The pressure that's squeezed me for months has loosened. It had gotten progressively stronger, more forceful, wringing me exhausted even before the morning started. It's loosened, but it's not gone, and I know that it won't ever fully leave. I will get periodic reprieves, opportunities to rest, and I must make the most of those moments so that I am girded and ready when the pressure tightens again.
I am not unique, not even extraordinary. I am a mother, a wife, a daughter, a sister, an aunt, a teacher, a friend, and so I am pressured. Each and every day, as I expand my heart and let more people into it, I am pressured. I am squeezed with worries and concerns and fears.