In my defense, "normal" wasn't a bad thing. But if I stayed in that place of wishing and striving to get things back to how they used to be, I'd miss out on today.
I love the quiet moments of the Christmas season. But at 4AM yesterday as I soothed a coughing toddler, and scrolled Pinterest for freezer meal plans as we prepare for Connor's birth in a few moths, I thought about how little silence was likely found in that first Christmas experience.
I sat cuddled in an oversized blanket, watching my son play cars. My mind wandering from the boisterous crashing play in front of me, to a recent internal question I hadn't dared voice. I turned to Jared's form beside me on the sectional. "Am I being lazy?"
Wouldn’t it be great if we could harvest the fruit of our crops immediately? Seeds go into the ground, you water it, wait five minutes and BAM, there are baskets of fresh strawberries ripe for the picking. Unfortunately, gardening doesn’t work that way. We prepare the ground, plant, tend to the seedlings, and eventually gather a harvest. Planting seeds in life works pretty much the same way.
I live interrupted. As a toddler mom, my thoughts turn to boisterous hugs and excited distractions. Even as I sat down to write this morning, Dillon ran over to watch my laptop screen and attempted to blow out the sweet smelling candle on the table next to me. Where was I again?
God gives not only the mission, but the power to carry it to completion. Not to shrink back in fear. The opposite of timidity. You are not faint-hearted. You are powerful, endowed with love and blessed with self-discipline.
I was pregnant and now I'm not. I'm still in the thick of this one, so I have less than half figured out. Some days, grief hangs heavy around my neck and other times, it's a smelly onion I thought I'd gotten rid of until another painful layer peels away.