White flag.

This woman has wisdom. AND a
motorcycle license.
Perfect combination.

Another early morning where instead of doing what I would choose to do if I was able (work out), I have to do what was chosen for me. Ice my back. Make coffee. Take medication. Sit with God. This is the 2 hour window that I need to prep for my day so I can actually be a walking, functioning member of society.

Tomorrow I have round two of my spine injections. I am putting a lot of hope in tomorrow. What God is asking me this morning: "Why can't you put THAT much hope in Me, today?" I still don't trust God fully. That is disappointing.

The temptation here is to hurry up the healing. But isn't that our way? "As soon as this is over, everything will be great." "If only I was past this, I could get back on track." "If I just didn't have to deal with this, I would be more thankful."

I am learning how to wave the white flag here. I have to surrender. I can fight this all I want, and cry every day about it (which happens each morning, like clock work), or I can surrender. I preach surrender to other people every day. But now it's time for me to man up and do it myself.

I am a fixer. I want to fix things and immediately move on. I equate this problem with that stupid show "Extreme Home Makeover." (sorry if you like it, but it is really emotional propoganda.) They set out to do great things. They rebuild a home in a week. I always wanted them to go back to that house a year later to see how it's fallen apart because of the carelessness of rushing through a renovation.

I want to be renovated by God from the foundation up. And I can only imagine how much time that takes. Because I am tough. And God knows that. He also knows how long this will take so that the change will actually stick.

So it's white flag time. For me. And maybe for something in your life too?

-Liz