photo at stocksnap.io by Chelsea Francis
It was a Thursday morning at 5:00 a.m. I drug myself out of bed and headed toward the kitchen to make a cup of coffee. On my way there, I passed by the couch, and paused a moment too long. I crawled onto it, covered myself with a red chenille blanket, and curled up in a ball.
I told Jesus all the reasons I just couldn't get up yet. Changes were overwhelming me and I wanted desperately to go back to sleep -- that safe place where I'm blissfully unaware of reality or at least the details get dismantled and displaced in dreams.
My mind wandered in and out of consciousness as I reviewed the stories one by one. Shifts in my life, my relationships, and my body seemed largely out of my control. I felt powerless. One minute, I winced fearfully at the chaos and the next I repeated, "I trust you. I trust you are in this and you know what is best."
After about 45 minutes of spiritual ping pong and an accumulating pile of self-pity, my eyes popped open and surprised me like a jack jumping out of its box. I no longer felt helpless and knew exactly what I needed to do next. I made the choice to follow through.
I got up and walked quietly into the bedroom so not to wake my husband. I pulled out a pair of shorts, a tank top, and socks. I dropped my pajamas in the kitchen floor as I changed. I moved to the mudroom and found my tennis shoes and laced them up. I stepped through the door and onto the breezeway; the cool, comfortable temperature in August surprised me.
With dawn barely peaking over the horizon, I stretched my arms and legs, breathing deeply while I did so. When my aching body felt a little less taut, I began walking. Our driveway stretches a steep eighth of a mile to the county road and I headed down it.
Giant oak trees and towering sycamores made a green canopy above my head. The underbrush rustled as critters scurried. Birds spoke in strange songs. The stories in my mind quieted, and I noticed the sound of my footsteps landing rhythmically on the pavement. I felt the blood pumping through my veins as I moved my arms back and forth like a show-tunes dancer. My heart beat faster after I turned and began to make my way back up the hill. As my body warmed up, I started breathing through my mouth to let the heat out.
I moved up and down the hill with my mind opening for the first time in days. I figured out that I wasn't upset about new things, but about the same damn, old thing-
My lack of control in the changes.
I reviewed my usual go-to methods for plowing through the hard parts of life changing- I journal and pray, but I also drink pots of coffee until it's the appropriate time to start pouring wine. I raid stashes of dark chocolate tucked away in secret places. I watch reruns of Cougar Town at midnight with French onion dip and a bag of tortilla chips in the living room floor. I sometimes ignore what's really going on or I try madly to control other circumstances and souls (just ask my family).
Through the walking though, I noticed how alive and brave and capable I began to feel, even in the wake of unsolicited change.
I reassured myself, "All I can control is my attitude toward the change." But then I realized I could control something else-
How I handle the hard parts.
Because when things are difficult, I need more self-care rather than less. I need more walks, more sleep, more water, more salads, more grace, more positive self-talk, more quiet moments, more deep breaths, more journaling, more prayer. I tend to do these things more when life feels comfortable and predictable. But actually, I need these things most during the hard parts.
And you do too.
If you are immersed in a hard time these days, I invite you to take amazing care of yourself- share the same love, gentleness, patience, and understanding you would offer a newborn or sick friend.
Let's be as kind to ourselves as we would be to someone else going through a tough time -- allowing abundant space and grace -- to walk it out, to heal and to grow.
One specific way to take amazing care of yourself during a difficult time is to engage the 64-day Purpose Dweller journey. I go back to the material again and again to be reminded that I am deeply loved, infinitely valuable and positively here for a purpose. You can step inside your personal and private online dwelling place for the first few days and look around for free.
I've also prepared a guided meditation for worry as a gift if you'd like to download it .