Last summer my children spent ten days on the family farm.  It was the longest time I had ever been away from them, but I had very little guilt about their trip.  My in-laws packed each day with outings, games, and memories.  When it was time for the kids to come home, David and Durenda made photo albums for each child that highlighted different times on the farm – playing in the barn, visiting relatives, and going to the fair.

While they were gone, I completely reorganized my house.  I dug into closets, bagged up old clothes and toys, swept out the garage, and wiped out each cupboard.   My house has never been in such fabulous shape.  I had days of uninterrupted time to finally “catch up” on all the work that I never have time to do.  It was heaven; I felt giddy with every new trash bag that I took to the dump.

This summer looks so much different.  David is gone.  Durenda sends my children letters in the mail counting down the days for “their annual summer trip to Indiana”.

“They can’t come by themselves, Mom,” Hugh has tried to tell his mom, “especially with Jess being sick.   We just can’t swing it.”

Although I don’t feel good, I still decided to embark on a big project this summer.  It didn’t seem big at first, especially with my best friend heading up the painting and decorating.  But over the last seven days, I have gotten increasingly frustrated at how little I can do with RA.

Last summer I could move boxes, bag clothes, and spend sixteen hours a day working on my house.

This summer I am tired if I go to Target and try to make dinner.  My aching joints remind me that I am not strong, after all.

Last summer my father-in-law drove ten hours one way every few weeks to see his three grandchildren.

This summer feels empty.

But I know there is life right now, too.  I have to hope that there is joy to be found in my new limitations.  The pausing and the “less able to do”  will somehow make me richer in spirit and closer to the heartbeat of Jesus.

Jesus could do anything, but He spent a lot of His time listening, hanging out with His disciples, and talking about His Father.  He didn’t spend hours organizing his stuff; He was too busy building relationships.

A little like my father-in-law, really.

Suddenly life seems more hopeful and full of potential.  I can’t move bags, but I can hug my kids.  I can’t cook a big dinner, but I can make a salad and listen to Hugh tell me about work.

Instead of focusing on what I can’t do, I want to focus on the things God is putting in front of me.  Right now, in this moment.

This summer.

A summer of possibility.

I am really, really nervous about this week.  The next few days is “HUGE PROJECT TIME” at our house and I am a little panicked.

Here is the list:

1. Move all children temporarily downstairs (sleeping bags, a few toys, small tv, etc…)
2. Tape off two upstairs bedrooms
3. Move furniture out of both bedrooms
4. Organize all toys, etc…
5. Paint bedrooms
6. Set up new rooms with new (well, “newly brought in from garage and spray-painted”) bunk beds
7. Buy needed mattress, bedding, desk for Jon-David’s room
8. Take four million black bags to dump/Goodwill
9. Organize all books on new Ikea shelves.

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!

I can do this. Breathe, Jess, breathe.

Actually, Amanda is doing most of the painting and moving. Hugh is taping off the rooms. Beth is helping me with organizing.

So I should be calm.

But I haven’t ever tried to get a big project done while operating at my new RA normal. And my new RA normal is about 30 percent energy.

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!

Okay. I’m going to drink another cup of coffee, reread my list, take another breath, and try to keep this in perspective.

It’s going to be fine.

*I’ll post some “after” pictures in a few days showcasing Amanda’s excellent decorating ability. I will not show “before” pictures because I DON’T WANT TO.

1. Go to Target and spend forty dollars on new Play-Doh.

2. Set up the play table in bathroom for easy clean-up.

3. Instruct children to play with Play-Doh for at least eight hours.

4. Occasionally yell at children to play nicely.

5. When the children are done playing, promptly forget about the huge mess in your bathroom until the next day.

(Repeat at needed throughout July and August.)

*Note the Tampons and US Weekly in the background…Also, the lack of toilet paper. Yes, this picture sums up my life.