I am finding strength sufficient for each day. It's a promise, I know, so I wonder why it amazes me so. ;) Enough to do more than make it. Enough to do what I need to do....not everything. It's learning to balance. To go. To stop. To not feel discouraged when there are rest times. To know that they are part of the journey as well.
My mornings are better than I had feared. I hurt. I can be pretty tired. I don't always sleep well. However, come the morning, there is a new outpouring of strength for the day. It's supernatural. It's like a refreshing spring washing over me on a very hot day.
So yes, even this fine Monday morning is a blessing. To be ready to go and not afraid of what lies ahead. Therein is peace. I love it. I flourish in it. Not in being enough. In knowing that He is enough. That I don't have to be a superhero...or even try to act like one. It's enough for my part for me just to give what I actually have.
I went to a chiropractor in years past. He was VERY good. He knew long before anyone else did that my husband was a cause of my distress. He knew that I kept going when I should stop. He told me that my internal balance....my thymus even...was off because when I would get exhausted, I would push myself to keep on going. I hadn't always been that way. I did that to make it in my marriage. Had to always be busy. Always going. Always producing. No time to take a breath. When I would just be still, there was harumphing and comments. Mostly there was showing me up in the things that were deemed my responsibilities. He loved nothing more than to show me how much better he could do it. How I was a failure.
I think that's why he let his mom treat me as he did. Because it reinforced his deep seated belief that I am lazy. And I guess that maybe I am. Not generally. I get things done. Just not ALL of the time. Sometimes I stop. Sometimes I am with people. Present. Not working. Just with them. Sometimes I check out and rest my mind and heart. Sometimes I nap. Sometimes I work my butt off. I'm not lazy. I'm not a workaholic. I'm something that nobody else is....me. I must do what it is that I need at the moment. I must listen to what I need. And it has been a long time since I've done so. I've gotten good at ignoring my SELF. That's so weird. I have no desire to be selfish, but I do have a desire to exist. To actually be allowed to have needs. To be able to express them and meet them.
So, mornings are hard in that I have to get going in the five o'clocks five days a week. But, they are also a tribute to the One who gives strength for today. Who gives hope. Who is peace. Because every morning, He is still right here. Never wavering. I'm kind of learning to love waking up to that.
Have a great week.
blessings.
My mornings are better than I had feared. I hurt. I can be pretty tired. I don't always sleep well. However, come the morning, there is a new outpouring of strength for the day. It's supernatural. It's like a refreshing spring washing over me on a very hot day.
So yes, even this fine Monday morning is a blessing. To be ready to go and not afraid of what lies ahead. Therein is peace. I love it. I flourish in it. Not in being enough. In knowing that He is enough. That I don't have to be a superhero...or even try to act like one. It's enough for my part for me just to give what I actually have.
I went to a chiropractor in years past. He was VERY good. He knew long before anyone else did that my husband was a cause of my distress. He knew that I kept going when I should stop. He told me that my internal balance....my thymus even...was off because when I would get exhausted, I would push myself to keep on going. I hadn't always been that way. I did that to make it in my marriage. Had to always be busy. Always going. Always producing. No time to take a breath. When I would just be still, there was harumphing and comments. Mostly there was showing me up in the things that were deemed my responsibilities. He loved nothing more than to show me how much better he could do it. How I was a failure.
I think that's why he let his mom treat me as he did. Because it reinforced his deep seated belief that I am lazy. And I guess that maybe I am. Not generally. I get things done. Just not ALL of the time. Sometimes I stop. Sometimes I am with people. Present. Not working. Just with them. Sometimes I check out and rest my mind and heart. Sometimes I nap. Sometimes I work my butt off. I'm not lazy. I'm not a workaholic. I'm something that nobody else is....me. I must do what it is that I need at the moment. I must listen to what I need. And it has been a long time since I've done so. I've gotten good at ignoring my SELF. That's so weird. I have no desire to be selfish, but I do have a desire to exist. To actually be allowed to have needs. To be able to express them and meet them.
So, mornings are hard in that I have to get going in the five o'clocks five days a week. But, they are also a tribute to the One who gives strength for today. Who gives hope. Who is peace. Because every morning, He is still right here. Never wavering. I'm kind of learning to love waking up to that.
Have a great week.
blessings.
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