Summer naturally is a time when we all let go of any sense of routine that we might have and let things slide. Cooking, cleaning, academics, sports and so many other things aren’t quite so pressing. But as summer has come to an end, I’ve found myself and many of my friends declaring how desperate we all are to get into some sort of rhythm. We’ve been back in school for nearly a month now, and I find myself waking up every day wondering if this is going to be the day, the week, the month that we finally find some sense of routine?
It finally dawned on me that it’s not going to happen.
Rhythm is defined “as the movement or procedure with uniform or patterned recurrence of a beat, accent, or the like.” To be honest, most of the time my life sounds like the wonky beat of some strange jazz song. While there is a basic routine to our days: we wake up, eat breakfast, head off to school, come home etc etc, there is so much that happens within each of those moments that can throw off even the closest resemblance to a pattern.
And I realized this week, that in my striving for some sort of rhythm, I am the one creating the wonky beat.
As I try to move my family within this beat that I’m trying to set, I’m not allowing their beats to sound.
So, this week as Monday dawns and a new week approaches, I am not going to strive for a rhythm to our days; I am going to strive for balance. Like a metronome that sounds a repeated back and forth, consistent, dependable, available note.
But it’s not going to be me setting that note or me trying to create anything.
It’s going to be the constant balance of me relinquishing every moment to Him.
The consistent sound of me laying every second down before Him.
I’m going to strive for nothing more than resting in the comfort that
He is in control and He is going to hit that balance
back and forth, back and forth and never miss.
I’m going to pray that the rhythm,
the balance in my life is nothing more than His refrain.
by aimee, living a constant pursuit towards the One who knows me bestLeave a Comment