Give It Up

The fight in me...

There's a certain way I want things to go. Our house, our money, our kids, my days, my relationships. I want things to fall in the right place, in the right order~nothing crazy, thank you very much. And I'm willing to fight for this. I will actually throw quite the tantrum when my life starts to jump off the tracks I have laid. I have laid very good tracks! They are wise and responsible and healthy, and ensure safety and comfort and control.

Ah, but this life is messy. No matter that I walked into it thinking I could keep it neat based on my own merit and self-confidence--and self-preservation. It has gotten out of control. And now this messy life is making me crazy, too. After constantly picking up I'm thinking that maybe I just need to give up.

To be generous.

Oh, crap. (I don't like the sound of that.)

To stop hoarding my time, my money, my heart, my quiet. I actually have those things to give.
Nobody is trying to take them from me.
Nobody is trying to take them from me.
They need them.
We need each other.

I am not vulnerable. I am not a victim.
I have been equipped with every spiritual gift.
I have gifts to give--not stockpile.

And the freedom we find in giving up. To peel my fingers off my dinky, plastic train tracks and let cereal spill all over the floor. To pry my greedy hands from my hot coffee cup and listen to my son trying to explain himself. To shut up for once and actually hear what my daughter has to say for herself. To generously make this home--without fuming about unfair expectations and female roles. To be patient with those who frustrate, to love those who frighten, to serve those who disappoint--to realize that, even in all my glory, I frustrate and frighten and disappoint.
To tolerate imperfection in myself, so I can tolerate imperfection in others.