Don’t Cry Over Spilled Milk

I try so hard. Oh, goodness, how I try. Now, my business mentor, Mr. Dockery, would tell me there is no “try” . . . there is only “do”. And I do understand what that means. But still, I try. First, though, if I can, let me share a couple of small (yet large for me) victories from my week before I begin to shame myself on the internet. For those keeping track, I received my hairspray in the mail in a nice, brown Amazon Prime box on Friday. I used a screwdriver (TWICE) and managed to walk away with all my fingers and even skin intact. And, maybe the biggest one, I didn’t cry once this week because I miss Ben. Even though his birthday was on Wednesday. That is probably the one that made me feel most accomplished this week. But, that all changed just a few short minutes ago. Wade made his famous chocolate chip pancakes on his Blackstone grill this morning before church. Oh, man, let me tell you, they are so good. Wade, Franklin and I ate and then went our separate ways to get ready for church. When we arrived home after going out to eat lunch after church, I started on my Sunday chores so that I could sit down and write this blog. For me, my Sunday chores include washing bedding. I grabbed our sheets and pillowcases as well as Franklin’s sheets and pillowcases and started the washing machine with them. I walked through the kitchen to get to the laundry room and saw things still left out after breakfast. I started the laundry and then headed to the kitchen so I could clean up after our breakfast this morning. I had just emptied the trash and placed it by the front door as Wade was going to take it out, well, because wasps. The butter and the syrup had not been put away after the last person used it. No biggie. I noticed there were a few pieces of trash on the counter (napkin and paper towel) and I grabbed them up to take to the front of the house where the trash sack had just been placed. I knew I was going by the refrigerator so I also grabbed the butter to put away. The ultimate multitasker, right? Well, the lid wasn’t on exactly tight and when I picked up the big, nearly full, family-sized (4 lb) tub of butter lifted in the air, past the counter top and then fell to the floor, the lid remaining in my hand. I had butter on my foot, leg and the floor. Lovely. I had the butter lid in one hand, the trash in the other and couldn’t move because I did not want to slip in the butter. I called for Wade who came and took the trash from me and gave me what I needed to clean myself. Then I cleaned the floor. It’s a tad slick still. But I may have found a new treatment for the rough skin on my feet. I’ll let you know. And just like that, the blog I had thought I would write gave way to a new subject. Not crying over splattered butter. 

There have been so many times in my life when things didn’t go according to Hoyle, or my plan, so to speak. Things just have a way of unraveling all on their own sometimes. I had planned Ben’s graduation party and my parent’s combined 80th birthday party this year. But, Covid. That threw so many curveballs into so many plans this year. I had to cancel both parties and then replan both parties. And you know what? Things went just fine. We made all the adjustments we needed, held them on back to back days, and saw and loved almost 200 people between both parties in just a couple days. But in the planning . . . both of them, both times . . . I realized that there are VERY few things we can actually control as humans. In fact, when we take an honest look, we really can’t control anything, can we? The only thing we CAN control is how we respond, react, and rebound to what does happen in life. 

For me, the most important thing is realizing that everything in life that comes to me has to pass through Jesus’ hands first. And even more than that, it has to pass through God’s hands also. The Bible is clear about that. In the Gospel of John, Jesus says that He holds us in His hand. He says that no one can snatch us out of His hand. And He goes further. He states that no one can snatch us out of His Father’s hand. In my simple mind, that means that both sets of hands are wrapped as tightly around us as a newborn is swaddled in a blanket. Oh, the safety and security of that thought! But, again, in my simple mind, if anything is going to touch us at all, it has to be allowed through the hands of Jesus and our Father. In other words, He will not allow something to happen to us that we cannot handle with Him. He will sustain us. If you are a parent you probably understand this better than most. We have all watched our children attempt something that we know is not going to end well for them. Now, certain things, I would step in and stop . . . fire, hot stovetop, electrical outlets, a fall from a height that would cause injury . . . but other things, I allowed because as inconvenient and painful as it might be it was a lesson they needed to learn. Nothing serious, mind you. Just small things that after they’d walked through it, we could then talk about and life lessons could be imparted. There are life lessons in everything. And believe me, my kids get tired of me pointing them out! My point is that God is there, He cares, and He will see us through. 

Sometimes, things in our life happen through no fault of our own. In those instances, I like the saying, “Not my circus. Not my monkeys.” Other times, we share culpability. You know, it’s been said in cases like these that, “It takes two to tango.” And the remaining portion of things that happen, are entirely our fault. Oh, sure, you can try the old Flip Wilson excuse, “The Devil made me do it.” Let me know how that one works out for you. Regardless of who’s to blame for the crap in our lives, we are usually the ones who have to clean it up. Just like the butter in my kitchen. Sometimes, the result of the problem can be cleaned with one wipe of a paper towel, other times, it might take the whole roll. Sometimes, we can use the good dish cloths for it and other times, it’s appropriate to employ a paper towel or rag we can just toss. Just depends on the mess, I guess. What I am trying to say is that there is not a typical, go-to way to handle every problem we come in contact with. I’ve never dropped butter before today, but figured that it would leave the floor rather slick even after applying the soapy water. I was right, and the family has been appropriately warned. But we are a resilient creation. We CAN figure out how to handle every bit of crap life tosses our way. We just have to use our God-given common sense and the problem solving techniques we have learned in our lives to figure it out. That doesn’t mean we won’t need to call on someone for help from time to time. I knew I needed help from Wade if I didn’t want to slip and slide my way to the counter before I could wipe my foot and leg off. But once there, I resolved the issue with ease. 

Some issues in life can set us back. But all of them can potentially set us up to be better equipped to deal with the next problem needing a solution or to help someone else navigate the issues we may have already journeyed through. Sometimes, things cross our paths even after we thought we had handled them and maybe even moved on from them; things we thought we had passed through and thought we had arrived on the other side safely and were done dealing with. Maybe not unscathed but safe. Life isn’t always fair. But, in the midst of those times, we have to remember that we conquered that mountain once, we can do it again. As I said before, we are resilient. Our mom’s imparted the golden nugget of wisdom that taught us not to cry over spilled milk. We can’t dwell on the circumstance. We can’t just sit there and wallow in what we wish would have happened. Even if we know how it COULD have turned out had that milk not spilled. Instead, we have to find a way to move on; to learn and grow from it. Let people know that you are walking through something difficult. Let them know you are dealing with a mistake. Even if it means that some people need to be warned to avoid a certain patch on the floor until you can mop really well. Whatever it is, know you are not alone. Know you will get through. And know that splattered butter, just like spilled milk, isn’t worth crying over. 

#loveyourjourney #youreworthit #bettermewithNewYouCBD #Endo30 #itsuptoyou

2 thoughts on “Don’t Cry Over Spilled Milk

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