Getting Things Done

"Feeling undone. What have I become? When I turned my back on you, I turned my back on myself and became this machine. Thoughtlessness. Selfishness. Hopelessness. Arrogant.
Shadows in the sun filter through us. Still wrestle the demons that arrested me as a child. Confession rejected. We grow up to give up. People step on the cracks for wounds owed paid back through the words of surrender. Emptiness. Loneliness. Listlessness. Worthless. I feel it on the inside, twisting and contorting. Memory has shaped me once again. Still feel you on the inside, biting through and stinging. Will I ever forget to remember?
Surrender to the shadows haunting inside. Bleed through you. Surrender to the secrets...inside
Lies within you. Can't feel you on the inside. Set down the bag and left it. Lost memory has left me once again. Open up the inside. Admission for the cleansing. Now that I've forgotten to remember."
- Forget To Remember, Mudvayne

I'll get to those lyrics in a bit.  But first, I can't believe it.  I woke up this morning with an urge.  Don't ask why this was my first thought, but it was, "I'm going to clean out the cupboard under the sink in the bathroom, today."  Weird.  And I did it, too.  Maybe because it's just a small space, I felt that if I could just go through everything and clear it out, organize what's left, I will feel a sense of accomplishment, and maybe motivation to move on to bigger and better chores, like cleaning the baby's room.  {Laugh Out Loud}  Alas, no.  That won't happen until I get a day where one of the Grandmas takes DJ for a few hours.  But it did lead to laundry and feeling like I got somewhere today.  I did something worthwhile. 

Funny thing is, I raise our 14-month-old boy every day. Seems like that would make me feel like I'm doing something worthwhile!!!  Just goes to show how our environment can skew our perspective on things.  I don't really leave the house much, so this big box is my world these days.  And thus the lyrics, above.

I Forget To Remember that there is a mother living under the mercilessly hot sun somewhere, with disease knocking on the flap of animal hide that serves as her door, raising four children that were forced upon her by a man in her village.  She uses her own saliva to keep her babies clean.  She nurses them with her milk for years, so they don't starve.  They sleep together in a pile on the dirt floor.  She protects her children from wild animal attacks, and probably loses one or more to snakes, spiders, scorpions, etc.  She can't even imagine my life.  She doesn't even have the capacity to understand that a place like my giant box exists in a beautiful place called Michigan.  And she is only one example far, far away from here.  I can list more that are suffering within 10 miles from where I sit, right now.  Freezing from no heat.  Mold creeping into little one's lungs, into her own lungs, making it even harder to do what she needs to do to keep her baby alive.

Thank God I have what I have.  Here is my "box":