I have been having trouble getting to the blog lately. Part of it is the business of running a family. Another part has been adjusting to the new demands of being sandwiched. Part of it, too, has been the demands of summer on a small farm, but most of it has been an inability to harness the thought process.
I sit down to the computer and have been unable to string a complete thought onto the screen. The words unravel and disperse into half formed sentences and awkward punctuation that only gets worse with editing. I know what I want to say, but I can't seem to spit it out.
My marriage is often like that. I get so distracted and busy, exhausted and pulled taut that every time I sit down to talk with my husband, nothing coherent comes out. I gibber on about this issue or that problem. I spout on about half formed plans. I blather around instead of talking about anything that fundamentally matters: our family, God, each other.
It's as if the distractions of every day life can act like a virus on the relationship. Busy-ness worms its way into the DNA of the day and writes its own code there, throwing us into a fever of activity and fretfulness.
The man's got a great set of shoulders to cry on, I can't imagine why I don't lean on them more. Over 13 years ago I signed on the dotted line to become a partner with him, what makes me insist upon so much self reliance? Pride, I'll bet. Lack of trust? I think I need to bring that question to Confession.
I'll do that as soon as I get my man to hold me up awhile.