It’s not how I feel. The crafts, the glitter, the elegance. I feel like a fraud. I’m quiet and shy. I’ve been out of my comfort zone for a year, doing things that don’t come natural to me. I want to serve. I want to bless others. I want to be a vessel of healing and wisdom sharing and encouragement. But I feel spent. Empty. Tired. My engine won’t start. My brain feels fried. I don’t feel that a day or a weekend of rest is enough. 

I was singing carols with these women. And I felt ashamed that for the first time in my life Christmas has arrived, and I have not thought about Jesus, and I did not prepare my mind or my heart for him. I’ve been too busy doing. Doing. Worrying. Doing some more. I was not meant to carry this much mental load, a heavy burden of life and plans and groups of people and events. 

I feel ashamed of my stubborn pride to earn and do. It got me in trouble. I resent most activities and I don’t do them with joy. And a joyous heart is paramount to a healthy life. 

Oh, this is a season of telling God I’m willing to follow him. Serve him. But I need to hear him call me. I want to do his work not mine. 

I’m Afraid I derailed a while ago and said yes to all the invitations but somewhere on the way I lost sight of God. How strange to think I serve him (in all these projects I volunteer my time and energy in) and realize I have lost Jesus or myself a long time ago. Because I lost my strength and energy and motivation and joy. 

I pray 2023 will be a year if wisdom and discernment. To pursue god and clearly see the path he calls me on. May I rest in him more, may I rediscover joy in the work I do.