broken rythmn

I am taking a break from studying, replying and sorting through emails, updating my computer, addressing envelopes, taking care of business emails, writing assignments, preparing for tonight's Bible study lesson, returning phone calls; all things I've been trying to cram into the past few hours that I have sat here at the office.  I will have to leave from here in a few minutes to go to the post office, the store, and then the Chinese mission.  But first, in a burst of rebellion from my to-do list, I am going to put up a quick blog.  Not because it has a deadline attached to it, by golly, but because I am on a quest to live well and sometimes that means doing things that aren't completely necessary.  But then, on the other hand, who  is to say that taking time for mental health moments isn't neccesary? 

In the midst of the busyness that fill my days, I more and more realize that one thing that does not fill my weeks is rhythm.  This is something I struggle with as a single adult... the proverbial green grass, where having a family and being a full time homemaker lies, beckons to me with a steady beat of rhythm.  Being a single adult, at least being me as a single adult, involves a lot of hats to wear, while performing a juggling routine.  The pressures I place on myself to do my best at being a daughter, a sister, a granddaughter, a mentor, a friend, a volunteer teacher, a business professional, a student, a decent housekeeper (in training), an aspiring gardener (very much in training), all while keeping the car repaired, the bills payed, getting enough sleep, helping with whatever needs helping with, exercising, knowing when to stop and "smell the roses", and all the other odds and ends of life can pile up.  The pile-up leads to a constant mental pressure that feels like an elephant is sitting on your brain.  You know the feeling, right?   Because I am trying to do all these things at once, I am constantly trying to catch up... except, I never do.  I am so busy completing tasks with deadlines, or trying to catch up, that I rarely have a steady pace in my everyday schedule.  I don't like that.

I love the sweet way my mom raised us...  a slow pace... weekly piano lessons in Small Town... monthly nursing home visits... school at home every day... and playing outside or chores all inbetween.    We had a slow, steady, and sweet rythmn... we knew what to expect each day, usually.  There was a peace and calmness about it. 

Surely we were created for a steady rhythm and a majestic calmness?  Or perhaps there are seasons of both schedule steadiness and seasons of schedule schisms, each in turn?

Whatever the case, joy must be found in the dance of the everyday- whether the music I dance to is agitato or tempo semplice.   If joy cannot be found in one, what makes me think it will be found in the other? 

Oh well... it will all work itself out... in the mean time, I have a Helper.

Behold, God is mine Helper.  (Ps. 54:4)

And that's all I really need to know for today. 

Okay, it's off to the post office and beyond!  The therapy of pen of paper, or fingers on keyboard, never fails. 

(I don't have time to proofread, so I apologize in advance of the error of my ways.)