Cookie has a philosophy that goes like this: At the end of the day, the day ends.
Here's why this was, and is, life-changing and profound.
When Cookie first began beating his philosophy into my head, Gale Force was an infant and was tossing the pieces of our family life about in the hurricane of her first year. About once a week, Cookie would come home from work, take in the mess and all of us still in pajamas, and suggest we eat out.
I would say something in a eerily high-pitched voice like, "You gave me no lead time to adjust the nap schedule! Now what am I going to do? This is a nightmare!"
And then we would go out, and it would sometimes be awful, and we would come home, and the day would end. And Cookie was always right. Gale Force would drive me crazy at home or at a restaurant or any old where. But at least I'd get out, and have no dishes to clean up. And the day would always end at last.
So, three years later, I'm having a doozy of a week alone with the kids, and I haven't slept (or cooked) much. To illustrate the dooziness-level, yesterday's lunch consisted in piles of shredded Monterey Jack, stacks of pepperoni slices and V8 juice. I'd also been up three times during the night, each time too stunad to remember that I should be resettling, not feeding, the baby. Lucky girl.
On these days, my brain, like a teenage girl's, is nearly convinced that the world is actually ending and I am constantly tempted to stamp my feet and say crazy and dramatic things to people. But an amazing thing happened. Each time I wanted to do something ridiculous and irreversible like chop someone's blankie to tiny bits, I thought to myself, "there is a good chance that the world will not end, and tomorrow will be totally different." At the time, this felt like a wildly foolish thing to hope for, but I woke up this morning and it turns out, Cookie came through again.
At the end of the day, the day ended. It always does.
Look at the birds of the air: they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? ...Therefore do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble. Matthew 6