Control

I wish I could say that each day is sunshine and cupcakes.  Coated with a healthy layer of glitter and unicorns.  Not so.

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Life doesn't feel, metaphorically speaking, like a desert, or a season of winter, or anything like that.  Life just feels..... hard.  It's safe to say that 99% of my mornings (that aren't weekends) are greeted with the "I absolutely, positively do NOT want to get up today".  But I do.  Mostly because I have to.

It's a season of not feeling valued or heard and constantly feel inadequate.  I struggle to be in that place.  I struggle to stay quiet and let the lessons of patience and humbleness roll over me.  I constantly feel constrained by my age and my gender when I choose to speak up.  I wonder, frequently, if I'm any good at my job--even though I've been here for two years now.  I'm so far away from "I love what I do" that I'm now in a "I know I'm supposed to be here right now, but I hate it" place.  Each day is a battle not to cry.  Not to break down.  Not to lash out and throw glass objects haphazardly around the room in frustration.

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So, in an effort to control my world (or just realign my sanity), I do "projects" (some of which can be seen HERE, HERE, HERE, and HERE).  In a manic, "you'd think I was crazy if you actually knew" kind of way.  I love my house, I love my projects (and take an absurd amount of pride in them), but they approach the line of "crazy" often.  They provide control though.  Something I'm able to do well.  A place where I'm able to succeed.  And some days, if I can't be successful at something then I really do break down. 

Probably the biggest theme here is "control".  Big surprise there, right?  But I'm not quite sure how to relinquish all control without my world spinning violently on its center.  I am assured, however, by the reminder that life changes can start small and grow.  I can't have the prayer life of Paul immediately, but I CAN pray for two minutes a day and let that habit grow through repetition.

So, for my daily reminder of the day, I look to the yellow index card I've had for more than four years.  The same one that I took for my study abroad program in Mexico, that I've taped on walls, and that I currently have attached to the bottom of my monitor screen at work.  It's something that I need to see everyday, and a calming reminder each and every time I read it.  Funny how familiar scripture can seep into your life and form a certain level of comfort over rocky and irritated places.  That's what Philippians 4:6-7 does for me.