What’s Got you Spinning?
When we are forced to grow up and get up, we hit the snooze alarm a time or two. Or three on the days we think we can get away with it.
I wonder if there is a support group for moms who have to rise and shine when there are no longer children who depend on you to rise and shine, make breakfast, sign school papers and referee early morning fights over the bathroom.
This morning I hit the snooze a solid four times. In the middle of a wonderful dream, I kept wanting to get back to, I laid there, Sleeping Beauty-like if only she had drool running out the side of her mouth and a tank top with straps that sometimes strangled her in the middle of the night.
I love to read Sleeping Beauty. I am always awed by her father’s determination to keep her safe and protected. But having all the spinning wheels burned meant she would never get to do it and I thought it looked super fun.
That was before I knew how exhausting spinning can be.
We found ourselves walking in circles in the neighborhood on 29th Street, searching for a few of the most random things I’ve ever had to look for. A thimble and spool of thread.
When I was in high school and even later, for my own girls, we would have parties and play games. I love the team building kind and especially liked separating into competing teams for a scavenger hunt.
My mom or I would make a list of several items that each team would have to find by knocking on doors, talking to neighbors and being resourceful. When the girls got older, they thought it was stupid and just wanted to stay in the pool.
I don’t think I ever wrote thimble on their list because it was the one item that kept our team from winning in 1983 as I recall. Not many households had extra thimbles laying around and no one wants to part with a Monopoly piece.
“We’re on a scavenger hunt for my birthday. Do you have a thimble?”
“Let me see…” the old lady replied as she took a hundred story book years to check her sewing box, while we all stood on the porch, impatiently tapping our feet and shifting from side to side.
“I’m sorry. I thought I had one, but I guess not. Would you like to come…”
“Nope. It’s a race. Gotta run! Thank you!”
Door after door we knocked and knocked hoping to find the things on our list.
Can of corn
Door after door, no one had a thimble.
I’m not sure why I remembered our scavenger hunts the other day. It popped into my head as random as the list my mom handed us at my birthday party 35 years ago.
Maybe it’s because of my anxiety and my own spinning. Maybe God wanted to remind me that I don’t have to go door knocking or searching for the things I need. When I used to run hard and fast after the things I thought I needed, it usually led to disappointment and danger.
At times, I’ve found myself spinning out of control with the forgotten wheel at the top of the castle.
God waits for me by the calming waters of the moat below now. The one I probably dredged on my own, determined to keep going around and around in circles for far too long. It’s what we do. We pick up the phone, we get in our car and drive to a friend’s house, we ask everyone we know how, or where we can find that thing we need.
Love, acceptance, strength, peace, honesty.
That thing that covers and protects the most sensitive parts of us.
Where ever you are, that’s right where it is.