I imagine Noah’s wife said this at least once during her family’s time on the ark. She must have said something. Regardless of how faithful and supportive we assume she was (assume because the Bible does not mention her demeanor at all), I am sure if the smell of the animals, the fear of the animals acting like the wild animals they were, or the claustrophobia of the ark itself had to have gotten to her at least once.
That is where I am now.
I said I would not complain about my ark again. And I am not complaining now. But I am tired of it. These animals stink. I don’t want to be on this ark any more. I want to be out of here. Now.
Each day gets a bit harder. The lack of privacy. Having to share private moments with my daughter. The limited intimacy with my husband. The limited autonomy over my household . It’s hard. Very hard.
Somedays I want to cry. Somedays I do cry. Somedays I give up. Most days, I let the house go because I don’t have the energy to stay on top of my chores. I am emotionally drained. Tired of trying to stay emotionally afloat for me. For my husband. For my child.
A clean house used to represent that I had things together. That I accomplished things on any particular day. That I was operating in decency and in order. These past few weeks, I have let it all go. My husband vacuumed because I just didn’t get to it. It took me three weeks to clean the toilets and mop the floors and that is so not like me. I don’t make Jazmine put her toys away at the end of the day nor do I put them away for her at the end of the day. The toys stay where they fall. All evidence that I have to get out of this ark.
It’s served it’s purpose.