May You Be Well

It's nothing new that there's a lot of heavy crap in this world. Recently I've watched some friends have to go through some major storms in their lives and it's just heartbreaking to watch. Some days it feels like darkness and the really hard things are all that we can see. The days where ten things have already gone wrong before noon and you're one mess-up away from breaking down in the kroger parking lot. When things go south, my tendency is to want to fix it all overnight. But sometimes the mess is bigger than anything a bunch of humans can clean up with our own two hands. I'm learning that's when surrender rings loudest. 

Whether it's comparison, loneliness, family conflict, creative complacency, losing loved ones, your business isn't growing as much as you'd like, etc, it all just adds up into a giant mess that we try to put behind us every day when we walk out the door. And the thing is, there's not a lot of joy in that kind of existence. When we try to carry all of those burdens, we make it ten times harder than it needs to be. I decided a few weeks ago that I'd had enough of that. I had a long talk with Jesus on my drives over Thanksgiving and I had some realizations that I wanted to share with you guys. 

I was going to make a conscious effort to find the light in my days. I put my pride aside and told Jesus he was going to have to handle the heavy stuff because I'm tired of trying. I focused on the good things and the blessings in my life, like my crazy but sweet family, the beauty of creativity and how incredibly talented people are, working along coworkers that chase excellence and also care about one another, Saturday mornings spent at coffee shops, small successes in my side business, etc. When I decided to stop constantly comparing myself to others and trying to fix all of  the hard things that aren't meant for me to fix, that made all the difference. It's not rocket science, but a shift in focus has made all the difference and I wanted to challenge you to this as well, friends. The hard stuff is still there and it's still valid and true, but I'm choosing to find the light in the cracks instead. 

In the words of The Lone Bellow, 

You may find joy
You might find pain
Sorrow and love
But you will remain
May you be well.

Here's to living in the light, friends. 

Always in your corner, 

Hales

p.s. Here's a playlist of songs I listen to while working, happy streaming.