunch. I showered and changed back into different clothes, glad to have gone.
I asked one of the boys if he could go out in the woods and take some pictures. The spent the afternoon playing outside. They played a game called Manhunt, which is similar to the camp game Hostage. In the morning the four kids had done their Saturday cleaning chores from their cards. They say I have to stick to the card and not add more than what the card is asking. At first I wanted to say, “Um, I’m the mom and I can do what I want.” But I decided to hear their pleas and just be honest and try to joke, “Okay”, I said, “but it’s hard.”
Lunch was scheduled for 12:45. “This is part of my job”, I told them. With four of them doing 25 minutes of cleaning a day, that’s nearly two hours of cleaning happening in less than 30 minutes. It makes a big difference for me to not have to do that. I did acknowledge that my rounding skewed my estimated number of two hours when in fact it is closer to an hour and a half. But it still makes a difference.
Dad had a meeting down at the dining hall. The camp hosted a Lutheran High planning session where the board members, some teachers and parents, and the Lutheran grade school administrators came and had a workshop led by a volunteer from one of the association churches. They have a new plot of land now. I really hope it works out for the school to figure something out. The longer this goes without forward progress the more students the school looses, as well as confidence from parents that the school has a viable future. The Catholic school in town just announced a new sliding scale tuition based on income. We’ve already lost many students to them.
I have a 4-R paper due Monday. It stands for Review, Relate, Reflect, Respond, and is based on whatever book we chose to read from the list. After class last week I went and picked one from the teacher’s office. The book is called Redeeming Work: A Guide to Discovering God’s Calling For Your Career by Bryan Dik. This quarter’s class is Careers Counseling. Taking this semester off has been great. I didn’t realize how much I needed a break, though this break has definitely caused me some doubt and uncertainty. Just out of nowhere it seems like everything shifted.
What if I actually never finish? And this becomes just one of the many things I sought or started, but was blown away and lost. It seemed like God’s way and leading at the time. My three completed theology classes won’t count for anything, as well as the integrating spirituality intensive that I missed my son going to college for. I guess I could also still be thankful to have gotten through as much of the curriculum and core work that I did. And so it is with such changes, taking one day at a time.
The cat we took to the vet the other day is doing better. Yesterday we let him back outside and he disappeared for a couple of hours. He came back in the afternoon and I let him back in. He slept inside last night again and then went back outside again today. Lately another one of the outside cats has been inside more to sleep on the couch. It’s actually pretty embarrassing how many cats we have in the house, which is why I don’t think I’ve ever mentioned the actual number.
But if you include the three outside cats, there are eight. There are times that I could be standing in the living room hallway, and from where I am standing have five different cats around in my view. The biggest problem I have with them is the smell, that sometimes I feel is much worse at certain times than others. Sometimes I walk into the house and I immediately smell animal. Other times I walk in and it doesn’t smell like anything. It’s a little bit ridiculous but this is what it is.
Tonight Dad and the kids walked out to the new property to see where all the giant logs used to be. The tree harvester people came and picked them all up today. Casper ran out and followed them and it was sweet to see him healing and well and in the middle of things. Today at supper we passed out our cleaning cards. After our brain storming session the other night, Josh came home and wrote out cards for the kids. I was amazed by how quickly he came up something that organized.
Everyone has 10 minutes of cleaning and tidying in their room (if needed), and then 15 minutes cleaning whatever area of the house is on their card for that day. Today’s big thing was going to the grocery store. It really is better if someone comes with me, but I can do it. I came home and cleaned out the fridge, the kind where you’re taking out the shelves and washing them in the sink. After that I was pretty tired and ready for a break. My sister called and we talked for a while.
I’m on the schedule to work the Summer wing day shift tomorrow. I haven’t worked since completing training, so it was getting to be about that time. Josh and I were working at the table yesterday morning, he on the taxes and me filling in all the things in my calendar. The track meets. The weekend things. My homework assignments, which is the only thing I highlight. While I was doing that, work texted with a list of open shifts, wondering which ones, if any, I was able to fill.
Because I am PRN I am not necessarily on the regular schedule. From what I understand, PRN is short for a Latin term that when translated to English means “as needed”. But the expectation, and the requirement, is that I pick up at least my required number of shifts. I feel like these people have been so understanding, so patient with me and flexible, that it’s time for me to start coming through. It is literally my job now to get on the schedule and help them out.
