When it rains, it pours.

It's been a dry summer here in upstate New York. April showers brought May flowers as usual but since then it's been dry enough to kill all the grass in sight. And for anyone who knows my strange addictions, you know I'm just praying that the pumpkin harvest will still be successful this year.

But for the last week or so it's been raining like crazy. It's like somehow the clouds just stored it up for months and are finally letting it all out. I know how that feels. I'm a stuffer. I can plug it up and hold it in until I get so full I just bust. And it's all kinds of ugly.

That was like this summer for us. It started out pretty uncertain, but slow. We had a child "on the way" through adoption (not a specific child but just the possibility looming over us), we were moving but we didn't know where, Joe was changing jobs but we had no idea what the heck he actually did for a living (ok that was just me, and maybe still is). So we lived in this state of uncertainty but nothing was really moving forward. Just a lot of waiting.

So then about a month ago my mom's fiance, Ron passed away. That was hard. And we bought a house. Not hard...exciting, but for a woman, that's an emotional investment just to try to think about making some strange house your home. Then we started packing. Not fun, but fine. Then last week came and we closed on the house. We bought a wonderful house with great "bones" in a neighborhood that we love but it really needed a lot of love and a little face-lift. So we spent a week letting other people watch the kids so that I could come and start painting as much as possible before we moved in. I would come during the day, and then come at night after the kids went to bed. And some nights I would stay home and Joe would go to the new house and bring tons of boxes and do some more painting. I didn't see my kids or my husband for a week and I was so off of my normal routine. And there are few things I love more than routine.

And we hired a dry wall guy. Worst experience ever. This guy stunk. At first I thought he was a bit like a good doctor with poor bedside manner...like he did good work but not so great with communication (as in, he didn't even show up or call a few times that he was supposed to come and he also flooded our basement without telling us. Oops, must have slipped his stupid mind). Then he finished...or actually, he just stopped coming and Joe fired him and the finished product isn't really that great. So we're hiring some more contractors to come and fix his "mistakes". Stressful.

And this Saturday Ron's son got married. It was a beautiful occasion and they are an amazing couple and I was so happy to see them on the happiest day of their lives, but it was a little difficult feeling the lack of Ron's presence at an event where he would have been so happy and proud. It was really difficult for my mom, which made me a little bit of a wreck on her behalf. She did pretty well but of course there were tough moments to get through but I was proud of her overall.

And one of my uncles lost his four year battle with cancer this week. We attended the calling hours on Sunday and the funeral mass yesterday (Monday). I will write more about those things later but these events came with some massive anxiety for me because my Uncle Doug is my dad's brother, which meant that of course my dad was going to be there and the idea of seeing him always makes me dig up all my defenses before I've even been attacked. My anxiousness about seeing my dad was only rivaled by my sadness for my Aunt and cousins who were grieving the loss of the strongest part of their family.

TOO. MUCH.

This all just got to be WAY too much for me. A dry summer interrupted by a solid week of rain. I had a meltdown. It wasn't pretty. I couldn't hold it together for my kids or my husband, I just broke under the weight of it all. And each of those issues in themselves would have been ok, I could have stuffed it and then let it out slowly but adding them all together in one week was just too stinkin much. I couldn't sift through it fast enough to keep up.

God was speaking to my heart, trying to remind me that paint colors are terribly trivial and that any house is a home as long as my family is there and that death is a certain part of life. But I was too full to listen. Way too full of worry and self interest and anxiety and all the things He tells me to throw away because they're a waste of my time. Will I ever listen?

"From the end of the earth I call to you

when my heart is overwhelmed.

Lead me to the Rock that is higher than I,

for you have been my refuge,

a strong tower against the enemy.

Let me dwell in your tent forever!

Let me take refuge under the shelter of your wings!"

-Psalm 61:2-4

But it's true that His joy comes with the morning. And today is a new day and we have a home to live in and I have a beautiful family and a God who holds me when it seems like I'm drowning in the downpour. It's still raining today but the boxing bell rang and I'm in my corner and I don't know if this will be a brief time-out or a nice long season of calm. But I do know that my hope endures and my God is the same today as he was yesterday and ten million years ago and the same as he will be tomorrow. Rain or shine.