Let It Go

DSCN0259

It isn’t the mountain ahead that wears you out; it’s the grain of sand in your shoe. ~ Robert W. Service

Have you ever had a pebble in your shoe but didn’t want to take the time to stop what you were doing and take it out? Instead, you just kept shaking it from under your foot, only that darned pebble kept making its way back. Has that happened to you or am I the only one?

This can also happen in your soul. That irritating grain of sand, that bothersome pebble, could be anything. Maybe it is an offense, an unmet expectation, or it could be fear or worry. All of these rob our peace and set the course of our day which affects our relationships, our communication, and our dreams. And even so, we cannot seem to let it go.

I have several grains of sand in my shoe at the moment. So how do I let it go? For me, I remind myself of all the things I have to be grateful. I remind myself to tell myself the truth. What is true for this moment? For really, isn’t that all we can count on? The moment we are in?

If I am to climb the mountain, then I must deal with the sand. How about you? Do you have something you need to let go of and if so, how do you let go?

Advertisements

SQUALLS & STORMS

imgres.jpg

It takes a real storm in the average person’s life to make him realize how much worrying he has done over the squalls. ~ Bruce Barton

When my children were small I used to harp on them about picking their things up, make their beds, do this, do that. And so I should have because it taught them responsibility. But what shouldn’t have happened is where my feelings of frustration took me. After a hard day, something as simple as tripping over a pair of ragged athletic shoes would make me want to yell.

However, Christmas Day, 1997, the owner of those shoes, my son William, was flown to Arkansas Children’s Hospital. He suffered a brain empyema caused from a sinus infection where the pressure had pushed the infection past the blood/brain barrier. He was only thirteen at the time. The doctors said he had a 50/50 chance of survival.

While he was in surgery I thought about those shoes and how I would gladly trip over them every day if only William would survive. Thankfully he did.

Squalls and storms. I learned the difference that day. Not to say I haven’t fretted over a squall since then, but it only takes this memory to help me adjust my attitude.