Maybe I can give myself some grace for being in a season of change. Change is hard even if it’s positive. Sure, this season is agonizingly longer than winter, spring, summer, and fall combined but I’m doing something powerful for myself that is literally saving my life.
If I hadn’t had the courage to take the first baby step toward change, I would definitely be on my way to the grave. Either from physical health deteriorating or depression finally winning me over. And that is really fucking scary. More terrifying than working toward change, for sure.
At the beginning of all of this grace wasn’t part of my daily vocabulary. I didn’t grasp the concept for months, and I’m still not sure I have it down, but what I do know is that I am continually trying very hard to live again. To have grace for myself. To be kinder and speak nicer to myself, and to take care of the one and only body God gave me.
I started to realize that mistakes were bound to happen and that was a rough go with self-criticism and feelings of failure, but now that I am able to have grace for my mistakes I think I can take it one step further to have grace for the whole process.
I am meant to be where I am and I will keep moving. In baby steps. Through valleys. In treacherous waters. And when I can’t breath or lose my footing, I have all these amazing people to help.
I can keep going.
I am exhausted, this feels relentlessly never-ending.
But I am choosing change.