Several weeks ago, I broke my wrist bone....first broken bone ever. Since that time, and even since I got the cast off a couple of weeks ago, I have learned so much I should already know about slowing down. As I get older, in general, I can't run through the airport at breakneck speed to catch a connecting flight like I used to. Having the knowledge of that and having the ability to not try to do it anyway are two vastly different things. Couple the age factor, though, with the broken arm, and I am slowly learning to slow down...and ask for help when needed.
Dave will likely be the first one to tell you that I do not ask for help, readily. For years, we have watched that video showing the little girl who does not want help putting on her seatbelt. Wowee, she reminds me of myself. But the fact of the matter is: we all need help sometimes. Lifting my bag into the overhead bin on the airplane would be next to impossible without the use of my right hand and arm, but it is such a simple gift for someone to simply put it up there for me, especially when they happen to be 6 inches (or more) taller than me (not a hard feat, as many of you know). I just have to remind myself that it might take me an extra minute (or 5) to get settled or to board a flight in the first place. And don't get me started on trying to get all the training materials I need (plus the obligatory and oh-so-critical diet coke) out of the car each morning I am traveling for work. What horrendous thing might happen if I had to take two trips into the school? But nooooooo....... I catch myself trying to be a packmule and then spilling diet coke on the front of my dress (while the front office secretary tries to convince me you "really can't see it that much"). Ugggghhhh.....
Sometimes, though, God simply tells me in no uncertain terms that I will (no maybe about it) slow down. For me, that mandate typically comes in the form of some type of COVID or other virus/flu. That happened last week. I had gotten home from one state and was going to travel to Houston two days later to train, and I got knocked on my behind by fever, chills, fatigue, cough, and other "not-necessary-to-mention-in-this-blog-but-suffice-it-to-say-they-weren't-great" symptoms. Dave took me to Urgent Care where the doctor told me he was going to write me a "get-out-of-work" note. Dave laughed, and said, "She doesn't have anyone that is going to need that....except HER!" The doctor told me to get some rest, and I'll be honest----I really didn't have a choice----rest was literally all I could do. I did end up (with Dave accompanying me, by the grace of God) being able to travel up to Wyoming for a few days of training, while also getting a chance to drive around and walk in some pretty areas of the mountains and forests. God definitely has a sense of humor, especially when I try to do things in my own time (see above "breakneck speed"). Sometimes, time has a way of simply slowing down FOR me and even allowing me to write a short blog since I have been remiss in doing so for a few weeks.
What are the benefits of slowing down?
For me, they include:
*remembering to pray
*remembering what's important
How about you?
Hurry up (just kidding) and comment on my post to let me know your best "slow down" story and/or advice.