Lately my life has been crazy. Not that crazy isn’t the norm in a house where seven people live, but an exceptional level of it. Crazy that messes with your head, disrupts your day, and steals your peace.
Five weeks and four days ago — not that I’m counting — my brand new dishwasher decided to up and quit on me. Permanently, according to the repairman who’s visited my home four times.
I usually get up every morning and spray down my counters with Thieves household cleaner (yes, we’re an oily family!), but I can hardly find the surface. We dirty a lot of dishes! We’ve started using disposable plates and cups and crock pot liners (a brilliant invention), but still, I’m looking at a sink full of soaking dishes as I type.
An installer should contact me soon to discuss delivery of a replacement unit, but until then, I’m up to my elbows in suds. (Feel free to laugh at me if you don’t own a dishwasher, but you probably have an established routine at your house. I do not.)
Since January I’ve suffered from an assortment of skin allergies on my neck, chest, and face. Some I’ve identified and some leave me baffled. It’s hard to make changes when you don’t know what to change.
There’s no peace, waking or sleeping, when you are — quite literally — uncomfortable in your own skin.
Visit me today at (in)courage for the rest of the story and what I’ve come to realize about the blessings of an ordinary day.
