A Wasted Day

Today was a wasted day. Not only did I not write a blog post, but also instead of having either an enjoyable or a productive day, I spent most of the day awkwardly, a little miserably, avoiding writing by clicking around political articles regarding the upcoming Presidential election and the Clintons' home life in their White House days. Today was a failed mission. A small mission, the fate of which leaves no lives hanging in the balance: post to the blog. Nevertheless, I missed the mark.

Then again, late in the day, when the sun started slanting yellowly in through my west-facing bathroom window, I did what I sometimes do: I held my life up to the parallel universes. Who else could I have become by now? I've read plenty of personal anecdotes about the mundaneness that young motherhood can bring. There are many days in which simply making it to the evening alive and standing, with an uninjured child, is a triumph worthy of a parade or at least a hearty round of applause and a head massage. I have some former classmates my own age who are in that phase now. Maybe some of them had such a day today. This train of thought took me to a few years ago, when I was serving at a ministry in New Hampshire. Often, evening would come and I would have spent the entire day dusting and mopping, except for meals and some prayer. I would have given anything for more free days, more breaks, less toilet-scrubbing. Older and wiser people in the ministry said my discontentment resembled that of a mom; important tasks were thankless and repetitive and payoff was not instant.

Still in my thoughts, I washed dishes in the kitchen and decided I wouldn't recommend my day to anyone, but there's infinite grace to move past it now that it's over. Isn't every mistake like that? I'll get yet another chance to do better--I've had so many chances--and one of these days maybe I'll even catch on. Maybe I can learn to extend grace to myself. To repeat to myself, "you're only human," and to mean it, not as a compliment or an insult, but a statement of fact and a sanity-preserver. Humans sometimes panic about nothing, or waste time, or feel things that don't make sense, or act against their own self-interest. I'm human.

This morning I prayed. However small the measure, these are things I did today: texted, Skyped, made plans, journaled, read Anna Karenina, read a less-illustrious-but-as-entertaining teen fiction book, cooked, ate delicious food, learned about the 270 electoral votes (again. I used to know this stuff when I was younger), had kind thoughts toward my mother. I washed dishes and in so doing brought order to my small world. (I did not sweep the floor, and it needs it after my cooking). It wasn't my favorite day. When I come close to dying and reflect on my life, it won't be remembered. But I'm glad I participated in a small way in important things: praying, Bible study, contemplative thought, gratitude, human interaction. My day isn't even over. There's still time for me to grocery shop, as I had wanted to. Thank goodness stores stay open so late. I'm about to go out to dinner with a few people, and maybe that will be fun or meaningful. And, hey, look at that! I posted to my blog after all!