The perspective that people are lazy was what drove me to try harder, always harder. Because it's not enough to just be as you are, you have to be more -- you're never doing/trying enough. This was my assumption about life.
I didn't want to be like everyone else. I thought I wasn't supposed to be.
Ordinary implies to me that there's nothing special or unique about it, but rather it's just like the others.
I believe that I am unique just as much as you are. I see how we each come at life differently and it's okay to be ourselves.
Realizing I am human, though, I can see that there is an ordinariness to me, a normalness I share with others. I am human -- messy and in progress. I share this commonality among others.
And this kind of ordinary is not a bad thing. It keeps my try-hard life quieted, less important than the choosing of rest in the moments of each day.
The quiet between my posts here are a reflection of the focus on my "semi-biggish project" -- on my worship. These October days are finding me a rhythm I wasn't sure was possible. I'm writing and churning and cranking out this book. Well, I'm stepping and He's leading. It's beautiful and it's hard; especially when I think of the editing and the fears I have associated with them, and especially when I'm tired, or when it's #WeekendWrite and The Boy-Man and I get up together and I've lost my time. And this, up above, how it connects to what I wrote this morning is astounding, miraculous-like -- it just happened without my trying.
This is day 11 of stepping forward -- of pursuing. #ThisIsMyWorship