Boy, I've been busy since my last post.  I worked 6 days in a row, went to parents' the next day for Easter, spent the night there, came back home the day after that, and went back to work the next three days.  Now.  I'm aware that many people work multiple jobs.  That they have a gaggle of children to take care of when they come home each night.  I am not saying that I'm the busiest person in the world.  But I am saying I have been plumb tuckered.  Yet I was still able to make it work most days on time.  Early, even.  Having worked night shift for over a decade, being anywhere showered, dressed, and ready to go in the morning on time is a huge feat for me.  Hospital work is long and hard, emotional and physically draining. And my body was able to do that.  I fall into the trap sometimes that everything would be better/easier/any other "better" adjective if I was thinner.  And while I want to be healthy, the basis of that belief is not true.  I can type that easily. My mind knows that.  But oh, sometimes that's so difficult for my heart to comprehend.
     That's the majority of what this blog is about.  For me to look back on in the moments when I'm panicked and stressed out about everything and remind myself of what I CAN do.  I don't really adopt words for the year, but this year I want to focus on finding the joy in things.  It's always there.  I mean, it may be that you only broke one leg not two, but the silver lining is there.  I advise my friends of this often, but need to work harder on believing it for myself.
     Just before I headed to this coffee shop (where I ordered and paid for the special only to be told that they were out-- bummer!) I worked with Nikki, my personal trainer.  I did a lot of cray things for an hour.  I squatted, planked, arm dipped, battle roped, and more.  It wore me out.  I stopped a few times to catch my breath, but I fucking did it.  I didn't let the fear of failing or of looking fat and stupid get in the way of it.  I did it.
     I was created for more than being panicky about my appearance and my single status.  Jesus didn't go to the cross for me to think I was unworthy.  (ASIDE: I know what you're thinking.  I just dropped the f bomb (sorry mom) and in the next paragraph I'm talking about Jesus.  Yup.  That's me.  I'm an enigma wrapped in a mystery.  That phrase "I love Jesus but I cuss a little" defines me perfectly.  I don't have the mouth of a sailor but sometimes a well played curse word makes things better.  It just does.)  I've always had a personal relationship with Jesus and am trying to grow in that.  A big portion of it reminds me that I'm not a second class citizen.  I'm not made to be a part of this fallen world, but I'm a co heir with Christ.  Y'all.  A co heir.  WITH JESUS.  That's as mind blowing to me now as it was the first time I realized it.
     Because of this belief and the knowledge I'm saved by grace and free from sin and shame, I am learning to look for the joy.   Even in this body of mine, which honestly I avoid looking at all costs.  I don't own a full length mirror.  I put on my robe before I open the shower curtain.  I dislike what I see and I always have.  But the joy is that I was created in God's image.  And I'm striving each minute to realize that truth alone is enough to make me beautiful.  The God given qualities I have are more important than any cellulite or too tight pants in my closet.  Because I'm fabulous.  Not on my own.  But because of Jesus.
    That's what His body can do.