I had hopes and dreams of making this blog a journal that
documents my progress as I grow and change with each stage of motherhood. I
guess the chasmic gap in posts is a good indication of what happens in the
thick of motherhood. Once my second child was born, that was the nail in the
coffin on what was already a struggle to express my thoughts and emotions in
writing. Between the distraction, exhaustion, and downright lack of “free time”,
I let writing go by the way side. And let’s be honest….it’s easy to shelf
writing in a blog while experiencing the demands of motherhood no matter what,
but especially so when you are full of doubt about your own ability and fear of
sucking…..ok, to put it more eloquently, fear of being mediocre and fear of
having nothing of value to say. That fear coupled with exhaustion and
distraction leaves exactly .0001 seconds of creative and introspective thought.
It is difficult to compile my thoughts into a coherent sentence much less an
eloquent, relatable, challenging, life-giving one when my day begins with an
epic meltdown about seams in socks and why no article of clothing should have a
button or a tag on it for any reason ever.
Between baby fog on steroids with a
second-born child, raging mood swings of a toddler potty training and breaking
a leg, and among constant concern about milk production, sleep, and wondering
where my husband mentioned he was going for work this week and when he said he
would be home; its no wonder I haven’t had a drop of sanity left to write a
worthy enough thought to post! But navigating the “baby fog” phase of life only
proved to lead us a new phase of multiple ER visits, a hospital stay, starting
my own business, a move, traveling, Kindergarten, a still-traveling husband,
and more commitments than I can keep up with and…you know what? Maybe this
silly little blog dream just needs to be in hibernation until my kids graduate
college! But here’s the thing. In this season of life, I have experienced the
most amazing moments--breakthroughs and breakdowns—that, no doubt, women around
the globe can relate to and draw from. I have had massive successes, what felt
like crushing failures and day-to-day moments that I know in my bones are the
stuff of life. I have grown in ways I never expected and for the very first
time in my entire 34 years of living I realize I have a voice worth speaking up
with. I have a story worth telling. I have a message that someone, somewhere is
waiting to hear.
It may have taken a massive amount of prayer, years of waiting
and lamenting over, hundreds of books to hide behind the words of authors and
other women who have voices worthy of speaking up with; and, to be frank, just
enough wine and lack of sleep tonight, for me to realize….I am pretty damn
awesome. I have a faithful, loving God who has been preparing my heart, mind,
and soul for amazing things for 34 years. I am something and some ONE in this
body of Christ and I have a role in bringing forth the kingdom of God. As
terrifying as that is, it is now not nearly as terrifying as letting one more
day roll on without my acknowledging it. Not nearly as terrifying as the
thought of wasting a precious gift given to me by God, cultivated by my Father,
attacked by Satan, and distracted by this world. It is my time. Amongst the
crazy, amongst the exhausted, right smack dab in the middle of busy, and tired,
and hard, and messy……it is my time. Because giving my perspective after I feel
I have “become” something great, or worthy,
or whatever it is I am waiting for is not nearly as fun, exciting, and faith-filled
as jumping in with radical faith that the process is the gift--the becoming is
more important that being. I invite you to come along with me in the process of
becoming. It’s painful, its hard, its illusive, but I know without a doubt its
worth it.
