The country song has it right: “You never really love someone until they’re gone.” I’m having a realization that this song is probably written about school cubbies. Now that they’re gone, I’ve never loved them more.
We’re just a few weeks into virtual school with four elementary-aged kids at home and stuff is everywhere. I’m staring at my countertops all covered in chargers and keyboards and iPads, dry erase boards and all the pieces for crafts that must be saved for a certain date in the unforeseeable future.
The other morning my oldest daughter decided she was over it too. She grabbed all her belongings to keep them with her. But when she forcibly tried to cram them all in, she broke the zipper on her brand-new backpack. When I asked her what happened, she looked up at me through her tears and said, “I think I’m just angry.”
We miss school cubbies.
The truth is, I’m angry, too. I’m trying to hold it together but it’s leaking out of me like a pipe that’s about to burst. First, I rage-cleaned my garage and basement. That’s fine. But then at a soccer game, I clapped back at a kindergartener who was telling her grandma that my dog bites. It wasn’t until after I snapped in a sharp tone, “She does not bite!” (from quite a distance I might add) that I realized I might have a problem. Defending my puppy’s honor to a five-year-old is a pretty embarrassing thing to do. But, more importantly, it’s not who I want to be.
So here we are. Some of us are breaking zippers and some of us are snapping at random kindergarteners. A lot of us are needing extra grace these days for being a little on edge.
“What do you do with the mad that you feel?”
For the full article, go to The Crossing Church Blog.