Back in December, I remember despising the cold and then noticing there were a few trees that had somehow produced some beautiful red buds. These bursts of red had somehow snuck into the cold season by feeding off a short warm spell we had gotten. I admired the buds and reflected on how my life felt very much like a winter and how much I long to encourage and foster bursts of color to grow in me and in my home.
Currently, my days are filled with so much noise that by the time my kids’ bedtimes roll around, I am dizzy from all the input and the chances of my forming any coherent thoughts are slim to none. I wrestle with and resent that this is the stage of life I’m in right now. I give so much during the day and then I’m beat in the evening.
I’d love to have a girls’ night with my close friends but my energy is gone. I’d love to have a deep, meaningful conversation with my husband but how do I form a thought when I can barely keep my eyes open? And let’s not forget that budget review we’ve been pushing to the corner of the desk. How will I find the brain power for that?
And then there is music. Where am I going to fit that in? I’ve reached a point where I realize–it is staring me plainly in the face–that I need to practice if I want to improve musically. I need to dedicate some time to song-writing if I want to write more songs or finish any of the pages of unfinished ones.
Yet, this is where God has me right now. Wrestling. I read a post recently by Seth’s cousin regarding the very recent loss of her husband to brain cancer. She has been reading books on grief and this was one of the quotes she shared, “Darkness is inevitable and unavoidable. Walk in it rather than try to outrun it.”
These words were strangely comforting to me. Though I wouldn’t call this busy season of being a mom of little children a time that is entirely made up of “darkness,” I would say that it does have its dark moments. It is tiring, it is exhausting, it runs me down. I cry, I mourn. I feel like I am drowning sometimes. Seth has been gone on a trip for the past few days and I have been reminded how fortunate I am to have a spouse to shoulder this load with me. When three little voices are all calling for my attention at once, my heart and brain get overloaded so quickly.
In my wrestling, I battle with balance. Am I giving enough attention to my children? Am I giving enough individual attention to my children? Am I getting the essentials done around the house? Am I making time to take care of my body? Am I spending enough time with my husband and still connecting with him amongst all the busy-ness? Am I praying enough? Do I share the gospel enough with my kids? When should I squeeze in some piano scales or some guitar finger-work? When will I ever get 8 hours of sleep in a row? Did I remember to get butter? Is that a smashed pea on the floor?
And I digress…the point is, it is hard to balance it all and hard to digest it all! It can be overwhelming.
I don’t have it all together. But I am trying to walk IN this season instead of outrun it.
Maybe tonight I’ll choose to forsake the pile of dishes so that I can cuddle my almost-2-year-old. I can only cuddle her as a one-year-old for a few more weeks. Maybe tomorrow I’ll sit and play scales while my family is playing in the same room–and I’ll falter and fumble around the keys–and maybe my Addie will climb in my lap and we can talk about how many sharps are in the Key of D. Maybe I’ll give my husband a huge kiss–like our very first kiss, kiss–when he comes home and I’ll be thankful that God has still given me another day with him. Maybe I’ll watch Dryden make yet another origami creation and push my thoughts and phone aside to invest my time into him for a few minutes.
This season is hard but if I try to outrun it, I might miss some really, really good things. So I’ll walk in it and look for the bursts of red.