And almost every day there are texts that come. The normal texts from the server that come right to your phone. And the more personal texts from the scheduler that come when someone has called off or when the broader texts haven’t gotten enough results. And even a few direct texts from workers trying to find their own replacements. I really don’t mind it but it can be hard to have to tell someone no, and equally hard to tell them yes, knowing this means I’m committing my day.
So after the thinking and wondering I finally prayed last night, “Lord, give me the wisdom to know when to say yes and when to say no.” I’d already committed to going to church and told myself I wasn’t ready for evenings yet. And I was tired yesterday, and knew I needed today to still be a little more of a nurturing day, folding some laundry, getting the food done. I found two dates on the calendar that I could fill in for. I typed out my reply, stared at the text for a time, then hit send.
I’ve been reading a few things lately that have reminded me again of things I’ve said here. The other day, there was an Instagram post by @lauren_stadler. I’m putting her handle name out there to throw this woman under the bus. I’m just trying to not be a hypocrite by doing the very thing that here lately just bugs me. It’s when people are responding to what other people have supposedly said, but they preface it with “Our culture these days….” or “Feminists will tell you….”
Like, tell me where you saw this so I can go and read for myself and see if I agree with your conclusions. So she started out by saying, “I think sometimes it’s easy to get caught up in thinking we should do more…” Being someone who writes about homesteading and food production, shortly after she goes on, “It’s ok to not make it all from scratch. It’s ok to bake your bread but not mill the flour. It’s ok to read the label and buy a pasta sauce with ingredients you like. It’s okay if half the plate is homemade and half is store bought.”
I read this and immediately thought, “Oh my gosh…”, and I wondered if that was what I sounded like when I was talking about meal planning the other day. Like, the things that cause us angst, the things that apparently have to reassure ourselves of and give permission for…it’s wild. We all have different priorities, ways of doing things, and things we’re trying to accomplish. So like I said, I’m not dissing this woman. But to complete my own thought, somewhere I was thinking, “Oh my gosh, get me off of this hamster wheel.” Like, of course it’s okay that she’s not milling her own flour.
And then today I started another book called Balance, Busyness, and Not Doing It All by Brenda Yoder. Sometimes as a person you just need those books that are speaking so very directly to your particular season of life. It’s felt effortless and perfect to read. It started out by talking about finding your identity in Christ. I feel like this is one of those basic things that should be sunken in and melded to every fiber of my being by now. Our worth is not found in what we do, or even what we don’t do, but it’s found in our relationship to God the Father, through the access provided to us by his Son.
She shared a story about breaking down one day in tears and being so upset with herself. I recently had something similar happen, and it was a full blown ambush with cuss words and burying my face in my hands and saying in shame and exasperation, “Why?!? Why am I like this?!? I’ve had these library books for almost a year. They were important books that were part of the school’s collection of Stone-Campbell Movement history. They were in a bag in my room for months, now they are nowhere to be found. And I had to call the librarian and let her know I would not have the bag for her after all.
She talks about embracing who you are, including your weaknesses. She then something that made me question, specifically, that our weakness are not our fault. It makes me uncomfortable to hear that because my mind jumps to say, “Wait a second, you’re just trying to get me to abdicate responsibility for my failures.” If my weaknesses are actually my fault, then I can do something to change them. If I can do something to change them, then I can eliminate my weaknesses so as not have them anymore.
The truth is, that in some way, God uses our weakness for his glory. I’ve heard it all a thousand times. She references a book The Prayer of Hannah by Pastor Ken Gividend, who renames our weaknesses the “lesser-strengths”. The term resonates. Not because I’m necessarily trying to escape the direct reality of having weakness, but because I’m inclined to think of strengths more as something God can use. And gives. And allows. And if that’s true with the greater ones, how much more with the lesser ones.
Dairy Queen was giving away free ice cream cones today. On our calendar we’d planned to have a Housecleaning Brainstorming Session so we decided to combine the two things and do the brainstorming session there. While they were waiting I went outside to get some steps. I had over 6,000 today. It really just doesn’t feel the same to walk anymore. Later this summer we’re supposed to climb a smaller mountain in South Dakota which I think is something like 3.5 miles up. I have no interest or goals in trying to climb it.
