The one thing I hope is clear as I write and (maybe?) you read is that I haven’t figured everything out. Hopefully the most recent post made that abundantly clear. I still have days where I want to curl up and just have it all go away. I have days where I look heavenward, despairing, lacking all comprehension, and wondering why Father does not take my part.
But those aren’t most days. Most days I do quite well. I’ve established things that give me wins every day to help me build momentum. As I’ve improved, I’ve added more things to my routine to help me balance myself and be more productive.
That’s helped a lot. It’s helped to have people to whom I’m accountable and it’s helped to share my struggles with people I trust.
But I’m a work in progress. I’m relentlessly (and perhaps a little too) self-analytical. Sometimes I stumble on things in my mental inventories I wasn’t aware of before or didn’t want to admit to myself.
Often those times knock me flat on my butt (see last post). Then I have to rely on people around me more, on Father (even though I may be bitter about some stuff), and trust the process of growth and change-making.
Change and improvement are hard. Whenever I think about WIP, I think of the accounting class where we discussed WIP inventory. The example was of taking steel and developing it in several stages into the final product.
Sometimes the steel had to be melted, cut, bent, shortened, lengthened, added to, or otherwise changed. If steel had nerve cells, it would be extremely painful. Similarly, when I consider myself as a work in progress, I have to be willing to go through the changes and pains–achy or intense–that are part of the process.
There will be times that I bend, creak, refuse, break, super-heat, melt, or just need to sit on the shelf for a while. None of these may be fun or enjoyable in any way. But I’m a work in progress, and I may be gaining a bit more shape of my final product, but I shouldn’t expect finality any time soon.