(from Impeachable Offense by Neesa Hart, pg 3)
My mind's been reeling for months. Somewhere in the middle of last school year I lost both my bearings and my footing.
Footings... Hmmm...
Maybe it was when I broke my foot! That was last mid-December. I'd promised our son I would meet him on the ice to skate while his school friends were still arriving for his party. He was excited, and I was late. Running quickly through our crowded house, I failed to negotiate a turn in our hallway and whammed my pinkie toe, HARD!, into the wall corner. Black and blue, swollen and bleeding...suddenly skating, as well as dance practice, walking, and even putting on a shoe, were out for the evening.
The owie slowed me down, but didn't stop me. I limped through the Christmas break and had to sit in the lodge during our annual downhill ski trip, but I was ready to teach and dance again by mid-January. A few weeks later we spent a lovely afternoon XC skiing and my foot didn't hurt at all--just felt tired when we were done. Until an hour later, when I re-broke it playing in the snow at the campground where we stopped for teatime! This time I ended up in a walking boot. Dance class was no longer an option and I limped through school and housekeeping for six weeks. All my favorite winter sports activities were out, and the bare necessities were harder to accomplish--took more time. Since I had commitments and responsibilities, I gave my quiet times away to work. I figured it was just for the short-term, because I had to.
But, like Mary's sister Martha, I was "distracted with much serving..." (Luke 10:38-42). By summer, my foot was healed but my soul and spirit were not. My prayer life had virtually petered out. As a teacher I was burned out to the point that little disappointments made me critical, and I no longer wanted to participate in our homeschooling co-op. I also had no heart or gumption for my favorite warm weather activities. I spent almost the whole summer sitting on the beach while my kids swam, and I hardly biked at all. Still, I did not recognize my depression. I felt "fine"--just tired, and cold...
My functional med doctor saw me in late summer and insisted I exercise harder. Run, he said. I hate running, but...our son decided to try XC running, so I did, too. After the initial rotten first two weeks, running went well and felt good until mid-fall when N got sick and there was just driving and hospitals and doctors--no time or place for exercise.
Now it's winter again.
I'm feeling old,
and noticing a pattern of lack of ambition. I see now that
I've been drowning for months,
and struggling for weeks to regain a foothold so I could rise above the surface again.
This week I returned to my piano to worship musically,
and finally, just today...
a whole year after breaking my foot...
had a basic, real, honest-to-goodness prayer time again.
Ahhhh....!
Short, simple, and...successful, the Lord definitely met me where I was. I feel..wooed. And excited for tomorrow. Because...well, have a gander at the gold nugget He gave me today:
"Be still, and know that I am God."
~Psalm 46:10
