Demotivator

Are you familiar with those demotivator posters? You know, like the one with the guy who just got punched, and you see his sweat flying everywhere, and the caption says "PAIN: You will feel that in the morning." Well, sometimes I think of myself as a demotivator poster while I'm in Midland. Granted, that doesn't mean that I'm being punched or waking up with extreme pain, but I do feel quite the demotivator.
I came home for the summer with the intent to help Mom pack and move, right? Well, it seems I'm too early for that. Especially since she's getting professional movers, I can't do any of the packing because I'll be gone by the time they actually come. So, when it comes to sorting out junk in the house .. . .well, I've discovered that there's hardly a room or closet or cupboard in the house that can't be sorted through without Mom's supervision. "Oh, I'd like to save that . . .I'll use it someday." Um, right, Mom. You can go ahead and use that big ugly kerosine lamp and the cassette tape holder because I'm sure they'll fit right in at your new house.
Clearly, you can see my sense of demotivation right now. It seems like any task I try to do, I have to stop right away because Mom's not there to give me a run-down of what she really needs to save. Perhaps that's why I find it so satisfactory to sleep in so much . . .it's not like I'd be much help around the house anyway.
So, maybe I was wrong. Perhaps the Lord is telling me that I didn't come home to help Mom pack and move like I originally thought. Perhaps the reason I came home was for my benefit . ..to learn a lesson or two on patience.