Dirty dishes: Your habits will tell on you.

Writing 2 Minutes

My dishes have been in limbo, the past few days.

They are either rinsed and ready to be put in the dishwasher. Or, found sitting in hot sudsy water waiting to be handwashed. Sadly, the hot sudsy water finds itself turned into cold, pitiful, no longer sudsy icky goo I ain’t sticking my hands in….*shiver*.

So, I find myself dumping out said ew, either starting AGAIN…*sigh*…with hot sudsy water, determined to get these blasted things washed. Only, to turn back into cold, pitiful, I ain’t sticking my hands in that cold grey matter ooze.

To make matters worse, now the dishes have really piled up as of course I have eaten and added more dirty dishes to the pile.

Our habits, though, will tell on us. Thankfully, I have been cultivating and making out with good habits. Have kicked my old lover, old habits, to the curb. Alas, old habits are hard to break. Or, so they try and tell me.

Yet, even old habits can be helpful. Their re-entry signals that something may, and is, amiss. After sitting down and having a super long chat with old habits, we both agreed that I was covering up missing my mom and hiding in an old familiar cave of “suck it up buttercup”. Decided to leave the cave and give myself permission and space to just…miss her.

Not in a melancholy way. But, a she sure was fun and a good person kind of way. I let sad join me and grief and we shared some tears, some laughs, some decaf(another story for another post) and had a good time. So much so that Jesus brought mom and we all had some great laughs.

Then, new habits and I did what was needed:

Took out the trash.

Washed the dishes.

Exercised a bit.

Wrote a bit.

Chillaxed a bit.

A bit, at a time, I found my heart warming, once again. Basking, in the sunlight of honesty, tears, truth, trust, hope and love.

Trust, in God. Trusting enough to share how much life was hurting.

Trust, in Life. Trusting enough to let Life know how much not being able to do as my heart longs to do was hurting.

Trust, in ME. Trusting enough to let myself be honest with my heart, with myself. Trusting enough to admit that I was already in the dark place and space I was desperately trying to work away, distract away, sleep away, all manner of away. Until, I allowed myself to speak the truth outloud:

Father, I am in a dark place. I am in a dark space. I don’t know how. I don’t know what. I don’t know when. Not knowing is the problem. Yet, You are The Answer.

*Cassandra climbs down from The Father’s Lap, after having shared her heart, and got on with the getting on of life*

What’s the moral of the story, you ask?

You tell me. I don’t have time. I have dishes to wash. Let me know your thoughts, eh?

rejoicing even in grief,

Cassandra

P.S. I love you mom. I miss you. Be well, my queen….*sigh*.

Note: Don’t allow hard times, sad times, mad times, or any other times to keep you from keeping on. Keep doing you. Rest, when you need to. Cry, when you need to. Be sure and pack plenty of joy, though, in your day. We get but one go around this joint called life. Live. Love. Laugh. I love me some you. Love me back, wouldja please/thanks? Asking for a Friend.

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Published by Cassandra S.

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