All of our
lives, we're told not to make mountains out of mole hills.
That's good advice and I generally agree but do you know what's
under
mole hills? Mole holes! No one ever warns you about those.
At
the moment, I have a clear mountain ahead. That's where my focus
lies. Unfortunately, while I'm looking ahead to the mountain, I keep
stepping in mole holes.
I'm
talking about the literal mole hills that seem to be appearing across
my yard. I notice them, of course, but pay them little mind until I
step on one. Suddenly, I'm ankle deep in a mole HOLE.
Then, I'm reminded of the very real issues before me that are not
quite mountains, but still serious.
Over
the last few months, while looking at the mountain, I'm overwhelmed
by the figurative mole hills: I'm unemployed while keeping my children safe and
sane during a pandemic and separation from their dad, a snazzy new
appliance that brought a scary gas leak, logistical concerns
regarding my husband's care, and, finally, the passing of my beloved
brother have all been laid out in front of me. It's a game of real
life Whack-A-Mole.
As I say this, I'm reminded that
when my kids are playing actual
Whack-A-Mole in the
arcade, they do much better when they work together. When more than
one person has a mallet, those moles don't stand a chance.
I have an army of people who
stand behind me with love and hold those big goofy hammers high,
ready to whack any mole that rears his head. Knowing that so many
people are watching my back *and my ankles) means that my focus can
remain on the mountain so it can be properly tackled.
Obviously, my family has been
clobbering those little bastards all of my life, Looking beyond
them, I see the mob of friends, armed with giant hammers, ready to
whack-a-mole.
Thank you army. I love you for
so many reasons, but especially for that.
