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I just had a wonderful weekend. I attended a conference with a fun theme based on music from the 60’s and 70’s. I got to know some friends better and I made some new friends. I hung out with people of like mind and we shared our stories. I sang, I laughed, and I cried. I gained new insights. At least 50 of us danced together on Saturday night without a drop of alcohol in our bloodstreams. I left feeling peaceful, joyful, and contented.
Today, I’m back into my daily routine and I’m beat. I feel like a cold wants to get me. The old me would have pushed myself to stay up and write until I felt I had something perfect. Now I’m learning to trust that there’s a difference between my idea of perfect and God’s idea of perfect. God’s idea of perfect is much gentler than mine and appears to be “flawed” in my estimation, but perhaps God knows more than me.
I get the feeling that God wants me to be gentle with myself and go to bed. It’s scary to let go of my will and write a short post, but I’m going to trust that it’ll all be just fine.
I’m beginning to learn that trusting God brings me peace. Maybe someday I’ll trust God so much that I’ll be overflowing with peace. I like that idea. How about you? Peace baby…