It’s kind of like when you’re spine fuses and your back isn’t as flexible as it was when you were younger. You used to be able to backbends and walkovers and touch your head to your feet with your neck hyperextended to make a perfect arch and fit. All the stretching in the world could not bring that kind of flexibility back, and it feels like its kind of the same with this. Like, I don’t want to give up and just succumb to the slow decline of a sedentary life and lack of movement. The limitation is in my heart. It’s in my chest.
I didn’t have any ice cream. “It’s not good for your figure”, I joked, and I was happy when he laughed. But everybody else had some (minus Elianna who was with Miles) and so they were happy too. I wrote Ethan a letter this afternoon which is the first time I’ve written since he’s gone away. I kind of forget that Amazon-ing snacks and juice boxes and sign language textbooks isn’t the same as writing. Our brainstorming session went well and we came up with a plan of how to spend a little bit of time daily on the cleaning basics.
I write about food like it’s this ongoing outward thing but it’s really just something that exists inside my head. So I can think for years that if I could just be consistent with weekly meal planning that this would basically solve my homemaking food problems. And the result of this solution? That I would no longer need to think about it.
But here’s the thing–I’m speaking plainly–being consistent with designing and following weekly meal plans, even weekly meal plans that you make up once and then simply rotate throughout the seasons, is not something I have been able to do. And it drives me nuts because I feel like somewhere, I should be far more advanced by now.
Here’s what I know: We have to eat everyday. Traditionally in our family it has been my responsibility to work out the logistics most of the time to make sure this happens. And like the laundry, or much of the cleaning, is this something that I resent having to do? Honestly, no. Do I feel like there are times when I could do a better job than I’m doing?
Sicknesses and life seasons aside, yes. Do I sometimes get this gnawing sense that with just a little bit of focus and intention that the task that so often seems overwhelming to me could be relieved by approaching it in a little less scattered way? Again, yes. So what does this mean? Because it is too much for me to try and plan everything out.
Maybe there actually exists somewhere people who actually do this, women who are particularly gifted with organization and detail, and meal planning is one of the outlets they have for this quality. But I would argue that this is not the vast majority of housewives, or just the normal people out there who are getting by in the day to day.
A couple weeks ago in class we were talking about the Myers-Briggs types. Some of us were P’s, some of us were J’s. The J’s are the one who supposedly like to have things scheduled and operate best in a more structured way when things are planned out. P’s are ones who prefer less structure, leaving room for spontaneity. I am more of a P.
What I wanted to know was, do J’s struggle with nagging thoughts such as “Oh I really need to let loose a little more. I need to learn to be a little more flexible”? And then I explained that this was my struggle, regularly thinking, “Oh I need to be more organized”. I buy my planner and am proud of myself for doing that. It does help.
There was only one student who had anything to add. He’s a J and he says he recognizes where his J-ness could be a problem. And then the teacher said that it’s good to be able to grow in areas where we’re weaker, in organization, in flexibility, etc. But also, at the end of the day, we have to be able to get to a point of, “Okay, this is me.”
And not want to change it. In other words, to accept and appreciate the special ways our strengths and qualities add to the good of the world. So for me this means that it makes sense why trying to plan out the exact meals and make a shopping list for each week for me to follow is something I can do but also feels like impossible drudgery.
It’s because I’m trying to meal plan like a J instead of a P, which is actually who I am. So how would a P meal plan? With a mental template. Let’s say I need five suppers this week. Typically it’s good to have a substantial amount of food for growing and hungry people. Lunch doesn’t have to be crazy but it’s nice to do something more for it too.
And besides the “go-to” memorized recipes like tator-tot casserole which I know everyone likes, let’s just say you follow a general rule to have a meat, potato/starch, and green vegetable option for the evening meals. So when I go to the store that’s what I’m looking for. A couple of bags of yellow potatoes. Brussels sprouts. Frozen stir fry.
Frozen chicken thighs. Pork chops. Beef roast. THIS IS FINE. I don’t have to do it another way. Nobody is asking me to. This works. And if it at some point it stops working, then I can adjust and do something different as needed. But it is actually less stressful for me to do it like this where I can live as who I am instead of trying to be different to no avail.
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