When Resiliency is Gone

I used to be resilient.

Resilience is defined by some random internet site as this:

: the ability to become strong, healthy, or successful again after something bad happens

: the ability of something to return to its original shape after it has been pulled, stretched, pressed, bent, etc.

Six, maybe seven months ago, if you were a friend of mine, you might have used that word to describe me.

I have overcome a lot in this little life of mine.

And now, I am admitting defeat.

It is time to say no to almost every single commitment.

It is time to sit and be quiet and contemplate and stop moving all the time.

Sitting still is going to heal my heart.

Because, in the silence, I am ever so hopeful that I will meet the person I have become.

That Christ will remind me who I am in his eyes.

Because, as it stands, I don't think I have ever been so ill at ease with myself.

I have changed this year and I do not know her.

I am angry these days.  Did you see my last post?!   Whoa.

I am sad these days.

My soul is tired.

Life has been disappointing.

My faith is a tattered garment.

Conversely,  there things about myself that I fully know and accept as true and good.

I love Dr. Who.

I love short hair.

I love bright tattoos.

I love my kids.

I love my husband.

I want to cook more.

I want to cook more with my kids.

I want to make more meals that Jon loves.

I want to treat my friends to a coffee, just because I can.

I am friendly.

I love to laugh.

I have missed laughter.

My home is an extension of me.

I am a crier.

I love this space where I can put my thoughts.