If you’ve ever been up close to a hot air balloon, you know that it takes a huge, noisy fan and a whole crew of people to start filling the envelope. By the time the flame turns on and the balloon starts to rise, there’s already been a big commitment of time and work.
But the motivational posters only show the balloons soaring, like dreams without the work. In reality, I sometimes feel caught in the first stage. The heavy task of unloading and unrolling the envelope. The switching on of the fan.
The lifting off can feel far off.
I’ve been in the basket. I’ve seen the deer and the fox from above. Heard conversations float to the sky and held tight to my husband’s hand when the ground got too far away. So, I know the lifting off does come. And I know it’s worth it. I just have to remind myself of that.
What are you working toward? Where do you find encouragement?
We all know that life is full of highs and lows, of gleeful rides to the top of the Ferris wheel followed by the slow and rocky descent to the ground. That’s where I found myself last week – in the slow and rocky part.
I was spent. I was tired from working outside the home and exhausted from dealing with family budgets and laundry and Legos. It seemed everyone, from my boss to the family Pomeranian needed something from me. Colt, who is usually a Daddy’s boy, cried every time I left the room. Benjamin begged me to play with his super hero guys, read a third story and make another treasure map. Jessie needed help with a Valentine’s Day card, and Brian and I were arguing over every little thing.
Everyone felt neglected, and no one was getting what he wanted.
“I can’t please anyone,” I half mumbled, half prayed. “I can’t make anyone happy. There’s just not enough of me.”
There is plenty of me, a quiet, loving voice told me. I am enough.
I hadn’t really been expecting guidance. I only wanted a listener, and even as I let those words hang there, in my heart I wanted to complain more, to argue and make my case that too much was being asked of me. But I couldn’t.
If I claim to believe in an all-powerful God, then don’t I have to believe he is all powerful?
It’s so simple, yet I need to be reminded to live that concept out – reminded to trust that, even on the slow and rocky parts, I’m not on the Ferris wheel alone.