Life is like a balance beam. Lean too far to one side and you're likely to topple over.
I think when I was younger, I must have been a gymnast. Balancing my life back then wasn't all that difficult: school, home, friends, school, home, friends... Are you kidding me? I was doing backflips! When I graduated, I suddenly had to step it up a notch. Instead of that smooth, wide plank beneath my feet, I found myself upon a cold, biting, metal wire, juggling colorful balls of responsibility. One, two, three, one, two, three, and just when I got the hang of it, more balls would fly my way. Not only did I have to catch them without falling off the tight-rope, I also had to incorporate them into the act without dropping any of the other balls!
There are days when I find myself pitching and leaning, struggling to stay aloft. So much to do, so little time. Is there ever enough? Will there ever be enough? The balls come down and fit so neatly into the palm of my hand: husband, children, housework, prayer, friendship, writing, sleep... But each one is only there for a moment before I have to toss it up again to catch the next.
There are days when I find myself hesitating, unwilling to move forward. Wouldn't it be easier to just stand still? To stand still for one blessed, restful moment and simply breathe? But as my shoulders relax and the weight of my body settles in, the sting of the steel beneath my feet urges me on. On to new experiences, on to new growth, on to whatever lies ahead.
There are days when I wonder what would happen if I fall. Would the balls all drop and roll away, a rainbow of dreams now beyond my reach? It's true that at times they can be difficult to manage, but they are mine. And when it comes right down to it, they're all I have. Could I gather them back into my arms, cherishing each one, so very grateful for each one, and pick up where I left off?
I think that as long as I have a soft place to land and loving arms to lift me up, I'll be okay.