Lately I have felt so disconnected. Almost so creatively and physically sapped, that to even try to be creative seemed impossible. There is a flooding of beauty and inspiration all around me, but am I being creative or simply mimicking what I think should inspire me? In our lives, in our home. To have a unique sound, and not just living a life of playing covers of somebody else’s songs.
Someone else’s tastes. Some one else’s style. Some one else’s personality. Who are you, really? Who am I? Why do I feel so flustered and frustrated. What is it that we are working towards, and does it really matter if we can’t stop and soak in these moments with one another. Always doing, bustling, hustling, working, answering. Always. always. Until suddenly, before we know it a year of our lives have gone by, and we simply blinked and missed it. But we didn’t really miss it… yet. I did. I am trying to soak it up, but it is happening too fast. My babies are growing. And I am searching to find myself amongst all of the stuff… the decisions, the heart ache, the changing of plans, the making of plans, the feeding of children, the loving of a man I so deeply love…
The thing is, I have gotten so out of touch with the love of living. I mean, I really love, deeply, but I just want to remember the simple joy of being glad to be alive. To wear a smile more often. To be ok with the hurt and the love. I get so afraid of that hurt. I don’t want to touch it, to feel it… to let it be there. But it is and it was. Oh, but HE was there and is there too. He gave me the little boy who tells me “Mamma, you are a helper.” the brown eyes and cuddly boy who climbs on my lap, smells me deep and says “Oh mamma, I loooooove you.” And he just drinks me in. And I drink him in. And I sit in that love. Or those little blue eyes and chubby hands that caress my chest, and smile with all the joy that ever could be present in one little soul. For me. whew.
And that is when, I see, that I am surrounded by the things that really inspire me. That get me out of bed in the morning. That get me excited about doing. Being. Resting.
The list can wait. I can have grace. I can choose to create, and let go of the vices that hold me. The fear that I might miss something. An opportunity? A friendship? I don’t know what… but I need to remember I am not missing out, I am in it right now. I don’t want to miss these days a year from now. I want to just take them as they come.
We celebrated the launch of the Space last month. And I have to admit I felt so distant from something that has been such a dream in our lives. A week of me being so sick and solo parenting, Matt working early and late every day. I was more then tired when the day rolled around. And all I could feel was a sense of disappointment in myself for not being available to help more, and plan more, and do more. But that didn’t matter on Friday morning; I wanted to celebrate this amazing man of mine. A monument. Something to remember this time and this moment. So I grabbed some wood, and I worked with my hands. In my pajama pants, and with my boys calling for me, and between feeding and napping a little baby… and at the end of it, though small, I had a token of celebration for my love. Though imperfect, I felt thankful to just give of myself. Something, in a way I could, and in a way that was mine to give.
Some days, as I am building this house and this life, I realize I have rooms there simply because I think they “should” be there. Rooms in my heart that aren’t really mine… so they sit empty. And I feel this constant tug that I should be doing something like someone else.
Lately, I feel as though I am on the verge of simply finding out why God created me as He did. And why he wanted me to be the mother to my boys and to our little girl. He chose me. He chose me to be Matt’s wife, as much as I chose Matt and Matt chose me. We chose each other. That is what we have to remember when this life feels like too much.
This last year has been hard, and dark, and stretching. But, I finally feel the light of dawn, and I thank God that Matt and I are emerging hand in hand. Sun on our faces, sand between our toes, and water up to our knees.