Recently life has gotten pretty crazy. I knew 2016 was going to be a wild ride, but not to this extent. In January, I felt like I was barely swimming. Between work, school, starting a bible study, fitness coaching, blogging, and other family events, each day was a struggle to get what needed to get done in the 24 hours given. A lot of times I caught myself saying the silly Instagram quote, "You have the same 24 hours in the day as Beyonce" to give myself some sort of encouragement.
In the midst of this month, I found myself drawing more near to God, which is the best direction to go. But finally on one of the last days of the month, I cracked. My poor Dad has always been the one to receive the mental breakdown phone call. While 80% of the tears were probably pure exhaustion, the other 20% were likely me finally being aware of the fact that I had forgotten to leave myself time to just breathe.
After the sob fest, I did yoga and meditation--two things I have never been much of a fan of--and I have never felt so clear. The next day I hopped on a flight to Denver to visit my cousins, no to-do lists included. As I head back to LA (and the reality of life) on February 1st, I am promising myself time for myself this month, even if that means writing it in my planner. Fifteen minutes an evening, cell phone free, to sit in silence and meditate in His word and free myself from anything drawing me away from Him.