Give Some Grace


There is a lot on here that as I write, I find myself thinking, “Wow, am I that self-absorbed?” Then I remember it’s a blog, and I’m supposed to write about my perceptions. I haven’t graduated onto higher forms where I can intellectually and academically speak about my favorite topics. Alas, you’re stuck with a regretful post-modern thinker. My only hope for myself and you, dear reader, is that I make a point and make it memorable.

I’m horrible at taking care of myself. Whether this comes from me trying to avoid whatever reality I need to face or some sense of warped, “No, really I’m fine compared with _____. There is no reason I shouldn’t be able to help.” Which has me quickly disintegrating into an overworked pile of tears when I finally get about one hour to myself. Between my hectic work schedule, school, and church commitments, I’m surprised I breathe, let alone sleep.

I don’t like appearing or being weak and rarely do I allow myself to cry or say “No”. It’s easier to keep whatever it is bottled up inside and hidden under a facade of “I’ll be fine” or “I’m tired” or “Yes, I should be able to help.”

Is there a way to turn off my “I should fix everything” instinct or the “I don’t matter” mode?

But then I have those times where I realize I do need others and it’s okay for emotion to show. Which is why I’m thankful for the people who have stuck with me, let me know that being myself is what they want, and that I’m loved and safe no matter what. They are the friends I’ve called after 10 PM to talk through a break up. The friends who make me tea and offer conversation after I call to say, “I could use a hug.” The people who check on me when I’m sick.

If I was at the top of my game, I would tie in some Proverbs about “A good friend sticks closer than a brother” or how even Jesus wept and needed the disciples around him. Every Paul needs a Barnabas. Look to the Saints and their examples. But I’m not.

By how I see it – I’m overworking, busy with school, have a wonderful but emotionally draining job, and transitioning careers while having all the physical and emotional demands of a woman in her late 20s. I usually deal with these demands by having a weekly gripe-fest with a fellow co-worker at my restaurant job. She really got me last week with, “Hate to sound simple, but have you prayed about this and given it over to God?”

Thus, I find that I’m not after a solution. I just need peace. And it will probably only come with prayer and giving myself some grace.

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