The 10am sun illuminated the west wall of our tiny balcony off the shared bedroom.
“Oh good – our clothes will dry before we need to pack up tonight,” I thought to myself. “Don’t forget to grab your pants out there.”
Clothes dryers have been non-existent on our World Race journey so we’ve always been at the mercy of the clothesline.
I slid off the bed and went to the kitchen to get a cup of coffee.
To be honest, my mood was crappy.
I’ve been living in this two bedroom apartment with six other people for a few weeks. My mind had been spinning with questions and thoughts about transitioning home to Canada. I feel like I need to verbally process – but am concerned that mostly toxic words would spill out at this point. Lack of personal space is a challenge for this atmosphere-sensitive-introvert sometimes, even with near-mastery skills of keeping myself balanced.
I’d taken an opportunity to have the apartment mostly to myself this morning.
I turned on some worship music, cozied up in the bedroom alone, and began working on the list of things Papa had given me to do over the last couple of days – trying to remedy the heaviness I felt.
If anything, over many years of house-mate life, being married, and now the Race – I have learned a few things about battling my own frustrations and moods to protect the family I live with.
Today was one of those days.
Back to the sunny clothesline and kitchen.
“How do I battle this heaviness I am feeling, Papa?“
Suddenly a pile of wet laundry left in the washing machine caught my eye.
“Oh,” was all I said.
Let’s be real. I took my coffee back to the bedroom, sat down on the edge of the bed, and stared at the sunlight glinting off the clothesline wires while thinking:
“It’s their own fault for not thinking ahead. Those clothes won’t dry by tonight if they don’t get back and hang them soon. Shouldn’t they experience their own consequences?”
I sensed Papa raising an eyebrow at me.
“But they’ve been tough to be around lately…but maybe I have been too…. Sheesh, Papa…is this the best way to battle the atmosphere in the apartment…and the atmosphere in me right now?!”
I sensed a smiled.
I mentally stuffed a sock in my selfish thoughts, got the wet clothes and hung them up to dry – watching them lazily blow in the warm, sunny breeze.
Who knew that some damn laundry would be Papa’s method of choice to discipline my unruly heart and mind today.
Over the years I’ve learned that there are times when it is better to just shut up and serve the people I live with.
Not because I am “letting them win” or because I am too scared to confront an issue.
And not because I am trying to guilt-trip them, or be passive-aggressive about unspoken offences.
I’ve learned that people always behave the way they do for a reason –
And I’ve decided that I want to behave like I do because of WHO lives in me.
I’ve learned that the best way for me to combat discouragement is to encourage…
To come against frustration and offence by first spending time discovering what I need, and then deciding if a conversation needs to happen…
And in the case of today: coming against my own fears of returning home looks like loving the family I currently live with.
Who knew hanging up someone else’s laundry would win a battle against fear , selfishness, and toxic thoughts.
Isn’t God funny!?!
