Sometimes I feel like my being is like a combustion engine. I require this pent up pressure in order to propel myself forward. I feel it up my shoulders and into my neck. In my mind there is a long list of to-dos that never shortens; as one thing is crossed off, 3 more are added. I have a standard of perfection that is relentless; anything less is a disappointment and a seed of sorrow. I long to deflate; to rest; to be at peace. When my daughter falls down, I tell her to get up and shake it off. When I brush her hair and she complains that it hurts as I try to get out the tangles, I tell her she needs to learn to be strong. I don't want her to be weak. When I'm sick I heartily resist taking a nap. But isn't it the best when someone comes and holds you when you don't feel well. I don't want my sweet lass to be hard and aloof. How do I teach her and help her to be both strong and vulnerable; ever striving for truer Christ-likeness and yet real with her weakness and failings. How can I teach her to "strive for excellence" as my ninth grade geometry teacher repeatedly said and not beat herself up when she falls short. How do I guide her in these mysteries of paradox when I have yet to grasp them myself. I suspect it once again has something or much to do with my attempt in my flesh to accomplish these things in me and in her in contrast to a resting in Christ who by His Spirit can beautifully work these in us.