A Shift in Perspective

Last week was a doozy. It was heavy and full of emotion. It held both wonderful and hard things, leaving me mentally and emotionally drained - so much so that I had a horrifying nightmare on Sunday night. It scared me so bad that I checked to make sure all of my kids were still safe and breathing in their rooms, the house was locked and secured, and my bedroom was clear. Then I stayed up for a couple of hours reading my Bible and praying. It wasn't until my mind shifted from fear to focusing more on Paul being wrongfully imprisoned on one of his journeys that I was finally able to fall back asleep. 

As part of the plan to better set myself up for success, I had my alarm set so that I could go to the gym to do some strength training in between my run days. Of course, I woke up 2 more times before my alarm went off - but something shifted with the morning. I listened to worship music for my whole workout at the gym. My family played games, cleaned, and had sweet quality time together. We got to see the Astros beat the Angels 8-3 at Daikin Park with some friends. As I reflected on some hard work conversations, I shared with a friend the peace that I had in my heart and mind - a peace that did not exist during those same conversations a few weeks prior. 

This morning, my run had the same interval pattern as one that broke me down last week. I put on worship music and decided that running slow was better than not running at all, so I was gonna just push through. At no point of my run did I feel like I was going to throw up or like I needed to walk during one of the running intervals. I jogged incredibly slow but steady, which I had absolutely failed to do the prior week. During the cool down walk home, I was listening to a song called Can't Steal My Joy by Brandon Lake. I had this internal conversation with God where I considered the difference between joy and happiness. 

My joy wasn't stolen last week, my happiness was. My happiness was shattered when I didn't meet the expectations I had of myself. God didn't specifically ask me to get my mile time down or run a set distance. He wants me to commune with him while I'm running - whether I win or fail. He wants me to abide with him while I'm running, not hit a specific speed. He wants me to desire time with him more than looking a specific way in my clothes. 

I needed to change my perspective.
I didn't fail the runs last week. I failed taking care of my temple by feeding and hydrating my body better, and speaking to myself in love. 
I didn't fail in homemaking last week. I used the time I had to care for our home and my family. The rest that didn't get done was expectations I had on myself, not from anyone else. 
I didn't fail in parenting last week. I apologized when I messed up, taught them to look for joy and God's goodness everywhere, encouraged them to apologize when they mess up, and we sought God together. That is what discipleship is. That is what God calls me to do, so that is the only thing that matters. 

We get to commune with God while we accomplish the things on our list. The conversations and quality time that happen while we are going about our day are far more important than the outcome of the tasks we complete. 

Slowly, but surely, He is restoring me and renewing my mind.