saving my life: help.

{print by Jon Contino}

This has been one of those weeks: It’s been good, but I’ve just had this feeling that I can’t shake, this “I’m-not-myself” feeling, and since I’m typically a fairly confident person, this feeling is taking its toll.

My life is just this out of control mess. We’ve overbooked ourselves, yet again; the May calendar is already full, and we’re not even out of April yet. I’m missing a very important milestone in my little cousin’s life, and it’s breaking my heart. We owed so much in taxes that I feel like I could punch someone; basically everything I earned last year freelancing (plus some) went to Uncle Sam, which makes me wonder if going home every night to sit in front of the computer designing and editing is even worth it. We can’t get a vacation with my parents and brother on the calendar because everyone’s so busy; we haven’t been to see Jordan’s parents since Christmas. We’re starting new ministries at church, which I’m excited about, but wondering if we’re maybe just a little bit crazy. Our lease is up in August, and we’re looking for a house to rent, which is turning out to be a tad complicated and expensive. It’d make more sense to buy, but we’re determined to finish paying off Jordan’s student loans first.

On top of all this, my face looks like puberty exploded, and you know what? Despite everything in my life producing chaos, that’s the only one I can focus on. That’s what’s really bothering me in all this. Forget the taxes, forget my mess of a house: All I can focus on is my face and how it went from beautiful and clear to… not. Really, really not.

I say all that to say this: My mom saved my life this week. I’m 26 years old, and sometimes I really, really stink at this whole “being an adult” thing, and honestly? I feel like there are times we all just need our moms. So this week, my mom — who deserves some kind of award or possibly sainthood — came over to my house and helped me clean. My house was a disaster area thanks to weeks of traveling and busy schedules; it had reached what I call the point of no return, that point where everything is so messy, there’s really no use in trying, so I watch Grey’s Anatomy reruns instead. I was paralyzed by the chaos, so my mom came to whip everything — including me — back into shape. And you know what?

It helped.

My life is still a little messy, a little complicated. My face is less than what I wish it would be. Our finances — for as hard as we work and give and save — definitely still frustrate me.

But my house is clean and the laundry is done, and somehow, that has made such a big difference.

I know what some people think my life looks like, living in the same town as my parents. I think a lot of people think I see my parents all the time, think I get to have family dinners and go out to their house and visit with them pretty (perhaps too?) regularly.

The truth is, that doesn’t happen. Jordan and I are busy (perhaps too?). My parents live on the other side of town, and there are only a few big family dinners. We see them at church, yes, but we’re all rather involved, and so that mostly consists of smiling and waving at each other as we pass in the halls.

Sometimes, I miss my parents. Sometimes, I need their help.

I can clean my own house. I can maintain my schedule and, if I try, I can keep the laundry at bay.

But sometimes, I have to acknowledge that I am failing. That something has to give. That I need help.

This week, I needed help, and I asked my mother to please, come help me clean my house.

So she did.

And in doing perhaps the most menial of tasks — in the scrubbing of my bathtub and the vacuuming of my living room rug — she saved my life.