In the past month I've had one of those in general just solid life shake-ups. Maybe everyone doesn't know what I'm talking about. I seem to have them fairly regularly - maybe once a year or so. Maybe twice a year. Where it feels like someone took my life jar and just shook the crap out of it, and I no longer am completely certain which direction is up, though I have an inclination that I'm fairly certain which way is up. But I wouldn't bet more than a few dollars on it. I guess some people call it having your rug jerked out from underneath you. I suppose it's rather like that.
I've run the gamete of emotions. Felt like my life was a whirlwind of a roller coaster, and the only way I could start to find peace was just to stop. Not everything, but I stopped a lot of things. I stopped teaching AWANA. I stopped going to Bible study. I stopped running. I stopped packing every crevice of every day with something. I stopped playing guitar and drinking beer months ago. I stopped preparing meals. I stopped eating a ton of protein. I stopped reading the Bible every day. I stopped signing up for races. I just stopped a lot of stuff. And I've met some judgment over my stoppings, but it hasn't swayed me much.
I often think of the scene in Forrest Gump where he runs across the US over and over and has all these followers, and then one day he just decided he was done. He stopped, and he went home. Everyone who was following him was baffled. It makes me laugh. That's exactly how I feel, and I have no better explanation than he did. "I think I'm done running now. I want to go home."
There are things I've kept doing. I keep taking care of the two children who live in my home. I keep snuggling.I keep working. I keep consuming alcohol (just not beer) and protein shakes in the morning with a raw egg. I keep cleaning the house and doing laundry and selling Girl Scout cookies. I keep taking the kids to their activities. I keep going to church. I keep playing Words with Friends. And scrapbooking. I still call my parents almost every day.
And there are some new things I've done, as well. I led those AWANA kids through a super cool service project. I've been talking to a man that I like many hours of almost every day. And I've rested - I've sat in my backyard and just sat and looked at the garden, and swung on the swing. I actually worked in my garden, more than once. I took anxiety medication for a week. And I started serving my daughter ice cream with both strawberry and chocolate syrup almost every day. I got back into a size 4 jean (something I thought would never happen again). I held my devil cat tonight and played with her belly and watched her stalk a mosquito eater. I noticed Orion.
I feel peaceful today. We started at my parents' house this morning. I let the teenager drive us home. We visited a friend who is ill and we prayed for her. Twice. We did a roof bid for an old acquaintance. We went to the pine derby race, and then came home. I let her eat Chef Boyardee for the 8th time this week and fed her ice cream with both syrups. We snuggled and watched Sofia the First. Then I sorted out 400 pictures and scrapbooked Alaska, while I continued to allow her to veg out on television. I finally put Edith to bed, way past her bed time - we brushed teeth, read devotion while cuddling a cat, sang songs, prayed, and covered her up again. Then she says, "Mom, can you play the guitar?" See, I used to play the guitar every night after I put her to bed, and that's how she fell asleep. But I've stopped.
I stopped because it started to feel like a chore, when it was supposed to bring joy.
So I picked up the guitar and I played it. I played "The Streets of London." I played "Ring of Fire." I played "Warrior is a Child." Then "How Great Thou Art." And I just kept going and going and going, wrapping it all up with "Victory in Jesus." My fingers hurt, but my heart soared full of joy.
