Every now and then my three year old self threatens to come out. She threatens to throw a tantrum, leave a mess in her wake and demand my full attention. She can be relentless, especially if what she needs is rest. Maybe in the form of a nap, maybe in the form of a break from the all screens (phone, laptop, television), maybe from her playmates aka friends. Barely twenty four hours after being home she was beyond ready to come out and I at almost 35 wasn’t even close to welcoming her. I had too much almost 35 year old stuff to do. There was a bag to be unpacked and a new one repacked, groceries to get, clients o prepare for, invoices to send, university work to do, emails to send, friends and family to check in on, weekend plans to firm up, bills to pay, shoes to return to Macy’s, the gym to get to, etc. I kept her in check until my energy to do so was so low that in my exhaustion (or God’s kindness and wisdom) I considered giving her, me, what my body, mind, and heart was telling me it needed. It needed something different, something more in touch with my present reality, something that responded to my present reality with more grace and less grin and bear it.
I climbed into bed Saturday night, reached for the light, and didn’t set my alarm to get up for my usual Sunday routine. I’d sleep until my body was ready to wake up. I woke up Sunday and put on the kettle for tea, giving myself time to wash the dishes from the day before. “Go slow, be gracious, listen to what your body needs,” I told myself as I slowly sipped my tea in the glorious sunlight filling my living room. Scanning the apartment there seemed to be much to do. “This is why three year olds have parents,” I thought. Parents who do all that my eyes were taking in- file taxes, do laundry, pack suitcases, return items to department stores, etc.- take care of all the things that demand the attention of us adults.
I won’t lie, I wanted to tornado through my apartment and handle every single thing that needed handling, run errands while enjoying the brilliantly sunny warm spring day, and attend evening service at a church I recently learned about. In that same moment of honesty about my wants there was honesty about my needs. Three year old me is just so good at being honest about what I need. What I needed more than what I wanted was to accept that the past three weeks were anything but normal for me and the week ahead would be no different. Clinging to preferred routines simply wouldn’t work. I’d have to give myself some grace to adjust to my current reality, one that required a different pace, a different way of practicing self care, a different way of connecting to loved ones.
It’s so tempting and easy to hold ourselves hostage to our past, our expectations at work, home, in our friendships, romantic relationships, as parents, etc. We are acutely aware of how to press on, lean in, hold out, not give up or in, be resilient, tough, grit it out, etc. I knew I’d have to practice grit- the grit to be gracious. To be compassionate, to hang in there and go slow, yield, surrender, rest, reimagine. I’d have to hang in there as I edited the to do list to make it shorter, more representative of my current reality, more trusting that God will help me discern what needed tending to soon, later, or not at all. I’d have to persevere through negating my default of push through even if it means exhaustion, random crying spells, irritability, and coaxing myself by saying “It could be worse, your fine.”
I’d have to lean into each “ “Not today” and “No thank you” as I loosened my grip on the belief that the more I showed up for friends the better friend I was…even if showing up was a cost to me. I’d have to grit it out when being compassionate, truly tender, and authentically surrendered to the belief that God is worthy of my trust and reliance, especially when it was taking longer than I wanted.
Let’s be honest, it’s a process. Trust in God and in people is a process. So, I totally relinquished my Sunday to what I needed, and when I woke up Monday realizing I needed to continue what I started Sunday…I was confused. I thought Sunday was enough.
We do that sometimes. We think the one day of no creamer in the coffee, a few squats in the bathroom while brushing our teeth, veggies at lunch and dinner, and walking from the third to fifth floor should totally mean we can squeeze into the skinny jeans the next morning. Skipping Starbucks for a week should definitely have saved us more like $75.00 not $27.34 at the end of the week. Saying we’re sorry should absolutely mean we are back to how it was. Our sorry totally means the thing that happened pretty much didn’t happen. The forgiveness we extended a year ago to the family member who molested us when we were 5 should mean we’re totally ready to be around them the upcoming biannual family reunion. Starting therapy and going for three weeks should mean our life is fixed and depression should already be referred to as something we had once but got over. Right?! Wrong. We know it doesn’t work that way and honestly neither does truly learning to be gracious with ourselves, truly learning to rest, to release, to recover, to change, to trust God’ grace for our lives in every season of our lives. It’s not a one and done deal.
Don’t hang your head, close this tab, or roll your eyes. Please hang in there with me just a smidge longer. Grit it out with me please and thank you!
There is real grit to be gracious. To learn to, to shift to, to cultivate and live into a way of life that becomes increasingly about honoring your authentic self, those things your inner 3, 4, 5, 6, 7 year old self has right, that person God had in mind when He gave the green light for your conception and birth. You’ve just got to be diligent about the slowness, the lack of comparison, the tenderness and compassion you need, and to the good plan tailor made for you. You’ve got to be real real about truly being open to trusting and believing that every single word that God has spoken about you is true and real, not some pick up line or steeply discounted fantasy He’s trying to sell you. You can have what He says you can have, do what He says you can do, be who He says you can be.
Jesus was fully God (and He still is fully God) and lived on the earth for 33 years. I used to think to myself, He was so young when He fulfilled His purpose. Like He just did ALL that He was called to do in that time. #mindblown I’m older than when Jesus walked the earth and still not as together as I desire. But I am realizing for a whole God, like not part God, not a step below God, 33 years is long. As the perfect infallible supreme being, it took 33 years to accomplish one thing? Jesus practiced the grit to be gracious not just with us human folk but I imagine even with himself. Cause if He wanted He could have did all He did in 33 years in 3 seconds. #Godgotgrit
I’m finished this post on my flight to get away and retreat out on the west coast in the city that I love. While I’ve been there so many times before, this trip was different. I designed it to be a retreat and not a creative revamp, talk entrepreneurship with my auntie who is a phenomenal small business consultant, shop til I have to fed ex packages home to myself, and whirlwind catch up with friends. I am living into my grit to be gracious, to be slow, to be compassionate, to be quiet, still, more attuned to me and who God is fashioning me to be. My prayer for you this week is that you live into your grit to be gracious.
Go slow, rest, release your grip on what should be and tenderly work with what is before you, practice tenderness and self -compassion, pause, breathe.
Listen to your inner little one who I am certain has some real honest things to say to you, some things that I’m sure God in His love and grace is also saying to you, some things that aren’t as scary as you may think and probably as loving and insightful as you need.
With Love,
Grit + Grace