Woke up earlier than usual this morning. Stayed in bed 'til six, then heard the Voice in my head tell me to go outside. The sun was beginning to make the sky light, but the chickens still slept. As soon as I opened the back door, though, the sounds of the birds along with traffic on the main drag a few streets north of us hit me. Loud. And we'd slept with the window open. I'd not known how loud it'd be. My goodness. Usually when I let the chickens out I'm not interested in experiencing nature. Just get 'er done.
Took a blanket out with me and sat in the cherry Adirondack chair Gary'd made. Looked up and watched the stars fade away. Wished I'd gotten out there about half an hour earlier. I love the moment when the sky is black and it slowly turns blue. Saw a hawk in the next door neighbor's tree---way, way up. Heard the local owl across the street, hooting before going to sleep. The little birds raided the chicken feed that'd gotten knocked out of their dish the night before. Safe in the backyard.
Stayed out long enough to see the sun rise far enough to slip into the chicken coop. They kerflumped off of their roost, and began making noise. Let them out, fed them, and went back inside. Got into bed, reset the alarm and got up again at just before ten. It was enough.
* * *
I'm realizing the dear importance of taking time, and slowing down. Those aren't really the same thing. You can take time to do things, but run through them. Sort of defeats the purpose. I'm being more deliberate. I feel fragile. But I like it.
The Lord told me last week that this period would be a blessing to me. That the need for me to stop was necessary so I'd not self-destruct. I know that's true.
Sitting for about half an hour with chickens everyday when it's not raining. Milk hops up, and now Nora is a regular lap-sitter as well. Two hens all cozied up in my lap. Heaven.
I can't really explain to my husband what's going on. He's a fixer and while he tries to understand, it's enough for him that I'm not running around like mad. My temper is settled, and I'm not so quick to lose my cool. I've been like a live wire for so long. Now I'm not. I pay a price for that now that's not a good exchange.
My advice. When you feel like you're losing control on a regular basis, make changes. Two women at church are 'doers'....they have a strong servant's heart going on, both of them. I was sharing with one of them on Sunday and she had a glazed look on her face. Told me about a girl who had to leave church (I mentioned a bit ago), who had Adrenal Failure. Sounds serious. But this friend couldn't see where she was headed herself. We're not machines. And I don't think the Lord would have us live like it.
Rest well.
