If I'm being honest. . .
I want to write, and I've got nothing. No ideas, no passion, and no fire. At least not when I have a chance to sit down and write. I haven't posted in a month. It's been a pathetic excuse for a writing year. I just don't have it right now.
I want to pray, but it took a lot of energy and willpower just to shut off the TV tonight and go to my computer to type a prayer rather than watch just one more segment of one more show. I don't pray every day. I set a goal at the beginning of the year to sit down and type a prayer 200 times over the course of the year, and I'm not close. There's a week straight missing hear and there in the log. And it's become such a battle to get there.
I want to be in better shape, but I can't seem to just not eat junk. I work out often, knees screaming, just to maintain where I'm at. But that doesn't keep me from one more trip to the candy jar, or one more helping of supper.
I want to sleep but it comes on slowly and leaves me early. I walk around tired and wired from an endless string of cups of Folgers for the entirety of the work day. Exhausted by the end of the day, I repeat the cycle of not doing that which I want to do because I just don't have it in me to act.
I want more from myself. I want more for myself. I want the me I was created to be, the battler, the disciplined hard-worker who names what they will be and then does.
On the other hand. . .
I coached my daughter's soccer team tonight. She was fantastic. She plays with joy, plays hard, and listens when her coach is talking. We spent quality time together and will do so again in two nights.
Today I asked a future teacher who's been observing my classroom as part of his coursework what he's noticed. His response: "You take your job very seriously, and you know how to talk to kids." I'll take it.
I"m preparing this week: to present at the state English teachers conference, to officiate my sister's wedding, and to deliver my first sermon at my church in November. I'm excited about these opportunities.
My wife made tortellini tonight. It was delicious. And just about every other night we sit down as a family to eat, it's delicious. She loves to cook. She loves me. I win.
Tomorrow I will walk into a school where I get paid to talk about books. I will be greeted by friends who will make me laugh. The first cup of coffee will feel like a treat, not a crutch.
Pause. Stop. What have we learned from this post that began with nowhere to go and ended up here?
1. You will hardly ever feel like being the you that you want to be.
2. It is crazy what we allow ourselves to accept from ourselves on our own time as opposed to the time that's committed on our schedule or calendar.
3. Sometimes you just sit down and write and find out what comes out. Like right now.
4. Putting down the bag of candy corn led me to shut off the TV. Shutting off the TV led to prayer. Prayer led to writing. I hope writing leads to satisfactory sleep. Logic says, therefore, that candy corn is of the devil.
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