I changed my sheets today…
Hardly worthy of a blog, eh?
Except I haven’t made my bed but once in the past 3 months when it is normally something I do every day.
After my mom’s death, I found it harder and harder to keep my home picked up and when I got COVID I struggled to do the smallest tasks.
I keep seeking. I keep knocking. I reach out to God, to friends, to counselors and to doctors. I keep adding healthful bits and pieces and sometimes it is like getting 2/3 up the hill, to slide halfway back down.
At the church prayer meeting last Sunday, I received miraculous healing of extreme weakness and breathlessness. Friday night was the first time in months I could stand for worship let alone lift my arms. It was beautiful to again involve my body in praise & worship of the Lord.
I keep coming to Christ. I keep knocking. I keep seeking even when it feels like 2 steps forward and one back.
My living room is now mostly picked up. As is my kitchen. Tonight I tackled my bed, half buried in clean clothes that never got put away. (They’re on the chair now.) Pulled everything off and made the darn bed, only to realize I grabbed the torn sheet that I hold onto because…honestly, I don’t know why I hold onto it.
Two steps forward. One step back.
I’ll get there. You’ll get there. We’ll make it. It will work out. It will all be okay.
