Sometimes all you can do is the next thing.
When it’s terrible and exhausting and you don’t know where you’re going or what to do, all you can do is the next thing.
Get out of bed. Brush your teeth. Put on your big girl panties. Walk out the door.
It’s in those seasons when the here and now is so overwhelming that you can’t look more than one step ahead. So you do the next thing, and worry about the thing after that later.
I hate it, but there is something to be said for doing the next thing.
Life is lived pretty exclusively in the here and now, even if we think about it in terms of the next thing and the thing after that.
Doing the next thing keeps me grounded in this thing that I’m in, and I need that.
The next thing gives me hope that there is a next thing, that this things is not the end.
And the next thing gives me something to do when I have no idea where I’m headed.
I just do the next thing until I run out of next things (I haven’t yet).
Today was full of next things.
Turn off the alarm. Get out of the bed. Take a shower, brew the coffee, grab the bag, drive the car, teach the kiddos. Mentor a new teacher, translate for conference after conference, drive home.
Sufficient for each moment is its own trouble.
I’m still learning, but I think I love the next thing.
Especially because right now, the next thing is definitely bed.
This post is part of my 31 days of Love Letters series. Click here to see the rest of the posts in the series.