My mind scatters and every distraction matters.  I didn’t even sit down to start this week’s post until three in the afternoon on Sunday.  My mind raced from subject to phrases.  It is dark inside me.  I don’t enjoy sharing that part of me.  I prefer to be positive in my writing.  It’s been a tough few weeks.

²³ Let us hold fast the confession of our hope without wavering, for He who promised is faithful.   [Hebrews 10:23 NKJV]

We dwelt with getting the cabin started, storm concerns, chronic pain, and fatigue.  First, there was the trip to our mountain home, then preparing for Hurricane Dorian, and working the Emergency Operations Center.  There are other situations I am not at liberty to discuss.  On top of everything else, I’ve gotten away from my pain management routine.

On Saturday I went to a twelve-step program that supports family members.  I’m still new to the process and raw inside as I struggle to learn a new way of thinking.  Listening to the wisdom for those who’ve been working the program, I jotted down the following notes (unedited):

“Chronic pain drives you to distract yourself.  Through my life, I have distracted myself with projects, painkillers, entertainment, food, work, family, and worry.  The self-destructive behavior has almost destroyed my health.”

I thought about not writing a post this week.  Just let it ride and pick it up another time.  But then the blog wouldn’t be honest.  I’m following my transition to my dream.  And just like real life, some days are better than others.  The storm and my messed up routines have triggered physical pain.  I’m juggling new projects.  There is the overwhelming pressure to fix things for other people in my life even when I know fixing stuff for others hurts more than it helps.  I want to forget the work and worries.  I want to do my stuff.  {My inner child stamps her foot here!}

Yesterday at another smaller meeting I was asked to give my thoughts.  My answer was all over the place.  I found it hard to keep track of what I was saying.  What must they think?  Hoo Boy!  Can you say “a hot mess?”  I have to say the group assured me they have all been there.  I am not alone.

Driving home I realized; I need to write about it.  It doesn’t matter if the post ends up being all over the place and messy.  This is where I am on the journey; it is okay to share my confused thoughts.  We all have times when we muddle through the middle.

Can you see this place in the journey?  I see a monotonous stretch of road ahead.  The sun is high and bright obscuring my view.  It looks like the road stretches on forever with no end and no shelter.  If I turn 180 degrees around, the road is mottled with sunlight and shade.  I cannot see where I started.  Either way, I have a long way to walk.  Then I wonder where my water bottle is…

When we are here in the middle with no beginning or end in sight, we have choices to make.  A few years ago God promised me a future and a hope (Jeremiah 29:11).  There is always hope.  So the choices are to forge a new path across the wilderness, move forward or turn around.  None of these are right or wrong.  It depends on what we need.

Sometimes that choice is to turn around and head back home.  I did this two years ago when dad’s doctor diagnosed him with Parkinson’s and dementia.  I felt I had to delay my journey.  It wasn’t a delay.  I am blessed I took the detour because I turned around and went home for a time.  I received partial reconciliation with my father.  He loved me, in his own quirky way he loved me.  I found what I’d hoped for and it was the love I needed to say goodbye when the time came.

Today in prayer I step forward to a future and a hope.  I am emptying my nest.  By the way that includes me!  Can I nudge my fledgling eagles to fly away?  Can I let them be the men and women they are?  Can I build my mountain dream?  I don’t know.

In less than two years, we will be leaving the beach town nest to make our way in different parts of the world.  I can’t do this alone.  My God is here to get me out of my comfort zone and into a future and a hope.

A few times when my kids were growing up too fast, a wise Christian woman once told me to “enjoy every phase.”  Funny I remembered that as I was writing this post. {Smile}  Maybe she sent a prayer to the Holy Spirit to remind me to find the joy in every phase of the process.  Whether it is growing up with the kids or figuring out how to build a dream.

Let’s enjoy this phase.  I feel better.  I hope you do too.  No matter how crazy or disorganized the journey seems; there is always a hope.

Keep your hand on the wheel and your eye on the Star.  He is our future and hope.  God Bless,

Milly

P.S:  It is amazing how healing writing is for me.  I felt raw writing the first part of this post.  Now I feel peaceful.  Thank you for allowing me to share with you today.