Some People Happy
I am on a Gretchen Rubin kick. She reminds me that it’s okay to construct my life and my habits on the foundation of who I am. This is not to say I shouldn’t regularly push past my own self-regard to give attention to others. But I also shouldn’t feel bad if I prefer walking the hills in my Greenville neighborhood to walking the Great Wall.
I woke up yesterday morning to the question of whether to attend the once-a-month large group gathering of women from our church. When each second Thursday rolls around, I practically drive myself crazy with this decision because it feels like I’m trying to figure myself out all over again. Do I like large groups? Does my family need me at home? Is this my chance to connect? Am I willing to drive across town? Will I miss out if I stay home? Will I miss out if I go out? I struggle to know if I need to “Accept myself, or expect more from myself,” as Rubin herself describes the tension.
TJ prayed with me yesterday morning, and all day I practiced letting God love the me that doesn’t want to enter the unknown, the me that craves family and familiar right under foot. Because I knew I would have many relational opportunities heading my way in the next few days, I allowed myself to be happy with the home option, satisfied with my small sphere of influence on a random Thursday in July.