Living At A Leisurely Pace

This last year was full of rushed mornings, days of running a household and a business, and afternoons that seemed to roar straight until bed time. And by the time summer gloriously burst our of the dreary muddy Montana spring {a time when I should have been rejoicing in the warmth of sunshine}, I was broken down and weary.

It is in my make-up to work for excellence and at that time, not much was being done with excellence. My home was a disaster, my teenager was rolling over me in my weakened state and for the first time in our family life, I was not enjoying anything.

The last few years have been spent building a business {that I love} and it has taken work. Hard work. But, my family wasn't used to such a thing! They weren't used to hours of my time being spent NOT. ON. THEM.

And I wasn't used to it either. It made me stressed. It made me frustrated that nobody else did the laundry (not true- HH did do laundry) and nobody else cared if the house was a mess (also not true, but nobody cared as much as I did) and the refrigerator was empty again (even thought I'd just filled it two days ago).

I was not living with joy. My reserves were on empty. I was focused on how hard everything seemed rather than how blessed I was to have everything I was trying to manage.

And it was because my pace was frantic in my desire to GET IT ALL DONE!

Then, one morning {after a sobbing fit with HH on the dock by the lake we'd just jumped into at 10pm to cool off} I read something in Sarah Young's Jesus Calling.

It said -  live life at a leisurely pace.

I was like- What? How? Is that even possible?

It then said something like - God will allow time for what's needed.

Seriously? He will? Well, shoot. That's a new concept.

So, I chose to believe it. I chose to slow down and take moments when they came. To trust that what was needed would get done and the rest could wait until tomorrow or perhaps get taken care of in some other way that didn't even involve my participation. I unclenched my hands and opened my arms.

And now, life is still busy, but not overwhelming. It's full, but filling too.