There. I said it.
What triggered this was a trip to the beach over the weekend. Sounds like fun, right? Well, I was the unwilling participant. After we just returned from Guatemala, my ds and ddil arrived from Canada with visions of a long weekend at the beach with us as a family. It is always fun at the beach – if only it weren’t such a long and barfy road to get there and back.
The beach is only “this” far on the map, but with all the mountains and curves, it takes a full seven hours unless you fly. It’s one thing to suffer “for the gospel” when going out to a village to do something worthwhile, but somehow I can’t make myself do it as willingly for something that should be enjoyable. Being in a vehicle with seven sunburned family members being pushed into each other for seven hours…Face it - it’s character building.
Arriving home after such a nauseating drive, there is the car to be unloaded, fishy smelling laundry to be washed and hung out on the clothesline, supper to be fixed, and of course the mandatory trip to the tienda for milk, eggs, and bread. That’s the moment when I want to collapse. Everything in me wants to give up, but I am not allowed. (Others did.)
That night I was the last one to bed, and the next morning I was almost the first one up. (Dh was the first responder to the alarm clock.) After getting ds off to school (speaking of sacrifices – poor kid!), I spent some nice quality time alone with the Lord and got my heart straightened out. It’s all good.
Again I have love, grace, and joy to conquer the challenges of having three grown kids home when it’s technically not the holidays any more, and home schooling and other responsibilities face me. My question for you: how do you continue with life while you have houseguests? Any tips? Suggestions?
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