When Life Doesn’t Look How We Think It Should
It started one morning after breakfast, when I was still a little tired from the night. I had poured my first cup of coffee and made it yummy with cream. I was sipping, pacing, trying to figure out how the day should go. I really stink at schedules, so I usually put something together the morning of.
Almost every morning since my second child was born, I have come to face a conundrum. I am almost never ready when my kids wake up. And the mornings when I happen to plan, often just get stomped all over. Are mornings rough for you too?
It seems that mornings go well when I walk directly to the couch, maybe with some dry cereal or snacks, and my children follow, and we read or we play Scrabble. We’re close and cozy and it’s wonderful. Those are the best mornings, but they aren’t always a reality.
The other day, after a hectic breakfast with far too much noise, my children plopped themselves down and tore through the boxes that line our dining room walls. I have prepared these boxes by filling them with things for my kids to do, but it is up to them to find them and use them. Inside these boxes, my children find first-step reading books, a bag of pompoms, a game of Connect Four, dominoes, and always a few random things that have spilled out from their bedroom. This day, they went to the boxes and played. They got along. They were quiet. They were happy, and so was I. And even though the floor was reminiscent of something Kevin McCallister might set up for The Wet Bandits, my home was peaceful, and I realized something:
Sometimes peace looks like chaos.
And after I wrote that sentence down, all of these other beautiful, mind-boggling sentences came rushing from my heart, down my arm, into my pen. Here they are:
Sometimes love looks like a splinter.
Sometimes brotherhood looks like death.
Sometimes fun is messy.
Sometimes rest is sweaty.
Sometimes success looks like failure.
Sometimes pancakes look like birds.
Sometimes playing looks like war.
Sometimes happiness looks like melancholy.
Sometimes a treat looks like a strawberry.
Sometimes opportunity looks like an invitation.
Sometimes blessings look like trials.
Sometimes friendship looks like a voyage.