It never fails to surprise me.
I push and go and create and do and mother and clean and write and travel and go and go and go. I love every moment of all of it! My brain spins at amazing speeds welcoming new and exciting experiences and ideas and hopes and people. I eat it up.
Until I don’t.
Then, I’m tired. I’m dry. I’m cranky. I’m restless. My heart needs to stop. My introvert can no longer be ignored. My soul is famished. I want to stop.
But I don’t.
I keep pushing and going and creating and doing and mothering and well, not much cleaning, and traveling and going. But I don’t love it. My brain has been flooded with new experiences and ideas and hopes and people but there is no more room to hold it all. I can’t absorb any more.
And then I get sick.
This time, it was a stomach flu that I will spare you the horrific details on but suffice it to say, I spent 48 hours in my bed doing nothing but being sick. And I realized that I had pushed beyond what was sane to expect of myself. And all I could do was wait for health to find me again.
This cycle has repeated itself countless times in my life. The first time I remember knowing it was in high school. It was spring time of my junior year. I had taken the ACT and SAT while preparing for UIL competitions in speaking while rehearsing for Spring Show–on a broken toe–while planning prom while fretting about a GPA high enough to get a scholarship. In one weekend, I slept maybe 2 hours (over the whole 3 days). Shockingly, I came down with mono on Sunday night. For two weeks, I did nothing but be sick.
In college, I spent every Christmas and Spring Break sick, in bed, at home. I would come home from my summer job, which I loved, and be sick for at least a week.
Now, before you go all spiritual on me, I associate with the servant who was given 5 talents. God has gifted me, I acknowledge. I want to serve wholeheartedly from those gifts. I want to hear “Well done, good and faithful servant.” But, I think that I have to earn it. I think that if I don’t do EVERY. SINGLE. THING. then I am not honoring what God has placed in me.
Its perfectionism. It drives me beyond the Rhythm of Life I have covenanted to with God. It pushes me beyond the boundaries I set for being away from my family. It keeps me awake at night. It stops the creative flow of words. It shoves me out of living life from abundance into believing that I cannot be enough.
And it never fails to catch me by surprise.