This picture is sort of unrelated to the rest of this post - but it's from yesterday and it is just the sweetest thing ever!! Daniel let Josiah push the lawnmower with him to cut the whole yard. Major heart explosion!!!
Today I am tired. I couldn't sleep last night so eventually I gave up and finished the book I was reading. I stayed up pretty late, I slept on the couch so I wouldn't wake the hubs. So today I am crazy, deliriously tired. That "I feel like my whole life is a disaster" tired.
I try to separate the feelings from reality, I remind myself that everything feels wildly out of control when you're tired and that everything feels a lot farther away from total melt-down after a nap, which I intend to take very very soon. However, I did have this one thought that made sense, and I wanted to write it down.
Whenever I've talked about really tough periods of my life I've often said "it felt like the dump-truck of life just ran over me, then backed over me and ran over me again for good measure." I felt like I had visible tire-tracks on my forehead that spelled out the words road kill.
Today I'm wondering if maybe I tend to live my life laying down, maybe not all of the time, but sometimes it feels like maybe I do. Afraid that the dump truck is going to whip around the corner and run me over again. Maybe it's just easier to let go of expectations so I won't have to go through the agony of disappointment (something I've mentioned before - I try to avoid almost to a neurotic level) I tend to not be the kind of person to say "maybe that will be fun let's try!" Instead I'm all like "that will probably not be as fun as we think it will be, let's just save ourselves the expense and inconvenience and just stay home." So we stay home and watch TV. Which is depressing. And I ask myself "how did we get this way?! When did I become so physically & emotionally exhausted that I simply had no more fight left in me?" Or at least all of that fight seems to have gone to not eating all of the ice cream in the freezer and not screaming when I have to say the same thing for the thousand-millionth time.
I have been saying, if only to myself, for the longest time that I want to be more intentional with my life. But sitting here, just the thought of it makes me want to cry. I don't even know what that would look like. It feels too hard. It seems too risky. I don't even know where to start.
You know, I love my life. At the core of it. There are huge chunks of my life that I wouldn't trade for the world, but the details - they need some tweaking. I just don't want to live my life laying down.
I wrote the above on Thursday. On Saturday we went for a day trip to the beach, which gave me a little time to read in the car, and think. I've got so much to write about! I definitely left for the beach depressed and came home refreshed. I am so thankful God had the answers to this heart-cry right around the corner.