Eleven days left.

I have to say, I believe this six week sabbatical was most certainly on God's calendar.. before time even began. Can you imagine? That God knew.. before the planets and stars were made, that me.. little old me.. would need six weeks off from work.. for more reasons that just for surgery? I believe it. Do you believe He does these things for you?

The reasons I believe it, is because had I not had this time off to putter around, do laundry, run lazy errands, make soup, take a shower when I feel like it, to see friends in the early afternoon.. I would have worked myself into an absolute nervous breakdown.

Though, I still believe I had a moderate breakdown in the spring.. I kept holding on to the six weeks I knew was coming up.

I'd forgotten about how one's job should not overtake you. I'd forgotten about grace. I'd forgotten about leisurely driving to the beach.. listening to old standards, watching independent films, cooking, baking.. LIVING. I became all too consumed in WORKING, SERVING, SLEEPING, WORKING, SERVING, SLEEPING, WORKING, SERVING, SLEEPING.. that there was little time left for anything else. And if I did have a free afternoon, I was too overwrought with guilt for NOT being busy doing something.. that I couldn't sit still.

I lived comparatively, you see. I watched others living their lives, seeing how they operated.. and tried to do what they did. Friends who had full time jobs, numerous kids, spouses, chores at home.. who maybe had five minutes to themselves in a day.. and I figured.. I've got all this free time because I'm single, I ought to at least do as much as them.. if not more. I tried to force myself into a mold that I don't believe God ever intended for me to fit into. I had refused my mold, as if it wasn't good enough, that my leisurely Saturday afternoons should have tons of activities because everyone ELSE was busy doing their thing, with their families.. and that those afternoons are just fine.. as they are.

But that's not me.. nor has it ever been. I've never been a task-master, chore-tackler, worker-bee, list-maker, organizer etc.. It's just not how I'm wired. I tend to do laundry when I feel like it, and when I do wash clothes.. I take joy in it. I do dishes when I feel like, and when I do wash them.. I put some music on, light candles.. make a cup of tea.. and also take joy in it. I refuse to perform a chore when it's not in my heart.. because doing something that's joyless, seems utterly horrible. I'd rather my house fall apart and look a mess than constantly wrestle with a mountain that will never be tamed anyway.

I suppose some of my friends with kids don't have this choice, and if you don't have the choice.. (I hope, that if you presently don't.. that you would find a way to take joy in your daily routines, that you would make a thing of it and spoil yourself a little by rewarding yourself after you have completed a task....) But I on the other hand, do have this choice. It's not that I'm lazy, but if there's no meaning to it, if I can't make an artform of washing dishes, dusting, mopping.. I'd rather just leave it for another day.

Joyless tasks can suck the life out of you. There is a way to add joy to your day. I'm so grateful that I've been given this space and time to 'Return to my Home', which is a phrase I remember the Lord put on my heart back in June.. to return to my first love, and this is my first passion... MY HOME.