Out of Shape

I’m out of shape. I get out of breath, my appetite is on ten, and I can’t even take the stairs. Whew chile, I’m out of shape!

I’m out of shape, but they say you have to start somewhere, right? So, I grab my headphones, grab my gym shoes (to get them out of the way), and close the door. Here I am, in my closet, on the floor trying to get into shape…because I’m formless.

“Formless in a New Dimension” ( as stated by PT) was the best way to describe my state of being in this new city, new job… New Season! I kind of knew I couldn’t carry an old version of myself into a new season of life, but oh how I wish I had an ‘automatic update’ setting. But nah, it doesn’t work like that. Literally my faith, confidence, disciplines, wisdom, and identity have to grow, and it doesn’t necessarily happen simultaneously either. So, this version of who I am becoming in this season is immature, vulnerable, hesitant, and formless.

I am formless right now, searching for a center that doesn’t seem to exist.

But I am formless right now, having all I need to take form.

So, I sit here and sometimes I just listen. Sometimes I cry. Sometimes I laugh. All the time I worship.

So, I sit here and when I’m out of breath, He breathes on me. When I’m hungry, He fills me up. When the stairs look daunting, He guides me to the top.

Yea, I’m out of shape, but I’m getting tailored fit.

Selah.