Wallowing in Overwhelm
Oh, my friends, I am overwhelmed. As per the usual, I have allowed my passion and enthusiasm to fill my plate full to bursting, with plenty extra slopping over the edges. I am taking four classes in ministerial school, finishing an album, directing music for an event, working on a book... I'll spare you the full rant. Suffice it to say, it's a really long list. I'm feeling stressed out and freaked out, like there's no way I could ever catch up to my self-imposed deadlines or dig myself out from under this mountain of tasks. And yet, I love every activity I've signed on for. I adore my time in school. I revel in musical pursuits of all kinds. Writing is one of my very favorite ways to spend my time.
And so, I've decided to stop fighting it. I've decided to let the sense of overwhelm overwhelm me. But I'm going to do it on my terms. As Grace Gealey wrote, "Let us swell with gratitude and allow it to overwhelm us. It isn't as cliche as we make it; life is truly short. Let's spend it all lavishly wallowing in gratitude."
I am so thankful that I have a life in which I can pursue my passion projects with abandon. I am beyond grateful for the presence of music in my life -- a gift I denied myself for many years. I give thanks for the palpable presence of Spirit in every realm of my life. I'm grateful for my enormous family and all the craziness that ensues. I appreciate my friends and my church and my clients and my readers and my fans (you know who you are!) and even my detractors, as they give me the opportunity to grow and stretch even more. I am thankful for my tiny office, and even more thankful that my husband and kids let me hole up in here and get real work done. I am grateful I was gifted with this expansive intellect and creative soul that keeps coming up with new ideas and adding items to that list. I'm grateful that I will never be done, because there is always another wonderful thing to do or try or learn or create. I am overwhelmed with gratitude, because there is so, so, so much good.