My tea bag told me I was limitless








My tea bag last night said "You are limitless". 
But my message board I'm staring at as I'm writing this has a rather unfortunate "e" that fell off the word "quiet" and so you can figure out the rest. "Quit" is now staring me in the face. 
Isn't life funny sometimes?  I took neither of these messages entirely to heart, although I suppose both do ring a bit true on this Monday, while I'm sitting at this kitchen table, with this mug.  

I've had a yearning to write.  If you peeked into my house around 5:30 in the morning and saw me curled up and cozy under the covers, you'd be baffled at the writing thing.  Especially if you saw how our mornings start and then the steady pace our days roll on by with.  I used to think I didn't have free time for blogging or painting or whatever little ideas squeezed their way into my mind among the piles of laundry and cooking.  The truth was, I had loads of time compared to now.  And parents of teenagers or older kiddos, I know. I've heard it a million times already-"just wait 'till they get older." 

Although I certainly believe some things need to take a backseat for a season (you read my painting blog post, right?), I have never prescribed to the train of thought that says "life is too busy, I'll just quit."  Life is as busy and busting at the seams as we make it.  It's the words, ideas, practices, and rituals that make life rich.  Sometimes though one part of life is screaming for attention and the rest fades into the background.  That's where I am now.  

I mentioned ever so briefly that I was working on some things, health-wise.  Nothing major, but big enough to where I truly wasn't feeling well at all, for days and weeks and sometimes months.  It came to an almost breaking point while on the most lovely date in Eureka Springs, when I finally, tearfully told Brett "I'm so rosy I cover it up really well, but I just don't feel well.  Hardly ever." 

He gently but firmly encouraged me to make a couple doctor's appointments or else he would.  I haven't been a good student my whole life for nothing. I called the doctors. 

A non-emergency diagnosis from one, a set of crooked X-rays from another.  To make a long story a little shorter I was dealing with some internal things but also my spine and neck were way, way out of line.  To make an even longer story even shorter, I'm now going to the chiropractor weekly and have made drastic changes to my diet.  Both of these tools combined have made for a me that feels good, like really good!  It is amazing and freeing. 

But this has been my one part of life that's been screaming for attention.  And so I've given it.  As I've done so I've felt at a loss or drained for words about all the other squares of life that make up this rich tapestry that is our story.  

Where to even start about that cute bulletin board makeover I did?  How to explain our first foster care meeting is tonight and all I'm looking for as I scan the horizon are cheerleaders and an army of God to encourage us, not tell us your worst horror story.  How do I pull back the curtain on my entire health story without feeling like I'm standing and shouting in the middle of a very quiet crowd with questioning looks and strange glances?  How do I unpack my journey into my photography business, without it sounding shallow and easy?  Because it truly has just fallen into place! 

I find that writing for me is like sinking deep into a really great couch, with my favorite afghan and a mug of something really hot.  Preferably coffee or a close second, tea. I've never been a good writer on the fly.  I need time to watch the words dance across the screen and mull over them.  With all that is swirling in my world right now it's been hard to jump in and grab a piece of life and write about it. 

Yet that longing to write is only intensifying as change seems to line up in a row, handing out marching orders in my life one after the other.  I will also say the new Gilmore Girls series did nothing to quench this desire either.  If you've watched, you know what I mean. 

All that to say, I'm here, I'm longing to write, and I will.  I'm neither limitless nor going to quit.  I'm just right here in the middle, mostly rosy but also realistic.  Some day down the road I'd love to share the natural ways God is using to heal me, from the inside out.  For now, I pinky-promise to keep showing up on the blog.  Just this week the girls and I pulled up Christmas posts from the past, one after another.  It was like watching the most beautiful film I could have dreamed up.  I've spent too much of life wishing for someone else's story at times.  

Not this time.  This is my story, my song, my life ballad back to God for all that He has done.  My story is beautiful and so is yours. 

 Go into your week with that planted firmly in your heart.  I'll pray you see it take root and grow into the tangible you can see with your eyes.  Perhaps a smile from someone you've been praying for, a moment of quiet and a beautiful sky, a funny something to make you laugh when your bones are aching for joy.  I know this time of year isn't rosy and merry for all and my heart aches to send some joy flying your way, like the flight of birds that soar over the farm a few times a day.  That's what I'm praying for you.  

Comments

  1. Sara, I can relate to this so much - the writing part. Also, I recently read Alexandra Kuykendal's "Loving my actual life" and it speaks to us living in our present season. I'm like you in the way that my mind never stops coming up with ideas, but that also lends itself to looking ahead too much!

    Day by day....it's the best we can do.

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