Consider the Lilies

I cannot get it together today.  I feel horrible and the day is dragging and the office is freezing and I'm just ready to go home.

Here's my week, in a nutshell:

J has a double ear infection.  I thought it was teething.  We all did.  Orajel, by the way, doesn't fix pressure on the ear drums.

I had to interview for MY OWN JOB on Friday of last week.  It was supposed to be a formality, so an interview would be on the books. To keep my boss out of trouble so that if I ever lose my mind and screw things up royally, he can say that he did his best.  An informal, protocol interview turned into a panel interview.  That lasted almost an hour. 

Good news, though, I got the job!  Yes that's right.  The job I have been doing solo for a month now.  The job I've technically been doing since last August.  It's fine though.  Except I was really pissed.

During the not-teething-but-ear-infection-sleepless-weekend J and I just had, I pulled a muscle in my neck/trapezius area.  That special muscle, which helps you turn your head from side to side.  Woke up yesterday morning in almost blinding pain and have been wearing icy hot patches ever since. 

More good news.  I got my raise yesterday.  The one I was sure I was going to have to fight tooth and nail to get.  It's not much.  I still won't be able to pay for childcare this summer.  But it's better than before.  And really, I guess unless you are changing positions or companies altogether, promotional raises don't really change your paycheck.  Not when you're a social worker.

Tomorrow is the big day.  I called and fussed at my attorney's assistant yesterday because I can't get a hold of my attorney.  Poor girl.  I think maybe I should have been an attorney -- but then I believe I'd only get more annoyed with the petty shit people bring to the table.  When there are murders to be solved and rapists to imprison and terrorists to sentence... I'd be more than a few shades of pissed about a custody case like mine.  Eh.  But that's if I was an attorney.  Which I'm not.  So answer the damn phone. 

I woke up yesterday morning and saw a lawn care service sign, and all it read was: "Consider the Lilies".  I knew exactly what I was supposed to take away from that.  So was I surprised when things went a little more smoothly yesterday?  No.  Was I surprised that my day came together after a sleepless night of praying... for affirmation, for provision, for direction?  Not at all. 

Am I heartbroken that the one prayer, which consistently does not get answered, is the one for companionship?  Am I lonely beyond expression?  Do I look at my life and sometimes wonder why anyone would choose to walk into this mess and do I resent him with every fibre of my being for making mine and Judah's lives more complicated?

Absolutely.

So what do you do with a Tuesday?  A torn trapezius, an empty bank account, a looming 25th birthday, an empty bed, empty cupboards, a 7 month old on an antibiotic, a demanding, poor paying job, and an approaching court date?

What do I do with the lack of hope in my heart for this prayer that remains on the tip of my tongue?  

Because Don said it best.  I just want someone to watch TV before bed with.  Someone to say goodnight to.  Someone to make dinner for.  Someone, during weeks like this, who will be a source of quiet strength.  Someone to defend me when I feel like I'm in this corner alone.  Someone to protect Judah and me when it feels like the world's crashing in.  Someone who misses us.

But there's an honest, raw, part of me which truly does not believe it will ever happen.

So I stretch this torn muscle.  Sign the paperwork.  Make the phone calls.  Rock my sweet little boy.  And consider the lilies.

Just hoping, praying, with everything I have left that what it is we're hoping for... is just right around the corner.