My Letter To Life

Dear Life,

You are a mixed bag aren’t you? You are an inevitable juxtaposition between joys and pains, trials and tribulations, success’ and failures. I’ve come to learn in this little life of mine that I have fewer answers than questions. But what I do know is that we all struggle, at times, with things great and small. And what I firmly believe is that we have the fortitude to face and to come through courageously whatever you throw at us. Experiences can be so very hard no matter what geographic region you live in or the privilege that you bear. This life is everything I ever hoped for and all I wish I could escape from at times. Parenting is no joke… Emotional GPS navigational system for this area please. Marriage is not for the faint of heart…. I’d genuinely appreciate a manual for this one as well. Maintaining our own personal self-worth is a feat all its own… Feel free to distribute the “I feel great” pills for this one anytime now! What’s that? No GPS or manual or swath of feel good pills? Awesome. So the blind leads the blind I’m gathering.

I am a middle-aged mother of four children. The precious bundle of children you’ve given me wrap my heart like a hug and make me want to bash my head in at times. I am a wife of one. I’m fifteen and a half years into this institution of marriage and it just will not quit evolving like a ferris wheel ride that never ends. I am an overcomer of many, many things and a striver of perfection. The latter has been my Achilles heel. The former my crowning glory.

I’ve lived on a steady diet of self-deprecation as if I was addicted to the act of comparing myself to the next guy. I was so given to the comparison of others that I nursed a 25 year Eating Disorder to hone others’ perception of me. It’s as if my ED was my roommate that never cleaned and never left the apartment. It has gotten to the point where it just stinks and takes up valuable space and I am SO OVER IT MAN. I took the bait of an ED that nearly ravished me. This bait is no worm on a hook. It’s a tub of piranhas and you get your ass pushed in the tub by this thing. I have absolutely hated this experience, but I am softened to the weight of a cloud as I realize that God came for me. He lifted me out of this horrendous tub of pure death. I still have many things to learn, but I’m choosing to wave my hands wildly in the air admitting my struggle. I’m choosing to heal out loud.

Life, you are beautiful and unique and whole. I have a history of fantastic experiences that remind me of that everyday. To be honest though, most often I feel like a toddler wearing her moms high heels or like I’m wearing clown makeup at the White House.

My wholehearted prayer is that I would stay awake to your greatness. I would hear the call to enjoy what I have, hold loosely what I don’t have, and harness the contentment of the now and not yet. I want to see my neighbor. I want to raise my children as kind human beings full of purpose. I want to notice the hurting, see the real beauty this planet displays, and possibly mend a wound with my words. I want to eat the cake and savor it.

We have the power to change the course of our lives. The magic lies right inside of our will. You’ve taught me so far that if we enact our will and get inside the ring to fight for ourselves mountains move. And when they move the view is breathtaking.

We truly are all running a marathon here.

Life, I’ll meet you at the starting line. Again.





5 thoughts on “My Letter To Life

  1. Love that you are doing this, and sharing the talent God has given you to express ideas so powerfully. Thank you for blessing our lives with your gifts.

    Liked by 1 person

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