Tip of My Iceberg

We’re living in a time when being a professional juggler might be to our advantage.

School is beginning in many areas, and figuring out which option to choose for educating your children may take a dozen increasingly challenging decisions to make:

Do I let them be face-to-face with other students and teachers whom I have no control over how they’ve taken care of themselves?

Do I make them sit at home in front of a computer for hours on end, trying to focus when I can’t focus for more than an hour without getting antsy?

Is homeschool our only best option? And what about work? How do I work and still help with my children’s education?

It doesn’t end with education. Figuring out how to keep yourself and those you love safe and healthy without feeling isolated, lonely, and depressed takes serious choices. Dealing kindly with others when your own emotions are scattered like the wind across the spectrum of feelings takes intent. Having job situations existing on the precipice–not sure if it will tip over to its demise or roll back to safety–is a challenge when you’re trying to provide for yourself and your family.

And every day it seems life is throwing one more ball for you to keep in the air.

As a child, I was fascinated with jugglers. Their ability to keep so many things airborne was a skill set I wanted to have.

I tried it. I’d watched enough jugglers that I believed I could do it.

It’s never as easy as it looks.

I worked at it. I could never get the hang of having them all in the air at once.

That’s not true. I could do it with one ball. Two were difficult. Three were impossible.

Like any skill, it takes time to learn to juggle. There’s balance, keeping your eye on the balls, being aware of what’s coming at you. Some are more adept at it than others. Practice is the only way to improve.

I’ve never felt the need to understand how to juggle as much as I have lately. And I’ve raised six kids, all who played soccer, so juggling schedules and time was something I did.

The emotional stakes have increased. The confusion, despair, and anger that has spread globally have undone our systems, our ways of coping, our old methods of juggling.

But God.

My tendency is to think ahead of what might be, what I need to do to prepare for what I’m not sure will happen. To figure out how to fix what is so broken in my day-to-day experience.

To fix my reality, I’d have to fix the world. I don’t have the skillset, power, or the authority to do that.

I can focus on changing myself.

With the help of the One who knows me and loves me best.

I can’t fix the world, but I can overhaul my heart with His truth and love. I can find security in His permanence, His power, and presence in my life.

When I drop a ball, it won’t be the end of the world.

He helps me pick it up and move on.