In the Quiet

At the top of my to-do list when I left social media, was to blog more. I’m laughing as I sit at my keyboard penning my first blog since January. Even those blogs don’t count as my own thoughts and words. The lovely authors who shared their goals and hopes with us were fantastic to read.

I have heard reference to “the place where intentions go to die” and sometimes I think that is referring to me directly. I am the place intentions come to die. I have so many intentions, and I often fall short on the actions. Then, when I become acutely aware of my shortcomings, I race to change and fix all of it at one time. I attempt to become active and present in all of the areas I’ve convinced myself I should be. Honestly, it is too much for one person.

My husband and I have been discussing limits lately. I fired off an exhausted, frustrated text. I was feeling the squeeze of my limitations and I was angry and tired at the same time. I was trying to lament how badly I hate limitations, and instead, I conveyed that I hate when my husband points out my limits. It does grind my nerves when he is right, but I know he is telling me to slow down for my own good.

I am in a season where I don’t feel like I can slow down. The plates are all spinning and I am unsure if I can keep them spinning and precariously balanced. In the past, I have been able to see where to slow down (even if it was very hard for me to do), but I kind of feel stuck right now. Like I cannot see clearly what to do less of. I also know that in hindsight, it will be perfectly clear which plates I should have set down.

That’s just how hindsight works, isn’t it? 20/20

I also recognize that I am trying to do so much in my own strength – and that never works well, and because I am so determined to keep all these plates spinning, I haven’t asked the Lord to reveal which plates should be slowed down or stopped entirely. I think I’m afraid of the answer I will receive.

I’m most scared that I will be led away from homeschooling and writing. I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that the thought of giving up the horses/farm life isn’t a close third in things I’m afraid to give up. Then I know… God called us to this, He must have a plan to see us through it.

I’m not leaving tonight with some great call to action or some nugget of wisdom. I’m leaving tonight, still spinning too many plates, still afraid to ask which I’m supposed to let go of.

Do you ever throw too many irons in the fire? Is it hard for you to ask God what He wants you to give up?

Until next time,