I am doing hard work. The hard work of life. Are you working this job, too?
Lately, it has been keeping me from e-mails and blogging like the bygone. My mind feeling a little foggy, but my soul clearer. Did I unload the dishwasher? I can’t remember. But, I am remembering not to carry the whole load of life. My literal laundry left lingering, lately. But, I’m refusing to let hurt, fears, worry, and what if’s pile up. I have to sort them right away. And, wash away the residue that wants to stain and saturate my life. This is hard work.
For years, I ignored the hard work. Not completely. I’d look at it. Think about it. Re-arrange piles and spot treat. Think about. Obsess about. Think about it more. I couldn’t seem to do the hard work and the house work. The babies and the blog. I did what I could, when I could. I managed. I’ve always managed. Until,
I couldn’t manage. Until, one day I got knocked straight off my feet. Dealt a load thats, now, been lingering for years. I won’t air out any laundry. Just the truth that some days we make our own messes and other days we are the local laundromat. And, no matter which way the pile piles, if we don’t work through it, it will over take us.
I’m working my way through piles. For a long time I couldn’t manage to start sorting. I had to sit and take the site in. Piles. Mountains. Loads. Contemplate sorting. Distract my self with the dishes and every other thing that needed to-doing. Until, one day I started slowly. Sorting. Then spot treating. Next thing I knew . . . Spin cycle. Wringing out. Left out to dry. Rinse and repeat.
Now, I’m partaking in the process. Doing the work. Can’t let the laundry linger. I have to soak it. Get the stain out. Do the work. Rinse and Repeat.
Hours spent reading, underlining, trying, and applying. Days spent writing and working through what I don’t want to wear.
Praying and Practicing.
Failing and flailing.
Rinse and Repeat.
Sorting, spot treating, washing and wringing.
Ironing out what I do want to wear.
Packing up and parting with what cannot be mended.
And, mending up what I thought was too worn.
Practicing. Praying. Working. Writing.
Rinse and Repeat.
Letting go of lingering everything else, because most times it can wait.
A heart can be much heavier then a house.
A clear soul relied upon, even with a foggy mind.
It’s either soiling self pity or hand callousing hard work.
I’m not letting it pile up, even if it means the e-mails do. I’ll take frozen pizza over a frozen soul. And, miss a shower over missing out on living life.
Facing things face on is hard work. Working through the piles instead of just pondering into paralysis is painful. But, not doing the work is more painful.
I’ll rinse and repeat.
I don’t know what you are putting off. What you are carrying. What has piled up. If you can sort. If you’ve tried to spot treat. If you are going through the wringer. If you have been left out to dry. All of it can feel really unpleasant and straight up painful. As I practice, I’m praying for you. Praying that you can iron it all out. One worn item at a time. That you’ll embrace wearing your robe all day if it means you won’t be wearing regret the rest of your days. And, that you won’t carry your heavy load or just look at it and let it linger. Rather, that you find the courage to do the hard work. Rinse and repeat.