Regret is a disconcerting emotion, isn’t it?

I am beginning to succeed at my usual failings.  I’ve found partners to pick up my slack.  I’m sharing where I usually hunker down in silence.  I’m making an effort where I have previously, and routinely, thrown myself under the proverbial bus.

I don’t believe it’s age, though the number of negative experiences building up over time contributes to my current successes.

Most of the time that I have given up (or in, not sure what to label it) on a goal or change for myself,  it has been with little effort that I fought FOR my change.  I don’t fight for myself.  Not on any level,  especially now that I’m older.  I was bolder when I was young.  Not so much anymore (for those of you who know me, you are either laughing your head off because I seem like the boldest woman you know – or lamenting my strength is waning – if you knew the younger, more selfish me.)

I do know that my Steve has always fought for me.  He sees me.  He stands up for me.

Do you believe that God gives you a partner?  I do.

Opposites attract.  I didn’t know what this meant.  I suspected arguments and differing styles and couples that don’t see eye to eye but tolerate each other for the sake of the kids.  What I got was a champion for my soul.  Someone who knows when I am letting myself down and finds a way to help me make the changes, take the steps, I need to take.

Should I mention how strong a man that has to be?

I am a professional builder of walls.  I can and will ‘do’ whatever needs to be done — very much on my own, thank you.  That thinking is what I battle every morning when I look in the mirror, smile at my egotistical self and affirm:  I believe in God.  In His place in my life.  In His love for me.  In His heart for my destiny.

Without that daily affirmation — I am bounding around at lightening speed ‘doing’ all for everyone and making the world a better place.

That doesn’t leave room for the purposes and the gifts that God has given me to do his work.  His work, not mine.

Now, my gifts and his work usually align with my ‘doing’ even when I have the audacity to believe that I am the one in charge.  But what doesn’t get done is the care and nurturing of the gifts he has given me.

Two things come to mind and are the reason I write this morning.  My health, and my writing.

With Steve’s beautiful persistence and love — the health part is coming alive.  He is taking this journey WITH me, caring for himself at the same time — and showing me how to stay with a plan regardless of my mood, or the extra planning that is required to do so.  Weight is coming off, and body aches are fewer.  Inner health is improving.

The other is to write.  To start, just a few words a day.  In the future.  More.  Much more.  But for now – establish a pattern.  And stick to it.  Being that this isn’t something that Steve is helping with yet, then I managed two writing days last week, and this is my first for this week.  My focus has never been myself, but I am going to write for me.  I’ll publish what I clean up and want to share.  Otherwise.  I write.  Just plain write.  For me.  For the gift that I believe God wants me to use.  For the growth and the integrity and the routine that I need to establish.  For the flow of words and the delicious way they flow from my fingers when I get on a role.  (I gave myself 20 minutes today and as I hit that 20 minute mark the words are finally flowing.  That means I need at least 30 so that I can sit here stupidly wondering for awhile before I start.)

This weekend, my church is having a writer’s day.  We get to share our words and talk a bit about writing them.  Who does that?  Really.  Why, when I need it most, would my church randomly plan such an event?  And ask me to participate.  And know that I would?

Who, indeed.

No regrets.  I’m writing.

 

 

23 Jun This entry was published on June 23, 2016 at 2:24 pm and is filed under God thoughts, Peace, Thought. Bookmark the permalink. Follow any comments here with the RSS feed for this post.