I'm Ok With Eight Out Of Twelve

Back in October I wrote a post called Story Bricks about how God had put it on my heart to start writing again and committed to posting once a week from then until the end of the year. Well, I just tallied eight posts in twelve weeks. Math isn't my strong suit, but that's not quite once a week. A few years ago, that would have really bothered me. I would have beaten myself up mentally for not making my goal and then probably quit writing because I was frustrated with not keeping up. However, the past few years have been quite the journey in grace for my go-get-'em perfectionist side.

You see, when you're put flat on your back (literally) with a severe injury, you receive a crash course in grace whether you want it or not. All of the sudden there are things you simply cannot do...and there are even more things that you should not do because the long term consequences greatly outweigh the any short term gain. And thus, you learn to say "I can't." I know...it's much cooler to say that "can't" isn't in my vocabulary, but bear with me here as I explain the way I've learned to think about "can't."

1. It's ok to say "I can't" when there's something greater at risk. For me this started with having to say to myself "I can't do ____________ without risking my ability to walk the rest of my life." Walking is pretty important to me, so that helped keep things in perspective. I've since learned to carry this thought process into other situations such as "I can't help with this wonderful ministry that needs help without risking ___________________ (blank being something important I know deserves priority)." This is important because if I don't prioritize I risk burnout.
2. Sometimes "I can't" is really "I can't yet." Recovery can be an excruciatingly slow process, but if you try to rush it, you can end up frustrated or - worse - re-injured. Growing in life is often the same way. It takes a slow, steady plodding and a recognition that you're just human after all (and you wouldn't look good in spandex anyway). You have to give yourself the grace to grow.
3. Having to admit that "I can't" opens the door for me to receive grace from others. I've always loved helping others but have been a bit resistant to receiving help. However, after being forced into requiring it, I've learned that there is something deeply touching when people truly help you. Often this means having to explain why you can't (as much as the situation warrants, anyhow) so that people understand what is going on.
   But I have been pleasantly surprised by how willing people are to both understand and help. From my college roommate who was willing to help me with things like getting boxes off shelves to my current roommate who is re-learning to cook with me after I discovered that I am gluten intolerant (even though she is not) and many people in between, I have discovered the quiet yet surprisingly rich blessing that comes in letting others journey with you though helping. 

In these ways I have put "can't" back in to my vocabulary and truly believe that I am better off for it. And so, I'm able to say that I'm ok with eight out of twelve. I managed to keep my priorities fairly straight during those twelve weeks. Also, I have learned a lot about my writing process, including the fact that my ideas have to "stew" for a while. I'd still like to get to where I'm posting once a week, but I'm not there yet. Thus, I will keep writing with that goal in mind and humbly ask for the help of anyone out there reading this to encourage me to keep going (comments are a great way to do that, btw).  Journey on!