Tug of War

My body is sore from the tug of war of life.  Work grabs this hand and pulls one way.  My family has my heart and pulls a different direction.  The dust bunnies wrap themselves around my leg and keep me stuck where I stand.  The volunteer opportunities/obligations on my plate pull me forward. The words in my head that need to be given life pull my fingers toward the keyboard. Hurting friends, though not a one is asking out loud or making demands, have my mind going with each of them.  My need to be still and reflect on God and spend time at His feet doesn’t pull or tug, but it calls from deep within.

Some days I feel ripped apart.  Like no one gets the whole of who I am.  Only small parts of less than an effective me.  I don’t like functioning this way.

What’s a girl to do?  I take a deep breath, lower my head and push on.  Like a traveler walking against the wind and rain, I tuck in and move.  I keep telling myself that it won’t be like this forever.  Soon the things that tug on me will be small in number, and I will miss the pull.  My body will ache missing all the tugging and pulling.

So I try to rejoice in it. I try to be grateful that I am well enough, that I am wanted enough, that I am capable, and lucky enough to have all of these opportunities.  And I try to offer myself grace.  I remind myself that I am one person.  One imperfect, broken, limited person. One creature trying her best to give all she has to make today better.  Better for work, better for my family, better for my house, better for those I’m serving, better as a writer, better as a friend, and better for my loving God.

I wrap myself in a blanket of His peace, and I cover myself in essential oils. I put coffee in my cup and a smile on my face, and I take one step in any direction.  Because whatever direction I step, there is work to be done!


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