Ordering By Doing Nothing Urgent

I have not blogged in a while, due to my lack of ordering. I have not given myself permission to sit or read or write since before my camping trip. I haven't claimed any structured writing time, and have been constantly taking on other's stresses, their childcare needs, their moves, their hard days as if I am the only answer. My beautiful line, "I'm not feeling up to it," does not seem to compute with my bobbing head. We have been to cabins, had people here, camped, and said good-bye to the many who  transitioned to better lives outside Ann Arbor (which feels like everyone at this time of year).

I sit here between returning from a weekend trip, having family guests, leading the singing for Kids Camp and feel uncertain about what I should be doing in this moment between events. Writing seems somehow wrong, a waste as I avoid the to do's that will swallow me any minute. Beyond the set items, I keep thinking I need to be available to fifteen different people, supporting their immediate needs. The truth is I just don't trust that God has them and he is taking care of things (or maybe that they are capable of taking care of themselves?). I keep praying backwards for each of them, but the knot in my stomach doesn't loosen.

Oprah talked with Brene Brown about perfectionism as a way to avoid shame. In the article it says, "I am what I accomplish and how well I accomplish it." It's all about other people and avoiding. 

Read more: http://www.oprah.com/spirit/Life-Lessons-We-All-Need-to-Learn-Brene-Brown/2#ixzz2X9sV3Wv2

I am struck for the hundred and fourth time about how God is gifting me and that success or enjoyment in any of what I have, is a good goal. Just writing a sentence is a good choice. Believing I can sing and remember the words and I can be enough for my kids even when I am not there for a day, is a good choice. I don't need to feel guilty for not being enough, apologize for not doing more, try to squirm away from eyes, wait for a person to come and tell me a better way. I simply need to claim my own capabilities, and fight for living in the joy of imperfection, of chords strums or frog notes, sitting with my coffee and bottled water and listening to the buzz of a near-by air machines trying to fight back the heat.