Conversation with the Devil

This blog may need to change its name to 100 Years 60 pounds, because yes, it is nearly taking me that  long.  I am sure there are many that read this and think,  "Just get it together already."   And my response is,  I know what you mean.

This morning I went running with my husband.  Okay in my mind, and according to my own expectations, that is what I wanted to do.   The reality on the other hand looked more like,  panic attack leg cramps, and walking.  It wasn't pretty, it was frustrating.  My mind had this beautiful vision of running, and my body laughingly showed me otherwise.  So I took to having a conversation with the devil inside.

I know have a written about my lovely wall that I hit.  I think that I may have hung more pictures and got to comfortable at looking at it.  When all of a sudden the wall comes tumbling down.  I see the other side and it is beautiful, bright and hopeful. And I am suddenly struck with fear.   For years I have been waiting in hope looking for someone to rescue me.  Waiting for someone to pull me out, or shine the light on the path.  And for some of that time I was devastated because no one ever answered the call.
Last night I finally realized that I was the one holding myself there on that side of the wall.  I wasn't answering my own call,  I wasn't listening.

So today I finally had a conversation.  It started out with anger, anger that my body wasn't doing what I wanted it to.  Anger that something so simple was so frustratingly difficult.   So as I was walking, my husband patiently letting me battle it out on my own, I forgave myself.   "I forgive you,  it can only get better."   Then the conversation started,  "Yes my body hurts, but you, devil, don't have one, and this pain is beautiful, something you will never understand.   I am finished feeling miserable, sorry, and frustrated.  I am finished with you holding me down.  I am breaking the chains, you lose."

And then the greatest tender mercy came along.  My friend, someone who I look up to.  Someone who I know understands exactly what I am dealing with, walks by.  And of course the tears start coming.  It was as if the Lord needed me to know that what I was doing right there in that moment was right.  And to keep moving.  As we are walking the sidewalk has words printed on it, jog.   It would be a beautiful story to say I did jog.  I kept walking, my shins were numb.   IT CAN ONLY GET BETTER! I still accomplished my goal which was to workout with my husband.

As we finished I realized that I hold the key, I hold the freedom.  And the wondering and asking why needed to stop.  It doesn't matter now.  My efforts were not spectacular.  My efforts nonetheless  were enough.  They were accepted by the Lord.  The devil will never cease to pull us down,  our efforts to him will never be enough.  But with the Lord, whatever we give, it will always be enough.  We were enough all along.  I am enough.