“Do the next thing,” was the advice of Elisabeth Elliot, a heroine among my favorite Christian authors and speakers. I had the pleasure of meeting and speaking with her several times as a young adult because she spoke often at churches in our common home state of Massachusetts. This simple piece of advice has encouraged me many times over because of my propensity for becoming overwhelmed by my circumstances and the “to do” lists I’ve had before me at times. A good friend of mine shared this phrase with me during my freshman year of college when I first became a believer, and it has helped me place my trust in our Living God as I walk through life just one step at a time.
At this time in my life, Elliot’s advice is no less significant, especially when I have three-year-old and one-year-old daughters in my constant care while Daddy is either at the office or traveling on business. This past week was no exception, as he was out of state from early last Friday morning until late Tuesday night. As I shared in my last blog post, our three-year-old, Eden, proved quite the handful during that time, drawing on my patience to the last drop, while my one-year-old, Elianna, army-crawled her way through nearly ten-tooth teething and separation anxiety and the ever-challenging endeavor to be independently mobile. So yes, we ladies certainly do “play” while Daddy is away, but there are plenty of other tasks to occupy Mommy, leaving the babes to play often on their own. All the while, I must stay focused on “doing the next thing” in order to be sure the essential tasks are addressed appropriately.
This past week also took a stressful toll on my body, reminding me of its limitations and the long road of recovery that still lay ahead. When Wednesday at last arrived, so too did a stranger headache and stomachache right at bedtime, keeping me awake most of that night. The drain and pain dogged me all day Thursday as well, propelling my headache into a migraine. I asked Alex to come home from work early, which he did, thankfully, and attended the girls the remainder of the day so I could quietly rest upstairs. Having not accomplished any task outside of essentials up to that point, I hoped to read or write or do something while I rested, but resting was to be the only outcome.
Friday morning swiftly awoke with a not-so-casual hope of the weekend but also the threat of looming to-do’s in the air. And so it all began like most mornings, our breakfast devotional reading aloud from Sarah Young’s Jesus Calling, but this time forged by my spirit’s determination, as found in Isaiah 50:7: “The Lord God will help me; therefore, shall I not be confounded. Therefore, have I set my face like a flint and I know that I shall not be ashamed.”
His promises in mind, I did my “next thing”: get all us girls going to our local YMCA, where I met with a personal trainer for the first time to begin the transition from physical therapy to running and weight training on my own. We discussed my short and long term goals; I shared with her the origin of my “70 in 7” Project and all its particulars, along with the progress I have made so far. We reviewed her recommendations and instructions in detail. Then, finally, I began my workout. And the surge of adrenaline shocked me into a smile so resplendent, resounding and remarkable, that I felt my spirit say:
Don’t dream big! Dream bigger!!
To be continued…
The Art of Choosing True Life 