My feet hurt. I think I sweated off about 25 pounds yesterday from working in the yard so, am I done yet? Are we there yet? Are we there yet? Are we there yet?
I've always teased and said, "I asked God for patience, so He gave me Kyle". And, boy, did I get a crash course. Patience is something I've always aspired to. It seems simple enough. I mean, really, how hard is it anyway? You allow someone to go on and on about some idiotic thing while you smile and nod. You sit in the waiting room for 2 hours and read a magazine. You get behind a slow poke from hell on the highway and enjoy your extra time to listen to the radio. You walk 5000 miles and loose 2 pounds but are thankful for the extra energy and the fact that you can still walk. You calmly take the puppy outside after the hundredth accident and remember that she is just a baby. It all sounds simple, easy enough.
The fact is, I have learned quite a bit of patience over the years. I married a man who takes his sweet time doing whatever it is he finds to do. Don't get me wrong, there have been times when I've wanted to hit him with a cattle prod but I always remember how kind he has been to put up with me all these years. I was given a son who taught me more about patience than I ever dreamed possible. (The cattle prod thing would have come in handy in this situation as well.) So, I take what I've learned and implicitly attempt to apply the lessons wisely. However, when it comes to patience with myself, I am still a work in progress.
I read something recently that I loved loved loved.
Have patience with all things, but chiefly have patience with yourself. Do not lose courage in considering your own imperfections but instantly set about to remedying them - every day begin the task anew. ~Saint Francis de Sales
It put me in mind of one of my favorite scriptures.
The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases, His mercies never come to an end: they are new every morning. Great is thy faithfulness. "The Lord is my portion" says my soul, "therefore I will hope in him."
Every morning. Those words are so refreshing to my soul. Every day when I wake up, I've got a fresh new start. I must be patient with myself when it comes to my own imperfections. One thing I know for sure is that my journey will be life-long. I can't get out my bible, read through it once and be done with that...check that off the list, I'm done! Chances are, I'm not going to be able to walk my three miles a few times and be in perfect physical shape and count that thing done. Lord knows I can't do the laundry or the dishes once and be done with that little chore. Every moment counts. Every mile walked, every scripture pondered over, every meditative moment with God, every tiny decision throughout the day. It is a daily walk but will go on unendingly.
That is one of the reasons I gave myself until my birthday to get to my goal weight. It is 7 months away which means I must loose 4.5 pounds a month. All the research shows that this is the best way to loose weight anyway. It is a marathon, not a sprint. Sprinting is exactly what I feel I've been doing. It all comes back to being patient. If I kill myself the in the first two weeks, the chances are much greater that I will fail. Failure is not an option. So, today, I will work on laundry, dishes, carpets, dusting, cooking, and enjoy every moment of it. Tomorrow will be my first weigh-in day since the initial weigh-in. If I've lost one pound, I'll be happy. If I've lost nothing, I will have another grand opportunity to practice patience and keep right on going. But, am I done yet?