A Pointless Post Perhaps
“Please forgive the lengthy period in which I haven’t written…”
When I was in the ninth grade this was the first line of a writing project I was assigned. It was supposed to be an Anne Frank type letter. I thought it sounded nice and flourish-y. Now, every time it really has been a long time since I put words on paper, I remember that first line.
It’s true. It’s been a while since I’ve blogged, and I’ve suffered for it.
Truth is, there is just so much going on and I’ve got so many thoughts and feelings I’m just trying to keep up.
After returning from our amazing family vacation in Crested Butte in August I started a whole 30, re-energized and ready to get myself healthy and happening again. The clean mountain air spurned me forward. I was ready to hit my physical goals. I can even be quoted as saying that this coming April I would really like to do something “Big” and “Physical” for my fortieth birthday.
However, only a few days into my 30-day detox, I argued with a giant multi-vitamin as I hovered over my kitchen sink over the matter of throwing up. “No.” I said. “No. I will NOT throw up.” The giant horse pill heeded, and I continued on to work that morning unphased.
A sweet potato and egg breakfast a few days later, however, had other plans and preferred the kitchen sink to my stomach. None the wiser, I assumed that I must really, really be hooked on all the junky processed food for my body to be revolting the way that it was; not only to find some of the “clean” food absolutely vulgar but to crave, with a strength I didn’t know I possessed the luxuries of Little Debbie snack cakes and sourdough bread.
It took days, and some innocent calendar math, to casually add a pregnancy test or two to my Kroger pick up order.
Positive.
Twice.
Positive.
Pregnant. There’s something harsh and medical about that word. It cuts to the chase, yes, but I prefer “expecting”. It’s softer, friendlier. It seems very proper and Victorian.
I mean, I realize this pregnancy wasn’t an impossibility. I’m a married grown up who has carried three other children. I understand. This possibility was just very, very far from my mind. I’ll quote one of my favorite movies, Christmas Vacation: “If I had woken up tomorrow morning with my head sewn to the carpet, I could not be more surprised than I am right now.”
All that being said, the dust has settled. We’ve warmed to the idea and are now joyous and thankful for this blessing that God saw fit to simply plop in our laps without any of our own plans involved.
The thing is, this is big. We’re going from a three-kid family to a four-kid family.
AND, we’re living in a small, three bedroom rent house.
Now, first I have to back up. Over a year ago we sold our 2200 sq. ft. home in North Richland Hills. It was a much needed, relatively quick decision. One that we’d hoped would set our family on the right course not only financially but in every way we could hope for. We wanted better habits, better focus on what mattered, stability, security.
We have since grown in ways I never expected and my prayers on several fronts were answered in beautiful ways that I cannot adequately describe in words.
But right now, my mind, my hopes, my dreams are all a jumble in my heart and I don’t feel like I have much to share that has a beginning, a middle and an encouraging ending.
We’ve gone from three school aged kids to realizing we’re starting all over again with a baby. Close to my fortieth birthday, nonetheless. How’s that for “big and physical”??
We’ve gone from hopeless and strapped financially to behaving like loving, Christian adults in our home.
We’ve gone seeing each other at our worst to being daily surprised by our best.
We’ve gone from looking for land to own to realizing that our budget is better suiting to a house closer to town for now and buying land where we really, really want it in a couple of years in East Texas.
Side note: I love East Texas and its pines and rolling hills and red dirt. Always have. When it comes to barely affording a few acres in Wise county now or waiting a few years to own a spread in East Texas, I’ll wait patiently.
Folks, I love writing and I love that someone might come a long and read this blog. I always hope and pray that something I say might encourage someone. Lately I’ve felt like I just don’t have much to offer. After all, we have a lot going on! I have a hard time focusing on what needs to be done around my house today let alone coming to some poignant conclusion about it all I feel worthy enough to share with you.
The thing is tonight, as I was thinking how desperately I wanted to get back at writing and of all the attempts and half essays I have saved on my computer from now back to July, I was stumped.
I was making a list of things I needed for my physical science class tomorrow, to include boric acid and lighters, at co-op and printing and laminating an alphabet turkey for my two-year olds. (c’mon, preschool language arts!). I was trying to get all the things done. All. The. Things. And the only reason I’m able to do this all at once is because my kids are away for the night and my husband went to bed early.
Anyway, I thought, so what if I don’t have a strikingly poignant essay? What’s the point of all this STUFF I AM DOING RIGHT NOW?
Well, all of this is consistent with a theme.
A little over a year ago my prayers were desperate. I felt like everything was falling apart and try as I might to glue it all back together, it would all mercilessly crumble again. From my success as a mother, to my marriage, to our finances it was all madness. It had seemingly no purpose other than to survive.
So, at first glance, as I’m trying to gather my thoughts and I see my busyness, what with the laminating and the to do list and all the things I’m trying to focus on I realize that my life is incredibly full.
I’m not trying to patch holes in a dam that holds back disaster anymore. That’s exactly what I was doing for the last several years. I asked God to lead me and gave up my plans to him and I don’t know what’s going to happen yet.
If there is disaster, He’ll hold me through it and keep me strong. I pray for protection over my kiddos and our family. If there are good, rich blessings then I am so excited to see what they are.
I am so excited to see where He’s taking me. This pregnancy is a great example of that. I feel so blessed and honored that God saw fit to bless me this way.
I’ve heard so many people lately, especially mommas, describe how exhausted they feel. They talk about how they are so worn out and stretched so thin. I think it’s important to recognize things that tear us away from God and focusing on Him like pleasing our peers or trying to achieve some social media standard. I think those things are different than the hard work He has given us to do that brings us closer to Him.
Things in our house were not great about 14 months ago even though I know God provided for myself and my family, especially when our own stubborn stupidity got in the way of His plan for us.
Now, things are not any less busy. I am pregnant and tired and sometimes feel overwhelmed. There is still a lot to do, hard choices to make and hard work to put in.
God has been there in such an evident way, though. I know He’s been there all along but giving up my plans for His has been a beautiful thing.
So, our plans as a family at the moment are dynamic and ever changing. Some things are really, really hard even when you’re on God’s path for you. What is making life a lot less confusing and more purposeful is the fact that we’re committed to following Him.
That’s the point of it, right? Follow Him.
One of my sons asked me today about baptism. It was a discussion I loved to have with him mostly because it is THE THING. Your relationship with God is everything. Your faith, what you cling to is so very, very important.
If you’re missing that thing, I would love to pray with you and help you in anyway I can.
For anyone struggling, cling to God and pray. Even if you’re angry or disappointed.
If you’re in a season of hard work and relative happiness then keep on keeping on, sister, and have thine own way, Lord.
