Priorities
I had coffee with a friend this week who told me about moving into her new rental after her old rental had a tree dropped through the middle of it, effectively destroying 80% of their household goods. She said her first day in the new rental she looked around her home, empty except for a set of bar stools and a hutch she had managed to salvage, and knew that the first thing she needed to buy was, not couches or a bed, but a coffee pot. Priorities.
In crisis situations, we discover what really matters to us. As the kids and I drove towards base our first day, they exclaimed that the Little Caesars appeared to have survived. I laughed with them, responding with, "Well, then, we'll be just fine, won't we?!" only to drive closer and realize that while the building was still there, what was left of it was definitely boarded up and empty. We laughed again and said, "And we'll still be fine! Even without five dollar pizza!"
When the Man and I went through the house after the hurricane, trying to decide what we should put in the storage unit versus what we would need at the RV, it was hard to know what should go where. The rice cooker stayed behind; the instant pot came (because I can make rice in that too). The waffle maker was stored; the griddle was a necessity. The shoe stand stayed; over the door hooks had to come. Every item was a decision. And most of them haven't been second guessed.
When we first started looking at trailers, the first one I looked at had a bunk house and a kitchen and room for a washer/dryer (all high on my list of priorities). It was small, but in my mind, it was entirely doable. I had seen nothing else and was willing to do just about anything to be back together again, even do all my cooking prep on the dinner table. The Man tried to assure me that there were bigger options--and he was right. He was thinking long term. I was thinking togetherness (and didn't realize that there were options that included togetherness and not being packed in like sardines).
I was really ruthless when picking what should come with us. And it's paid off. We actually still have a little extra storage space, for which I'm grateful. It makes me feel like there is room to breath. And I have even managed an entire drawer just for chocolate, because again: priorities. Chocolate = sanity, of which there is always short supply.
I've seen my priorities manifested in so many different ways these last few weeks. When you have a washer/dryer that only takes small loads and takes six hours to finish a full load, you suddenly prioritize getting the next load in quickly (preferably before the load that just finished is full of wrinkles). When you only have a certain amount of hot water, doing assembly line speed showers seems the only way to go. When you have no dishwasher and little counter space, the dishes get washed immediately (sometimes while half the family is still eating), dried, and put away instead of making permanent homes in your sink and drying rack. When there is no grassy yard or structurally sound playground or even stairs to run up and down, you have your kids challenge their Tennessee cousins to see who can run a mile faster, and run the gravel loop of Fam Camp together, the one year old bouncing on your back in the Ergo while you try not to look like a complete idiot. You look like a complete idiot anyway--and it doesn't really matter any more.
But the truth is that you don't have to go through a crisis situation or live in a season of scarcity (or smallness) in order to discover your true priorities. You just have to pay attention. The problem is that most of us don't like to pay attention until we really have to. We prefer to keep going through the motions in our comfortable--or sometimes just busy--lives without really reflecting on whether or not the mundanities of our life reflect what we say truly matters to us. Many of us use this time of year to reflect on who we truly are and who we actually want to be. May I suggest that we use a little of our time to actually assess where our priorities lie? Not what we say our priorities are, but what they actually show themselves to be? Let's pay attention to where our time is going, where our money is spent, where our energy gets used up, what items are taking up space in our homes... And if things don't line up with what we really want our priorities to be, maybe we can shake things up a bit. Set that alarm a little earlier (maybe bribe yourself with an illuminated Bible and some quality colored pencils), schedule that babysitter for a date night, pull out those running shoes, take a nap with the toddler, dust off your library card, clean out that junk drawer...and maybe fill it up with chocolate instead.
In crisis situations, we discover what really matters to us. As the kids and I drove towards base our first day, they exclaimed that the Little Caesars appeared to have survived. I laughed with them, responding with, "Well, then, we'll be just fine, won't we?!" only to drive closer and realize that while the building was still there, what was left of it was definitely boarded up and empty. We laughed again and said, "And we'll still be fine! Even without five dollar pizza!"
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| Blythe...not capable of surviving without five dollar pizza. |
When we first started looking at trailers, the first one I looked at had a bunk house and a kitchen and room for a washer/dryer (all high on my list of priorities). It was small, but in my mind, it was entirely doable. I had seen nothing else and was willing to do just about anything to be back together again, even do all my cooking prep on the dinner table. The Man tried to assure me that there were bigger options--and he was right. He was thinking long term. I was thinking togetherness (and didn't realize that there were options that included togetherness and not being packed in like sardines).
I was really ruthless when picking what should come with us. And it's paid off. We actually still have a little extra storage space, for which I'm grateful. It makes me feel like there is room to breath. And I have even managed an entire drawer just for chocolate, because again: priorities. Chocolate = sanity, of which there is always short supply.
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| This kid prioritizes getting her way at all times. It's almost like she's about to turn two... |
But the truth is that you don't have to go through a crisis situation or live in a season of scarcity (or smallness) in order to discover your true priorities. You just have to pay attention. The problem is that most of us don't like to pay attention until we really have to. We prefer to keep going through the motions in our comfortable--or sometimes just busy--lives without really reflecting on whether or not the mundanities of our life reflect what we say truly matters to us. Many of us use this time of year to reflect on who we truly are and who we actually want to be. May I suggest that we use a little of our time to actually assess where our priorities lie? Not what we say our priorities are, but what they actually show themselves to be? Let's pay attention to where our time is going, where our money is spent, where our energy gets used up, what items are taking up space in our homes... And if things don't line up with what we really want our priorities to be, maybe we can shake things up a bit. Set that alarm a little earlier (maybe bribe yourself with an illuminated Bible and some quality colored pencils), schedule that babysitter for a date night, pull out those running shoes, take a nap with the toddler, dust off your library card, clean out that junk drawer...and maybe fill it up with chocolate instead.
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| Some of us also prioritize happy skunk socks.. |
