When I started writing this blog, I set myself the goal of two entries per week. I thought that seemed reasonable. And I met that goal pretty well for awhile. Then life happened over the past ten days, as it tends to do. And like running, that other pesky discipline that keeps me healthy, blog writing went straight out the window.
There’s a recurring theme in my life called not being very good at boundaries. I’m getting better, but I used to be really bad at it, especially with people I love. And so even if someone disrespected me and hurt me really bad I might keep going back for more. It seems the more I cared about the relationship, the longer it would take me to create a boundary so as not to be hurt. I thought I could make it better if I kept on trying. I wanted to fix it. As a Christian I had a bit of a mixed-up notion of what it means to turn the other cheek and forgive seventy-times-seven and all of that. I believed it was wrong to walk away.
I threw this image up on Facebook and Instagram yesterday after finding it on one of my neglected Pinterest boards. It was my mantra for the day based on a morning of failure. Failure in the form of burnt toast, hungry, unhygienic children; a cluttered house, laundry on the dining table, too tight pants, dirty hair, no blog entries in over a week, an empty bank account, and lateness, just to name a few.
I’m a mess this morning. I’m sitting in front of the computer in my denial pajamas, the same pajamas I had on yesterday morning until I was forced to put on my big girl pants fifteen minutes before it was time to leave the house.