Badges
In my early years, rest was a four-lettered word. I never had time to rest. I was too busy. I had papers to grade, meetings to attend, and parenting duties to attend to.I was too busy to slow down. Not that I wanted to. What would I do with my well-earned badge of busyness I proudly displayed for all to see? And those who missed the badge surely couldn't tune out my recounting of my schedule just to reinforce me busyness. I found my sense of worth in the number of activities I could enmesh myself in. Don't get me wrong.The busyness was something I wanted, something I took pride in. In all truthfulness, I was hiding in those activities so I wouldn't have to face the problems in my life, I was rotten at resting; something I was clueless at doing. So instead of taking the time to figure it out, I piled more busyness on myself and continued to wear the badge with pride, There were no spontaneous trips to Dairy Queen for my boys or spontaneous trips to the park or any