This week's been hazy. It wasn't of my own doing, prevention was out of my hands. My body physically would not let me fully concentrate; I was only capable of going through the motions, knowing I was talking or writing or listening, but not completely aware, not doing those things well.
I awoke this morning, my head clear and my body in sync again, thankful to be here, in this moment, no matter the contents. Then Jesus reminded me of one time this summer when I had a thought and wrote it down:
Things happen when we pay attention. And things happen when our words translate into actions. If we aren't doing those things, then what are we doing?
Maybe not the most eloquent words ever said, but they're as clear as it gets, and they make a point of shaking souls, waking them from slumber. They woke up mine.
The day I wrote those words, June fifteenth, is the day I decided to start living them. Falters, blunders, errors-- they've been relentless. But it wasn't until I lost the ability to pay attention, that I craved to do so. It wasn't until I lost sight of my life echoing well-meaning words, that I desperately wanted to see again.
I know all the tricks of the trade when it comes to taking for granted; it's time I learned a thing or two about long-term thankfulness, about seeing the light day after day, never being convinced it's grown dim.
Today, I'm about paying attention. I'm also about my words becoming actions. Here's to continuing the journey-- steep cliffs, warm grass, handholds and all.