More Than Anything

Dear readers,

I face so much strife on a day to day basis.

Do you?

I encounter a lot of disrespectful people.

Do you?

In recent weeks I have lost the ability to effectively communicate. I have tried to write on numerous occasions but stare blankly unable to form sentences with jumbled thoughts. I have struggled with much inward turmoil, and the more that turns and churns inward, the worse for us all.

More than anything. Today. I love feeling the drizzling rain. Smelling leaves. Gazing at color saturated trees. I read somewhere that the beauty of fall is that the trees teach us how beautiful letting go can be.

You know the "I ain't doin it" lady... C'mon. You know you do. She is all over the place. Imagine me doing the same. I cannot let go. "Good lord" and "I would rather" and "that's not right" and all the other phrases too.

My baggage is deep, wide, heavy, and multiplying.

I am a small person. Although I just told my tall husband yesterday that I feel medium, actually. Because Erin Mummert is smaller than me. And two other people I know. So I'm basically medium. But medium still, my shoulders and back are not up to the task of supporting my baggage.

As a leader, if my reports cannot make it to work on time, or cannot handle the daily assigned tasks, I take that on myself, as a negative reflection of me, when really, it is on them.

As a mother when my child makes choices that are not viewed best by me, I take that on myself.

As a friend who manages to lose contact and connection with other friends, I stack that up.

As a daughter and sister with miles, memories, and no stops for calls in between, I add that to my pack.

As a person who would love to identify as a bondservant of Jesus, I throw right up there on top of the whole heap, the weaknesses of falling short of representing and serving Him well, and at all costs.

Baggage for days. For years. Full. Heavy. Weighted.

I am proud of two, just two, things in my life that I have been able to release. With good grace. Super big baggage that would not pass as carry on, and would require extra handling fees.

More than anything. I am grateful. There is exquisite beauty in the pain of holding, in the rush of bouncing back and forth in the winds of decision and emotion. Then. You let it go.

The person you are now is wiser, stooped, perhaps, but wiser. In the release you can see what has been freed. Space. For healing. For new dreams. For love.

More than anything. I would like to lighten the load I carry with me everywhere. It's so heavy. So heavy. I need three Smarte Cartes. Legit.

When I look out my window, during this my favorite time, I'm reminded of beauty.

Of letting go. With good grace. All the things that are not meant for me. And all the things that do not belong in my pack.

I will forever be hard on myself. I will hold myself to an impossible standard. I will carry bags until I pass from the life.

More than anything. Jesus knows His Angela struggles with pushing and pulling carts of stuff. He knows it. He smiles and looks on her with love and likely consternation that she never ever learns, but His mercy with her is the deepest ocean.

More than anything.

Color saturated trees.

Exquisite beauty.

Decision.

Let go.

With good grace. And a thankful heart.