I’m a mother of two, and to be honest sometimes I still feel like a 5th grader except with a mortgage payment and two kids who follow me around and call me “mama”. I mean it, the other night Derek was snoozing and the baby was asleep in his arms reach while Jericho was konked out in his room. There I was, awake to witness the miracles of my life, and I almost burst into tears at how thankful I am. It seems like just yesterday I was a pimple faced 14 year old girl writing love letters to her husband in her Sunday school class at church. True story.
Don’t get me wrong, this is hard as crap but its my hard. This journey was designed just for me. I get one whack at this. My kids will only be little for so long. I’ll never have Jericho as a four year old again, or Kingston as a four month old. I will not despise hard days even if I really really want to. Having kids made me realize that success or a fruitful life is simply taking each day for the sweet gift that it is, whether pregnant with hope or forsaken with grief. It’s courageously loving the people in front of you, and listening to your gut (I’ve convinced myself JESUS speaks through my guts, he’s crazy like that.)
Savor the season. Even the stinky ones.
Long gone are the days chasing after what will eventually disappoint me. Not to say I don’t get caught up in pursuing good things, like suede pumps or double bacon cheeseburgers, but, you know. I know darn well I’m not promised anything will last in this life but I am SAVORING everything BIG TIME while its mine to savor. Life is bitter and life is sweet. Both the bitter and sweet teach us about ourselves, our pain, our dreams, and they make us who we are.
I’m choosing peace (amid the kid chaos), I’m choosing rest (as much as humanly and mentally possible) and I’m choosing joy (enjoying every ounce of this wild beautiful season).