I'm...so... out of shape.

Referring back to a previous post regarding my desire to write, run, and pray more consistently, I am painfully aware of my failure. I'm a slug.

I haven't worked out since October. The miscarriage sent me into a physical slump of laziness. I just didn't have it in me to work out. Then the holidays happened, and chips and queso took over. Ugh.

I haven't written since November. Again, the holidays. But it's almost March. I need to declare an end to my own personal writer's strike now, please. Thank you.

I have been a prayer slug, too... although certain life circumstances of late have caused me to look up a little more often. I am having to walk by faith and not by sight these days, and that is good. Fear creeps in through the tiny cracks of my thinly-paned heart, and I have to constantly bring it back to God. "Do I trust You?....yes. I will trust You."

Changes are afoot. I have to come to hate where I am before I can move forward.

This afternoon, as I was sitting in my room on my laptop, I heard a loud crash in our walk-in closet. I ignored it, too lazy to get up at the time. An hour or so later, I went into the closet to find that the entire shelving unit had come loose from the wall and fell to the floor, dumping our entire wardrobe and rendering the shelf no longer useable. It's going to be an annoyingly large task to fix the mess, and it's going to require new shelves (actually, a total closet makeover, most likely).

The upside of it is that our closet has been disorganized for a long time. This closet disaster is really just what I needed to get off my duff and make a change.

I guess getting fat, forgetting how to write, and getting depressed for lack of prayer are the agents of change I needed as well.

Wish me luck.

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