Lord God Almighty please help me as time continues to smoosh.
Summer is ending, and yet is is also the thousandth day of March.
I’ll wake up on Monday, know that’s it’s Monday (I did do church yesterday, though now it’s different).
I’ll do my chores, maybe find fifteen minutes to exercise and then set my kids up for their activities–and cross my fingers that they will last them awhile.
Then I will sit down at my computer to work and cram in as much productive time that I can.
Then I’ll sigh, and realize I’ve forgotten to turn in an article, or are late for my kid’s counseling or have missed someone’s zoom meeting or training.
Because my heart and soul didn’t know it was Monday. My mind knew, but my soul is in denial.
Because Monday is not that important in the grand scheme of things. And I remain in crises mode, my alarms going off for the pandemic and the injustices of the world and not for the mundanities of life.
My ADHD family and friends say this is how time works for them on most days.
It’s non-linear non-subjective; more like a wobbly wobbly time-wimey stuff. I am stuck in the ball of time stuff.
Appointments are hazy at best, and I can’t remember things from before the pandemic. Lord help me to hold onto the things I need to and let go of the things I don’t need.
And clocks are tricksy.
And the end of the day drags on and on, so long that it is hard to get anything done. Why is that?
Help me to stop doom scrolling. Remind me to take a walk, to sit in the sun, to pause to do something fun.
Help me to remember it’s Monday, as best I can. And to practice self-grace when I can’t–and when others can’t as well.
Help me to set the alarms I need.
And help me to worry less about time, and be in the moment, when I can. I pray.
Amen.
Feel free to use or adapt with credit to Pastor Katy Stenta