I feel an excitement in the air.

Fall is coming, and I can't wait to see what is coming with it.  


   I've been reading lately on some other blogs how fall is sort of a new year.  In some ways, it almost feels like a fresher start than New Year's Eve.  For one thing, the season and weather is shifting in a fresh, cool crisp and exciting way, not just dragging on like it does in the doldrums of winter.  And who doesn't love fall fashion, decor, parties, events, and so on and so forth?  The dawning of the holidays?  O.k. obviously I don't need to go on.

   And when I read that, the light came on.  It was as if I've always felt that, but have never put those feelings to words before, and my heart just whispered, "ME TOO."  Don't get me wrong, I'm a summer child and I will always love it intensely and sort of hate to see it go, but the coming of fall is a fickle little thing.  It is excitement tinged with sadness, anticipation mingled with reluctantcy, and a bunch of other things.  Much like the feeling of heading back to school.  So maybe that's why fall feels that way in the first place.  It was programmed into us with all of those school preparations.  Who knows.

   Whatever the case, I feel a fresh change coming.  I don't know if it will play out in anything else in my life other than my own mind, but hopefully it does.  Hopefully it spills over into my blog, my friendships, my church, my home, my children, my marriage.  (Those were not listed in order of importance, people)  I so hope it spills over into everything I do, but even if it doesn't, it will be enough.  Because a change of my way of thinking, a renewing of my mind....that's all I really want right now.

   I could go into juicy detail that would probably simultaneously intrigue you and horrify you.  You wouldn't know whether to pity me, jump up and shout, "I UNDERSTAND!" or pretend you don't know me.  But of course I won't go there.  There are places that even I, The One Who Talks to Much and Listens Too Little, will not go on this blog.  It's just too real, too vulnerable, too honest, and the only people I completely trust enough to go there with are Randy and God.  And maybe that's just the way it's supposed to be. 

It's a beautiful thing, really.

To come to this ultimate realization that I am flawed and it's OK.  

That I am imperfect, and always will be, but I am perfect in Christ. 

That I am no one in myself, but I am someone in Him.

That I can do nothing on my own, but all things in Christ.

That I will fail in my own strength, but in His, all things are possible.

    And why do we fight it?  Why do we compare and covet and compete and grasp and strive and search and long for?  What's the point?  So we can spend most of our lives feeling like we're not enough, and then wear that around like some sort of sick badge of honor?  Like, "Oooo, look at me, I'm a victim here.  I suffer, therefore I am more holy.  I hate myself, therefore I am humble." 

We have it all wrong.

   Jesus says, "Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest."  He doesn't expect us to do it all on our own.  He doesn't WANT us to.  Why do we try?  Why do we look at Pinterest and other blogs, and friends and family and think, "Why can't I be that?  I'm not enough."  It's completely contrary to what He tells us to do. 

   So this fall, I'm starting fresh.  It might take some time, there might be some mud to slog through, but by George I'm doing it.  I am going to be renewing my mind if it kills me.  And the ironic thing is, it will probably do the complete opposite.

 It will probably bring life.