I am easily overwhelmed. I’m easily knocked off kilter. My feelings are very tender. And for the past three days I’ve been overwhelmed, off kilter and a little bruised. Too much to do. Not feeling well. A little lost. Too many things on my plate.
And I didn’t react well to any of it. That’s not typically suprising. But, lately I’d prided myself on keeping it together, being centered and prioritizing. Somehow I thought I’d left that struggling, nervous girl behind. Not that I was perfect, not that there weren’t slumps, but somehow I seemed to take it all a little better, a little more in stride.
I do find pride, however, in the fact that after my initial reaction to the stress, I pulled myself out of it. I did. I took a deep breath. I began to attack things Bird by Bird and somehow I dug out of it.
And when I say “dug out of it”, I mean literally. The garden, the sweet, sweet garden, that isn’t magnificent by most standards, but it’s gorgeous to me. It’s being outside. It’s being in the dirt, it’s watching God’s handiwork grow and flourish.
I joke that I have a happy place I tend to visit whenever I want to escape. I never realized it was so tangible.