Continuing on with my Write 31 Days theme of "31 Days to Slowing Down and Living More Simply" with reflections based on my reading of Emily P. Freeman's book Simply Tuesday and the prompts given at the FMFW page. My "Five Minute Free Write" portion will be enclosed with // and any extra thoughts will follow.
// Really? Me? I don’t know, I wasn’t expecting this. It’s funny, I want so much to be known and understood, just like everyone. And I seem so full of words most of the time, attempts to translate myself into… an acceptable form? Yet when faced with the chance, words seem to fall short. And I am faced with a dilemma as well – will I make myself acceptable? Or will I be real? Can I even be real with myself?
Sometimes I think I don’t even really know myself. I keep discovering more day after day. I thought I was patient. But then I faced the messes and noises and interruptions of the day. I thought I loved, but then my desires were thwarted. I thought I had faith, but then questions arose and I was afraid. //
I thought I was weak, but then I found I could stand firm for something I believed in. I thought I was timid, but then I stepped out into risk. I thought I was only one way, but then I found I was growing. Changing. Constantly evolving.
I don’t have a nifty catch-phrase to encapsulate who I am. I don’t have the skill with words to give a verbal snapshot. Einstein said that you don’t really understand something well if you can’t explain it simply.
So I guess what I’m saying is, I don’t really understand myself.
And I am so thankful that that is okay. I am so thankful that I am not the central character in the play. I can just keep looking to the One who is “I AM” – the same yesterday, today and forever. Not whimsical and capricious, He is steady and sure and clearly displayed to us in the midst of His mystery. So I relax and confess…
I am little, unimportant, insignificant. I am not Creator, but created. I am not perfect, but loved. I am not brilliant, but accepted. I am just broken pottery, but indwelled with surpassing power. In this acceptance of my smallness lies profound relief.
The world is not on my shoulders.
And I begin to understand what Emily P. Freemen meant about celebrating our smallness. It’s not so much celebrating my smallness as celebrating His bigness. He is big enough to carry my smallness and the rest of the world, too.