I entered 2016 cozy in my comfy-Bimart-way-too-long-but-who-cares-black-sweatpants. I love those pants. I entered the new year exhausted, my sleep schedule destroyed from being off work for over a week. Naturally, if I don't have work to tell me when to wake up and be somewhere, I will become a nocturnal dweller - spending my wake, productive hours after the sun goes down and sleeping in 'til lunch-time. #shame
I am a terrible morning person.
I entered the new year, stuck at home from a crazy snow-ice-storm, where I ate tomato bisque soup and binge-watched television like the President of Couch Potatoes. I did not enter the new year with a lot of gusto. Let's me real here. I was a puddle of blah.
Maybe 2015 just knocked me out a bit. It was a rough and tough year. And I was freakishly busy juggling work and ministry and house and personal care like I knew what I was doing. (Sometimes I did.) It was not a year to be Employee-of-the-Year, despite having many successes on the work-front.
I am tired. Spent. My cup runneth dry. I missed the life I thought I was suppose to have.
I entered 2016 bombarded with the question of goals and resolutions. Specifically, what mine were and how I was going to accomplish them. I hated the idea of picking something and then forgetting about it a month later. I hated the idea of being all naive and cliche about a goal, when I should have picked something more solid and helpful. I really just hated everything.
So, I prayed about it. "Lord, what do you want me to do?" It's not like he took me out to coffee and said in a calm God-voice that I needed to cool my jets or to snap out of it. I didn't feel a sudden warm fuzzy feeling. A light did not suddenly come on. But I did feel some relief.
I would give myself the month of January to just breathe.
Whatever that looks like. It's not like I didn't have a lot to do this month. Another big women's event to direct. A new Lifegroup season to prepare for. Volunteer teams to lead. Youth group resuming. Life happening. This and that and those things.
But I needed to give myself some grace. I am still learning this concept of granting one's own self-care, but I knew I needed to not worry so much about a measurable goal or a New Year's Resolution.
I took off my FitBit. (Just for the month, I promise.) It felt really weird at first not having it on. Like I was missing something really important. I had worn it religiously for about ten months. But I didn't want to worry about how many steps I was taking or how much water I was drinking or even how much sleep I was getting.
I wanted to just be.
I started cooking again. Inspired to cook healthfully for both my husband and I. So far, I have used a meal plan from a magazine and this last week, I picked some recipes to try out. Meal planning gave me something to look forward to, something to create. And oddly, it didn't stress me out. It gave me joy.
I've been meditating on Psalm 126, which talks about restoration and joy. About how we thank God for the restoration He has done, but also the anticipation of what He will restore in the future. These words from Scripture, give me a glimmer of hope. And this year -I finally figured out - will be a year of restoration.
I don't know what it means yet. I know it will involve a lot of rest, a lot of study, a lot of work, a lot of words shared and heard, a lot of relationship building and probably a lot of tears. Could also mean some big changes.
I have some big hurdles to jump over this year, and I know I will be tripping on them along the way. It will hurt, but at least I am not alone. God knows the crap I have to work through. He loves me anyways. He knows and He still loves me.
I am a terrible morning person.
I entered the new year, stuck at home from a crazy snow-ice-storm, where I ate tomato bisque soup and binge-watched television like the President of Couch Potatoes. I did not enter the new year with a lot of gusto. Let's me real here. I was a puddle of blah.
Maybe 2015 just knocked me out a bit. It was a rough and tough year. And I was freakishly busy juggling work and ministry and house and personal care like I knew what I was doing. (Sometimes I did.) It was not a year to be Employee-of-the-Year, despite having many successes on the work-front.
I am tired. Spent. My cup runneth dry. I missed the life I thought I was suppose to have.
I entered 2016 bombarded with the question of goals and resolutions. Specifically, what mine were and how I was going to accomplish them. I hated the idea of picking something and then forgetting about it a month later. I hated the idea of being all naive and cliche about a goal, when I should have picked something more solid and helpful. I really just hated everything.
So, I prayed about it. "Lord, what do you want me to do?" It's not like he took me out to coffee and said in a calm God-voice that I needed to cool my jets or to snap out of it. I didn't feel a sudden warm fuzzy feeling. A light did not suddenly come on. But I did feel some relief.
I would give myself the month of January to just breathe.
Whatever that looks like. It's not like I didn't have a lot to do this month. Another big women's event to direct. A new Lifegroup season to prepare for. Volunteer teams to lead. Youth group resuming. Life happening. This and that and those things.
But I needed to give myself some grace. I am still learning this concept of granting one's own self-care, but I knew I needed to not worry so much about a measurable goal or a New Year's Resolution.
I took off my FitBit. (Just for the month, I promise.) It felt really weird at first not having it on. Like I was missing something really important. I had worn it religiously for about ten months. But I didn't want to worry about how many steps I was taking or how much water I was drinking or even how much sleep I was getting.
I wanted to just be.
I started cooking again. Inspired to cook healthfully for both my husband and I. So far, I have used a meal plan from a magazine and this last week, I picked some recipes to try out. Meal planning gave me something to look forward to, something to create. And oddly, it didn't stress me out. It gave me joy.
I've been meditating on Psalm 126, which talks about restoration and joy. About how we thank God for the restoration He has done, but also the anticipation of what He will restore in the future. These words from Scripture, give me a glimmer of hope. And this year -I finally figured out - will be a year of restoration.
I don't know what it means yet. I know it will involve a lot of rest, a lot of study, a lot of work, a lot of words shared and heard, a lot of relationship building and probably a lot of tears. Could also mean some big changes.
I have some big hurdles to jump over this year, and I know I will be tripping on them along the way. It will hurt, but at least I am not alone. God knows the crap I have to work through. He loves me anyways. He knows and He still loves me.
RSS Feed