The morning light slowly awakens the world. As the sun creeps into the sky I walk. Alone. Past homes, and fields, and a lone farm -- a farm that was there long before the homes crowded around it. My thoughts are restless. Anxious. I know when I step back into my home that my list of to-do's will be longer than I can accomplish.
You need to get back. You're having company today. Think of the list to you have to do. If you were better, or did stuff like others maybe you'd be caught up.
My feet keep moving -- forward. The sun is trying to burn through the layer of early spring morning fog. Drops of mist coat my hair, causing the once-straightened strands to regain their natural curl. Nature wins.
It's just seems impossible. If I could only be like them, maybe I'd get everything done. I have so much to learn and not enough time. How will I ever ever ever catch up?
Slowly, I begin to jog. I see some runners at the top of the hill. They've got the apparal -- you know, the perfect running gear. Here I am, slowly jogging, and slightly winded, wearing old black trackpants, a purple sweatshirt, and silly shoes. I look up. Give the courtesy nod, and quickly look down.
Why do you need to compare, Rachel? Does it really matter? You're out here. Trying. You aren't them. Just keep moving.
My face is cold. I'm running into the wind, and that purple soccer sweatshirt is barely keeping me warm. Another car passes and I can feel myself trying to keep a good stride -- to look good while they drive by.
This is ridiculous. You need to stop comparing. Stop it, stop it, stop it.
I start walking. As my body slows down I start to breathe in the morning. The buds of spring are everywhere waiting for that day when they can freely open and bring new color into a dull-toned world. One step, two step, three. I keep moving -- my neighborhood is across the street. I see the path where I walked yesterday with Caleb and Grace. There are pine cones dropped on the side of the road and I wonder if those were some of Caleb's treasures that he had stuffed into his orange sweatshirt.
Remember. You are NOT to define yourself the way you think the world wants you to be. You are NOT to define yourself even the way you think you should be. You need to be aware of God's view of you. He made you. You have a purpose, a reason, an intent. Lift up your head, embrace the day the Lord has blessed you with.
I can see my home. The rusty-red colored door is visible from the end of the block. Brown grass, dormant from winter carpets the front lawn. I know it won't last. Within weeks it will be this vibrant green. Full of life and beauty.
You can do this. You can walk in that door with that lengthy list and you can be joyful. Thankful that you are blessed with a list of work to do. Thankful for each piece of laundry to be folded, and the yard to be raked, and the dishes to be washed. Thankful for the little boys who will try to snitch the brownies that you made last night. God defines you. Not those runners. Or that list. Or the mistakes. You are His creation. Your home is full of His blessings. Embrace it.
My hand reaches out and turns the front door handle. The knob with specks of mud attached thanks to little boys who create their best mud creations ever. As I turn it, I hear sweet little voices. My guys.
Mom! You're home! Mom's home, she's home! Everybody, guess what? Mom's home!
I'm home. In my house of much to do. And I'm glad.
Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind.... (Romans 12:2a)
How do you reset your mind? A walk? A drive? Coffee? Prayer? Laughter?
I'd love to hear your ways of regaining clarity in the everyday.
