Every morning when I wake, I hear my son’s voice in my head. It is not his deep grownup voice, but the one he had when he was about 5 years old. “It’s a new day, Mom! It’s a new day!”
I have such peace today. The calm is magnificent. Thunderstorms are coming where I live, but I do not feel great regret that I cannot go outside and “play” as I had hoped. I just feel very quiet deep inside of myself. It is not a brooding, sad quiet, but a thoughtful and hopeful one.
Right now, all is good. I’ve never been one to need an easy road. I just need to see hope on the horizon. That’s all I need – ever. I have that now, so I’m pressing forward.
My daily devotional is not one I want to share. It is too spiritual to “put on blast.” But it meant something and I felt it.
I grew up in Holy Roller Nation of the Deep South and just sicken when I hear excessive talk of faith…as it usually accompanies a soapbox, nose in the air and a racist reality, homophobic reality and even pathological acts… Down there – in my experience – the dirtiest of souls tout superiority in faith and try to appear most faithful. So I cannot, will not and do not… It is between me and my maker. So today’s bit I will keep to myself and wear it in my heart.
What else can you do when you know an electrical storm is coming, but work or rest? Well, you can do so much more. But I choose to work a little, rest a little, work a little. That is how today went.
I have some huge goals for the workweek ahead and need to not talk myself out of achieving them. So today I worked a little and rested a little, so I can repeat the pattern tomorrow. Supposedly there will be storms tomorrow, too.
Well, well, well…someone worked out for 71 minutes today. That’s good. It felt fantastic.
Work progress equals material progress, in many cases. Today that was the case for me. I paid one bill and otherwise kept my nose clean. Progress, nonetheless.