Post-Easter Recovery

Every year I think my Easter recovery will be–must be–easier than the last year, which I think is like assuming the next marathon recovery will be better. Every year I’m wrong. Easter kicked my butt again. It’s a good tired, a satisfied-yet-relieved tired, a stay-in-my-pajamas-all-day tired. A tired that throws my limits in front of me, and I have no choice but to respect them, or I’ll end up crying in front of my computer screen while questioning why I ever started preaching.

Brene Brown calls them the gremlin voices–voices that tell us we’re failing at life, that we’re not where we planned to be, that we’re not doing enough. My gremlin voices have been murmuring in my ear all week, growling, “Why aren’t you putting in a full schedule this week? Your newsletter article is due. The fridge is empty. Naps are for lazy people like you.”

I know I’m not alone and I know the gremlin voices don’t like honesty or empathy. So for those of you feeling run over by life this week, here is how my week has gone:

My husband took my daughter to daycare every morning this week, even though it’s right down the street from my office and it’s out of his way. And each time they left, I was still in my pajamas. And yes, he’s awesome.

This week I’ve watched Dancing with the Stars, The Voice, and too many episodes of 19 Kids and Counting.

I have no idea what we’re going to have for dinner tonight, even though I’ve been working from home today.

I ran two miles at the Y this morning, then immediately came home and ate a pile of mini peanut butter cups.

I have a council meeting tonight and am making no attempt to look professional. Makeup is more than I can muster. They’re lucky I showered and brushed my teeth.

I put my kids to bed an hour early last night for no good reason other than I wanted to sit on the couch alone.

Some weeks are this way, and it’s easy to berate myself and fight with the shoulds-coulds-woulds, but it’s wasted energy (and I don’t have energy to spare this week anyway). So I’m going to finish what I can, let others take over for a bit, go to bed early, enjoy the Easter candy, and feel profoundly grateful for my messy, imperfect, wonderful life. Amen.






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