Saturday, June 26, 2010


I've been working on trinity shakespeare festival for 7 weeks now. That's about 50 days. That's far too many hours in each day spent thinking about petty things like merchandise sales and bed linens.

It has significantly decreased the size of my perceivable world.

I saw one of my dearest friends yesterday, and all I could think to say to her was something along the lines of "The world is going to end tomorrow night if we don't have skittles for concessions. ANGRY PATRONS, LINDSAY! WE CANNOT HAVE ANGRY SKITTLE-LESS PATRONS!!!"

And she thought I was bonkers I'm sure. Because I was so dead serious.

This makes me so sad for my state of being. I know the world is much bigger than that. I know there are literally billions of things that are INFINITELY more important than, say, skittles sales. Things more important being hungry children in India, my friend who is in the woods being a camp counselor for the summer, my sister who is another year older as of yesterday, a giant stupid oil spill that's destroying our gulf, and most importantly, the loving God who has even these things under His divine control. But for that one brief instant (and for far too many of those brief instances over the past 50 days) I have inconveniently forgotten the very very important fact that the world I live in does not revolve around ceramic Shakespeare quote mugs.

So I'm leaving. I'm going to San Francisco. I'm going to watch fireworks there and marvel at them like a child. I'm going to go look at redwood trees that are mind-blowingly old and wise, and I'm going to be put in my place by the great big God who created those big lovely trees (and little ole me).

I now realize why there are so many mommy-blogs out there. They're desperately needed as an outlet to get rid of all of the PTA gossip, the homework assignments, the "mommy, he stole my lego spaceship wing!" and the spilled milk in order to re-prioritize to see that those things just don't matter. Those HAVE to be gotten rid of in order to make space in mom-brains for the important things like how to know when to sing "Jesus loves me this I know, for the Bible tells me so..." at just the right time and how to console a 12-year-old girl who is being told by this mean world that she isn't allowed to be the awkward pre-teen that she may inherently be (it's a phase, I swear).

So, I salute you, mommy-blogs, and though I don't understand you (not having ever procreated, and all), I thank you for not getting sucked into the minute details of this weird world and taking all of that junk that you seem to have to hold onto too seriously.

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