Making peace.
Exhaustion. Sorrow. Anxiety. Worry. Restlessness. The blues. If only peace, once obtained, could define our lives forever. Untarnished and eternal peace could be my heaven, I suppose.
I have a question though. Would performing in a play be as exhilarating with out the stomach-butterflies beforehand? Would any book without conflict be worth the time spent reading?
No, I think. Peace could no more be sustained in unending ease than in a dynamic chaos, for longing finds even the most comfortable of us.
Here are two things I have learned about making personal peace:
1. Tranquility has little to do with outward circumstance; resting more on the condition of one's spiritual heart.
2. Making peace is an unending process.
Last night, laying next to Duke, I stared past the pages of my book into my own growing doubts and fears. I turned to him, telling him I was tired of having blue days. I tell you, sleeping next to my best friend is so very handy.
Today I wrote, on tiny papers, all the doubts, worries, and fears that plagued me. I took two envelopes, writing "Things I have some control over" on one and "Give to God" on the other; then dividing the little worries into the two envelopes, I sealed the letter for God and said a prayer of something-like-delegation. Now whenever I begin my routine fretting about these things, I remind myself that I've let them go with trust.
As you might imagine, my other envelope was quite full. Here's where I take my happiness and peace into my own hands, scheduling, planning, and goal-setting.
And then, naturally, I rearrange my furniture and brighten things up a bit.
I will not curl up and die to the tune of my own frustration. I know joy. And I want to know it again and again; having before breathed in the fleeting high of pure peace amidst a life of challenge.
Thus, I make peace with my situation. My role as a mother and wife. My shortcomings. I make peace with how far I've come and the distance I've left in my journey.
And now I'm feeling more green than blue.
I have a question though. Would performing in a play be as exhilarating with out the stomach-butterflies beforehand? Would any book without conflict be worth the time spent reading?
No, I think. Peace could no more be sustained in unending ease than in a dynamic chaos, for longing finds even the most comfortable of us.
Here are two things I have learned about making personal peace:
1. Tranquility has little to do with outward circumstance; resting more on the condition of one's spiritual heart.
2. Making peace is an unending process.
Last night, laying next to Duke, I stared past the pages of my book into my own growing doubts and fears. I turned to him, telling him I was tired of having blue days. I tell you, sleeping next to my best friend is so very handy.
Today I wrote, on tiny papers, all the doubts, worries, and fears that plagued me. I took two envelopes, writing "Things I have some control over" on one and "Give to God" on the other; then dividing the little worries into the two envelopes, I sealed the letter for God and said a prayer of something-like-delegation. Now whenever I begin my routine fretting about these things, I remind myself that I've let them go with trust.
As you might imagine, my other envelope was quite full. Here's where I take my happiness and peace into my own hands, scheduling, planning, and goal-setting.
And then, naturally, I rearrange my furniture and brighten things up a bit.
I will not curl up and die to the tune of my own frustration. I know joy. And I want to know it again and again; having before breathed in the fleeting high of pure peace amidst a life of challenge.
Thus, I make peace with my situation. My role as a mother and wife. My shortcomings. I make peace with how far I've come and the distance I've left in my journey.
And now I'm feeling more green than blue.
Comments
You are such a great example to me!
I usually go in and out of good times in spurts, 6 months of great routine, great habits, clean home, fresh bread made weekly, then 6 months of i hate everything, can hardly seem to keep things together, lose it with my children daily. it's so feast or famine.
Balance is the trickiest part of my life.
you're real and refreshing and a pleasure to read.
I'm Kelly from Rochester, NY- it's nice to meet you:)
Peace for me sometimes could come in a myriad of forms. As you could tell by my 'Sunday' post that peace for me would come in the form of my children treating each other with never ending kindness and consideration. And so I pray for when they are adults and are out of the house that they will wake up with a splendid and deep profound gratitude that they are eternal siblings and that they also are their brother's keeper.
My inner peace...try reading 'A gift from the sea' by Anne Morrow Lindbergh...she's oh so wise and oh so powerful.
You are pure gold Megan Marie:)
we are glad it has made a good home:)
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