He looked at me and with a steady voice asked, “Mrs. Jones, how do you feel about your husband doing this heart work and taking a deeper dive on his story?”
Have you ever walked into a room and have it take you back to another point in time? Sometimes I feel that when I sit in the stands watching my daughter sideline cheer at the Friday football games.
Did you know that I once bought a $75 lunch box for my five-year-old daughter? She is twelve now, and I have some perspective. But in the moment of wanting to do the right things and be the right mom I let Pinterest, the mommy bloggers and her fellow five year old friends make me believe to truly thrive in Kindergarten this box was required.
This past Sunday I went on a walk before church. As I hiked the wooden steps built into the side of the canyon by my house I began to consider, “Why would I even be out early in the sunny heat of August, hours before headed out to church on the weekend?”
I used to run for distance. I stopped. I suppose I quit. But I most certainly didn’t give up.
Running served it’s purpose—a life-giving one, in fact. It kept me sane during the first eighteen months of my fourth child’s life.
I almost missed it. I had spent all of my adult life at the onset of twenty years old pursuing what I believed was the “highest calling.”
After 17 days across the waters to Italy and Greece, someone asked me what I learned on my trip? What is it that I hope to take home from my travels?
Last night at dinner I had a conversation with a good friend about loving and leading people. “It just requires tough skin and a soft heart,” I said. She replied with this great quote from Breñe Brown. “Strong back, soft front, wild heart.”
“A wife, a mom, a friend, a daughter, a leader, a writer, a speaker, a CEO, Jen share with the audience how you do you do it all?”
“It’s not you, it’s me.” A line often said at the point of rejection. A line that actually had me feeling something might be wrong with me. I think it’s intent was the opposite.