"The mind--no rest,
deserving none,"
He hisses lightly in my ear.
"Not enough.
Your work.
Your pain.
Never enough.
No rest.
Deserving none."
The doubt, now birthed and grown,
waltzes in my mind,
flirting with every beautiful thought
till she blushes and flees,
or else succombs to fornicating self-love
and sings most lustily
"Work harder
Work harder
Work harder
EARN."
The story of my week, this fight to keep from "earning." Love. A smile from the stranger. A pat on the back from myself. An e-mail from a friend. Acceptance from God. Grace. A laundry-list of can't-be-earned items. It even says that at the top of the list: "Can't be earned." But do I ever try.
Physically, that means: Steph goes to chiropractor. Chiropractor makes small talk and "fixes" Steph. Steph feels better. Steph goes back to working too hard. Steph feels not better. Steph goes to chiropractor. ad infinitum. A snail of a learner am I. But grace abounds for all. For me. For the one who would prostitute the gift by payment.
Grace led my roving feet
To tread the heavenly road;
And new supplies each hour I meet,
While pressing on to God.
Grace taught my soul to pray
And made mine eyes o’erflow;
’Twas grace which kept me to this day,
And will not let me go.