It comes in stages...

If you are reading this for insight or wisdom, I'm probably not your girl. I've gotten to a point where writing in this space is therapy, confession, a way to remember and learn from my mistakes. It's a written version of those homemade growth charts. Like sharpie marks on a door frame, I can come back to this space and go, "Wow. I've grown. Look what the Lord has done OR holy cow, every year around this time I'm acting like a chicken with my head cut off.

I'm at the chicken-with-my-head-cut-off stage right now. I know this is a common phrase that people use to describe busy life, but really, it's not the busyness that I'm trying to get at but the idea that my body is in one place and my mind is in another entirely. I find myself driving somewhere thinking so hard about something else that I end up at the wrong place. I make myself lunch/to-go coffee and leave it on the counter. I have a treasure trove of other people's things in my car right now with the full intention of returning them, but when I finally see the person, I totally forget to get that book/sweater/movie/etc. out of my car and hand it over. Not to mention, I have lost both my car keys and my sunglasses this week. Are you getting the picture? 

Chicken-with-my-head-cut-off-edness:

• STAGE ONE - The interesting thing about this version of myself is that at stage one I try to play it cool. I try to pretend I'm that super laid back chick where I'm kind of a hot mess and I'm proud of it. Laura enters, "Hi friends, I'mm hereee (sing-songy)! And I'm a mess and it's hilarious! LOVE ME ANYWAYS. Yesterday, I wore my dress backwards to work accidentally, and it looked awesome. YALL, I actually walked into the boys' bathroom without thinking today. That happened."

• STAGE TWO - Then, I slowly move from "this is hilarious and awesome" to total self-loathing. I find myself giving that "get your sh*t together" talk in the mirror every five minutes, and then most of my actual conversations with other people consist of apologies. "I'm sorry I'm late... I'm so sorry I forgot...I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry"

• STAGE THREE - Then comes the darkest of darks, where I feel like a total failure, cry, and bake cookies. I don't actually want to eat them, I just know when I mix sugars and add flour, I can make things come out okay. A last hope for control. 

Chicken-with-my-head-cut-off-edness. Doesn't it sound a lot like a dumb sheep without a shepherd? A human trying to play God? I was brought to my knees in the quiet of the morning when I experienced the most beautiful, foggy sunrise. It was an awakening; a reminder that there IS a God who has a plan and doesn't need me, that I don't have to be the perfect one, that I am not loved for keeping it all together. It made me feel so small and yet so comforted to know that the day is new and the sun keeps on shining whether I do my job or not. I know all these things, but in my chicken-with-my-head-cut-off-edness and pride I don't live like I know them. 

I don't know who you are reading this, and you probably never put on your clothes backwards, but from a girl who often tries to control everything - rest in the knowledge that you don't have to be anyone's savior today, tomorrow, or ever.

PS - If this post had a soundtrack, it would probably be the chorus of this song.