Tuesday, January 22, 2013
Today has been very emotional for me. After taking Taylor to school, I headed to my therapy appointment. I wasn't feeling it today. I didn't want to go. Didn't want to sit there. Didn't want to talk. I simply didn't. It's not her, but yet is was. You see, she knows be better than I know myself most days. She sees beyond the outward one-word answers that I gave her for 20 minutes this morning. She begins to just talk. Tell me what she sees. Cue the tears to flow down my face. She's right. Everything she said is right. And it's difficult to see. Hard to accept. Not sure that I even want to. But in the end, she's right. And she usually is. I've been seeing her for seven years and can't recall a time when she hasn't been right. (Don't tell her.) I left her office not sure. Uncertain. Confused. But from her words of wisdom came a source of encouragement to do the next thing I needed to do today. I went running. Only 2 miles. But I went. I put my ipod on shuffle and the third song in was Anthony Evans' Fighting For Me. Right there on that walking track in the middle of the morning, I had a moment. A moment of tears and pressing on. I questioned God. Begged for some answers. Asked Him what about me was worth fighting for. Was I really worth the effort? And my questions continued around the track. Putting the track on repeat, I let the words of that song settle deep into my soul. Deep to where my heart hurts the most. Deep into the darkest places of my life. Did I get answers this morning. Honestly no. I didn't. But I also didn't give up in my run. I wanted to get into my truck and just leave. I finished my run. However, I'm holding on to the promise that God is fighting for me.