This weekend was hard.

It was the first weekend in a long time that I had a lot of work that needed to get done.  It was work that was displaced from Friday when I was home with my “sick” daughter who had the lungs of someone with walking pneumonia, but had the energy of someone who is completely healthy, and used her lungs as if they were completely healthy too.

I was reminded that I am not a good person when I am stressed. I am not the person I want to be, for my family, for myself, in my life.

A big chunk of the work got done but there is much more to do still and the sense of overwhelm hasn’t left me.

This was my constant state in years past.  Now, I am reminded why I am fighting so hard to get away from that hamster wheel, why I am trying so hard to reclaim my time and my sense of self.

It is a journey.

Sometimes the journey is hard.

But, I am grateful that even when I feel most angry at the journey, at the world, at myself, I am not alone.

I am grateful for the prayers and encouragement of my pastor.

I am grateful for the enduring love of my family.

I am grateful for the indomitable spirit of my little one.

I am grateful for the strength to try again tomorrow.

It is a journey.

This weekend was hard.

It is time to rest.