Today was a good day. One of the best days in many. One of the first days in a long time when I came home from my day on campus when I didn't feel overwhelmed with how tired I was and how much more stuff I had to do still. I feel like maybe the pressure may be releasing just a little and that is great although it feels a little wierd, unnatural. But it is nice. It is nice to know what I am not carrying more than my little back can weather.

I have been thinking pretty much constantly in the past few weeks about how in America, we force this incredable pace upon ourselves. How to be less than "full-time" anything is an unspeakable sin. If every minute of your day is not bursting, then you are either in trouble or selfish. That or irresponsible. Never about taking care of your body or embracing the fresh air or clear blue sky. Maybe we are afraid of the silence too much and it frightens us more when we find someone else strong enough to brave it. The strength to acknowledge the reality of our weakness.

It is so easy to think away, rationalize away, the pain pounding pounding pounding at our hearts. I have been thinking a lot about the dialogues that go on inside of me on a regular basis and I realize I have done a lot of defining, putting a lot of things in a lot of boxes. A lot of choices put in thier coresponding consequential boxes. And I forget about grace. I forget about mercy. I forget that I am not made to shoulder all this weight, as much as I think it should be possible in some metaphysical way. There has to be a way. If I just work hard, the unrealistic number of things that I have chosen to commit myself to do will somehow magically fit into that box. But there is grace. One of my favorite songs is "Phobic" by Plum, which says Grace means room to breath. Grace means a little more freedom. I don't think we allow ourselves or each other nearly enough room to breathe. And that is a problem, as lazy as that sounds.

Last night after doing all the studying I could handle for the night, I opened my journal just to reflect a bit on the day and to seek God on the challenge he is bringing me today and I just made the choice to stop and listen for a minute. I stopped writing the things my brain wanted to say and started just writing the words Abba was dictating to my heart. And you know what I heard? All the things I that I had been hearing all along, but pushing away to the side, pushing pushing pushing with all of my strength, pushing closed the flood gates of truth that Abba was trying to get through the little cracks. Words like I love you. I am here with you. I have equipped you. I see that ache in your back. I hear the shortness of your breath. I am taking care of you. Your intution about me is right becuase it has been me speaking. All of this stuff that I was hoping and praying and dying to believe was true, but not believing. Being too prideful and habit-driven to embrace. Do you even have those moments? I fear I am doing a poor job of expressing this breath that rushed through me last night. But that's just what it was. It was a moment that I took to acknowledge the breath. And it was wonderful.