The Time I Got Blown Over By Grace

Y'all, I am not one of those women who goes to church regularly. My grandaddy Jack was the most inspiring minister I have ever heard, and quite honestly, I can't find someone who can really get the message across better than he could. So although I occasionally attend, I usually find myself talking to Grandaddy when my heart needs to feel God.

This morning, I was overwhelmed. I don't really know why, except that I know it is related to my feeling alone. Probably 4/5 people who know me would, if asked to come up with a few words to describe me, probably use the word "independent." My mother said I turned 30 on my 3rd birthday. She's probably right.

I made a decision to end a relationship a couple weeks ago; while it was the right one, it didn't keep it from hurting. I hate hurting other people, and I certainly hate knowing I made a mistake. I am also very much a person who, deep down, needs other people. And I love to cuddle. This makes being single a very tricky business.

I fill up my days with schedules - I wake up at the same time every day, I go to work, I go work out, then I go home and love on my critters, and maybe go out with friends. I go to bed around the same time every night. Lather. Rinse. Repeat. I am not one of those folks who laments "never enough time for yada yada;" I have plenty of time.

I don't lament a lack of people in my life; I am blessed by many wonderful friends.

I don't lament a poor family life/upbringing; I have been surrounded by family since my first breath whom I love upside down and inside out and who love me.

I don't lament my job; I know I am blessed beyond measure to work for a great company, especially with the unemployment rate in Georgia still hovering around 9%.

I lament a simple thing; a partner. This is hard for people like me to admit - I want to be fine. I want to be great on my own. And I know I am. It's just something my heart longs for. But I know it's not up to me. Timing is God's, and His alone. And it isn't time.

There is much work to be done.

For some reason, Grandaddy came to talk to me this morning. He whispered in my ear something he would always say to me when I was little and moving way too fast, near about ready to hurt myself or break something - "Slow down, Slopjar!"

Slow down, because you're missing it.

Slow down, because this is important.

Slow down, because you have exactly what you need right now.

Slow down, because "the LORD will fight for you; you need only to be still."

I got annoyed this morning with another driver - he/she (I never looked) was riding my bumper, swerving lanes, riding other folks' bumpers, just in a big ol' hurry. And I found myself muttering, "slow down, crazy." And here I am, not 3 hours later, needing to be told the same exact thing.

Moreover, there are only about 5 or so songs that can make me cry. Two of them played on my Pandora in the last 30 minutes; I wept silently at my desk. Someone's trying to tell me something...