Sunday, January 11, 2015

By the seventh day.

I love Sundays. A sleepy, slow day.
 A day that seems to crawl by - in the best of ways. A day to worship. Praise. Rest. Relax. Reflect. Prepare. A beautiful seventh day of the week. And start to another week. 

After God had spent six days creating the world, He set an example to us by resting. He didn't have to rest. He wasn't tired. His demands didn't leave Him exhausted. Instead, He rested because it was finished. It was good. And also, because He knew that humans needed a time to rest and, like with everything else, He wanted to be the example. 

One of my favorite Sunday moments is when I get to reflect on the week before, pray over the week ahead and then set goals and write down my schedule for what's to come. As someone who loves to rest in the triumphs and lessons learned of last week, and who constantly struggles with being anxious and overwhelmed, this Sabbath time is precious. 

1. First, I take a moment to look back at last week. Accomplishments. Things I didn't get done. Surprise God-things. Sweet conversations with friends. Every day blessings. 

Then I close that chapter. And turn the page to a new week. 

2. Before writing in my planner for this upcoming week, I pray over it. I talk to God about my anxieties. Pray about meetings, unexpected conversations, events and activities, time with friends and family. Pray for grace and truth, to be blessed and used. And then beside my prayer-conversation I list out what's going on that week - what may cause me anxiety - and give it to Him. 

3. Next, I list my goals and/or large tasks for the week. Then I assign them to days - writing down appointments first, followed by action items and notes. 

Then I enjoy the rest of my Sabbath, my Sunday. Last week's behind me. Tomorrow has been given to God. And, with my planner tucked away in my purse, I can praise, laugh, relax, rest - and generally not have to worry about tomorrow. 

Monday, January 5, 2015

It's Okay.

It's 9 p.m., and I'm struggling to stay awake. Curled up on the couch with a book, a fire in the fireplace, and my husband busy typing away, writing something brilliant. It's silent, except for the pitter-patter of computer keys. Peaceful, except for my quiet, constant nagging anxiety about work obligations tomorrow.

It's 9 p.m., on January 5, and I'm struggling to stay awake. This isn't allowed. It's a new year. I'm supposed to be doing brilliant things. Changing the world. Traveling. Reading and writing books that make a difference. That's the beauty of a new year. 

And I, like you, have high hopes for 2015. I seriously think it's going to be a great year. I don't make resolutions. But I do dream a little. Plan a little. Set goals and priorities. And wonder what God already sees happening in 2015. 

I know life is about more than just me. And comfort. And money. And yummy food. And laughter. Life is also about making an impact for the kingdom. Giving. Loving. Serving. And I want to make a difference.

 But really, I want to stay in my pajamas and binge watch Friends on Netflix. Really, I want to feel productive by reading the four books I have waiting. Really, I want to stay curled up in my safe bubble with my handsome husband and cozy life. 

So I have no idea why I'm blogging again. Or why you should care to read it. Maybe I'll share a recipe you like. Or maybe I'll give a little encouragement to your marriage. Maybe I'll say something that reminds you that God is amazing. Or I'll inspire you to plan and organize...

Or maybe I'll just make you feel like it's okay...

To struggle between wanting to change the world and wanting to stay in your pajamas. 

To make up your own recipes, because you never have the right ingredients for the Pinterest one.

To not be sure if you want kids but not be sure if you don't. 

To juggle being a wife and homemaker but also feeling really invested in a career. 

To push that little bit of dust into the air vent, because you're too lazy to sweep but want a clean house. 

To always feel like you're doing too much and not doing enough. 

To go back and forth between giving your life to serve and pour into others and finding peace and quiet in the stillness of Christ. 

To be freaking out on the inside about having to do your job and be an adult - all the while, knowing that God will give you enough for what He has for you. 

So, I can promise you I don't have it all together. And that's okay.