it's hard to see her grieve, to watch her experience pain, to observe her process deep, gut-wrenching emotion.
it's so hard that I'd like to take it from her. To remove the struggle, to make right the wrong, to heal the pain, but I can't.
it's a time when I am wrestling with my own sense of purpose, a time when I want to make the best next step, to make the perfect decision, to lead well.
it's a time of obedience. of seeking. of prayer.
so, I awaken with a thought in my mind; one singular step, a direction. and I know I can blow this or I can take the next step. so, I do. texting my friend, I offer to walk her dogs. (I've never walked two labs). I risk; putting myself out there in relationship and I wait for her response.
she thinks I'm crazy; drive forty minutes to walk two dogs, but she agrees to let me come. so I do.
I walk the dogs.
It's my step of obedience.
It's the process of obedience, the practice of Christ-following.
On the way home, I call another friend. We decide to hold each other accountable to making supper for our families: this isn't obvious or guaranteed and it isn't expected. That's the era I live in, working mom where suppers around the table every night are the exception and not the rule.
That's the next step of obedience, show love and care, service and kindness to my family.
God is ordering my day without me knowing it and the daily anxiety and overwhelmingness of being a wife and mother, director and leader fall away. The second guessing, the guilt-inducing, the temptation-seducing leaves. I'm too busy for those head games today. I'm taking one step after another to follow God. And the thing is, I don't mind it a bit. In fact, I kind of like it. The responsibility is on God's shoulders, not mine. The weight of living right, of performing perfectly, of measuring up to everyone else's expectation isn't clogging me up or weighing me down. I am simply living. As a daughter of the king, I am following orders and I feel free.
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