The other day, I read a devotional about a woman who was widowed at a young age. When asked how she got through those painful days in the months to follow her loss, she said that she just did "whatever came next." Whether it was washing dishes, doing laundry, reading to a child, she would just do it, and soon she would find that she worked her way through the tough moment or day.
I've been struggling here. The pain, anger, frustration and exhaustion from this entire adoption fiasco feels like a huge leech that has attached itself to my neck and is slllooowwwwly sucking the life out of me. So I've made "Do what comes next" my motto for now. I'm trying to throw myself into my kids and home, stay off the computer (except for blogging) and stop obsessing with what is happening in Haiti at the moment.
When we woke up and left Camp, I purposely did not feed us breakfast beforehand. Instead "what came next" was that we went to a local strawberry farm and went a-picking. We stuffed ourselves with the most plump, juicy, exquisitely red strawberries we could find, enjoying every bit of this rare and wonderful breakfast.
Both Hatfield and Atticus were extended invitations to join the dance studio's Competition Troupe. Atticus is now a proud member of the Petite Troupe, and Hatfield joined the Rising Star Troupe. As a result, "what comes next" very often translates to "go to dance practice."
"What comes next" fortunately does not have to be all mundane. In the past week, we've had a grand time celebrating Hatfield's 11th birthday and my Grandma's 88th birthday We spent the weekend at Camp and swam in the lake for the first time this season. "What comes next later today will be downloading the bulk of photos on my camera from these good times, and taking some time to prepare for future good times with the upcoming holiday weekend.
At the moment, little Miss Paloma is requesting some bacon. Gag. But, I guess that is what comes next. I also spy an unloaded dishwasher, a stinky dog and a basket of laundry needing attention. Those things will take me through until later this morning, when it's time to load up the crew for dance lessons. And after all of that is said and done, 15 pounds of strawberries await my cleaning, freezing, jam-making, pie-baking powers.
Life goes on. Step by step. Even if it's only focusing on the smallest of things that come next.