Still Keeping a Quiet Heart (or at least trying to)

These last few weeks have been wonderful and hard for so many reasons.

First a confession (is it rude to use blogging as a cathartic?): We ripped the last of the band aid off with the TV. You know we don't have cable and therefore do not watch any TV. However, we've hung on to some very select movies and I've been allowing Charlie to watch a movie in the afternoon for quiet time. I knew this, but now I know this: the TV is a babysitter when I'm catching up with house work or assisting the girls with their studies. (Ouch. That hurt.) Now, do you know what? This is a hard time of the day for Charlie. He's not napping anymore but is still tired, grumpy, and therefore doesn't handle things well and makes bad choices. He gets into trouble because quite frankly I have not trained him properly. He does not know what to do with himself in the afternoon without the mind-numbing, hypnotic effects of the TV and we are reaping what I have sown.

Next, I injured my foot working in the garage wearing flip flops two weeks ago. Duh. In the first few hours it became clear to everyone (including myself--you know that "did I accomplish anything at all today" feeling?) just what mom does around here. I cannot put any weight on the pad of my foot so I have limped through the last two weeks trying to keep up with the kids, the laundry, the house, etc. I've been to the urgent care and the family doctor with no relief what so ever. Yesterday I made an appointment with a podiatrist and was told to keep my foot elevated above my heart, stay off my feet, apply ice, etc. The girls have really stepped up. They are preparing meals for each other, keeping things picked up, playing with Charlie, and in general being my feet and legs. They are amazing. As is my husband. By his example, he sets the standard in our home (and sets it high) for hard work and sacrifice. I don't know what I'd do without any of them. Now the cool thing is what I did yesterday (cool for me, but not everyone else who has to take up my slack). In the absence of TV I had to figure out what to do with myself when I can't do anything. So I read the book of Acts and the book of Job, I memorized nearly all of Psalm 51, I prayed often, I listened to a Paul Washer sermon (Regneration v. The Idolatry of Decisional "Evangelism"), I folded two loads of laundry, and tatted two snowflakes. I will admit that at one point in the afternoon I felt really bored and restless and was wishing for some Love Boat reruns or Matlock or something (hey, the standards were low, OK? I would have even settled for some old Bob Ross episodes). It's really hard for a gal like me, who usually ends the day by trying to remember when she actually sat down, to take the time I need to heal, to allow others to take care of me (and not feel too guilty about it), to be quiet and still.

Remember that Annie Keary quote from Elizabeth Elliot's book Keeping a Quiet Heart?

I think I find most help in trying to look on all the interruptions and hindrances to work that one has planned out for oneself as discipline, trials sent by God to help one against getting selfish over ones' work. Then one can feel that perhaps one's true work--one's work for God--consists in doing some trifling haphazard thing that has been thrown into one's day. It is not a waste of time, as one is tempted to think, it is the most important part of the work of the day--the part one can best offer to God. After such a hindrance, do not rush after the planned work; trust that the time to finish it will be given sometime, and keep a quiet heart about it. Annie Keary, 1825-1879