My Own "F" Words
Hold on. Please keep reading. I want you to stop caring so that you can show more love. Wait, what? You’re not making sense Elizabeth. Stay with me please. Stop caring about what others think of you. I’m not perfect. I still care too much about what others think of me. Think of my cookies.
I was looking for a reason not to run this morning. I just didn’t want to go. So I told myself not to worry about my time. Not to worry about my distance. Just to go out and enjoy nature. As I went to turn on my podcast that I’ve been listening to I instead
The world has slowed down by choice and by force. It’s a scary time of uncertainty and worry. I remember weeks ago as whispers started and the panic buying started grabbing a pack of toilet paper from Costco and two cases of water after seeing a line of people dragging away carts and pallets full.
My prayer list has grown longer and longer these days. Desperate prayers. Some small, some big. As I write this my eyes are heavy as the kiddos joined me in bed at 4:00 AM and were up for the day by 6:00 AM. I struggle to find the energy to even think of meals today.
I’m in this weird place lately. Fueled by pregnancy hormones and made worse by Texas heat, I’ve been struggling lately. I’ve been selfishly letting small things become bigger than they need to be. I’m not where I want to be mentally, emotionally, or physically. Last night I cried after a video chat with my husband
E. A. McComas 