If it weren’t for my bookmarks tab, I’m not sure I could have found my way to my blog tonight. And I’m only sort of kidding.
Hi. Hey. How are you?
I logged on tonight to tell you I’m doing fine. I logged on to write a few words down because my soul longs to write. I logged on because I’m trying to sort things out and this space – writing, blogging, talking here with you – is how I make sense of the jumble inside my brain.
So life, lately. It’s been….
Life with four kids is easier in all the ways they tell you it’s easier. There is balance. Everyone pairs off and what felt constantly off kilter suddenly evens out. And seriously. Nothing is harder than three kids. Not even four.
So there’s that.
But Montgomery has been colicky and homeschooling has started and soon, preschool will also start and well….well…I just feel like I’m constantly cycling through meeting everyone’s needs. First him, then him, then her, then him, and then the cycle starts all over again.
Four kids, I’m starting to realize, will finally, effectively, bring me to my point of surrender. And I’m excited. And terrified. And totally, 100%…ready.
Ever since having Montgomery, I’ve been hearing the same message on repeat: retreat, retreat, retreat.
This is a season of no longer being able to do things simply for the sake of doing things. This is the season of growing up. Of lightening up. Of giving up.
Gosh, that sounds defeating, but if only you knew my heart, you would know it just really isn’t.
I’m ready to give up. Or maybe…give in? I’m ready to retreat. I’m ready to filter out even more of the noise. Scale back even more of the expectations. Pan out even more to see an even bigger picture.
This, is not about making my life “all about the kids.” This, is about making my life.
I have this bad habit of pushing on through my life, never stopping to reflect. Never allowing that reflection to cause re-evaluation. Never allowing that re-evaluation to cause retreat. Never allowing that retreat to allow for…rest.
If you just know me here, on this blog or other social media outlets, this might surprise you. Because, sure, I’m constantly thinking. The wheels are constantly spinning. But don’t you see? Don’t you see that even that can be a form of pushing? A form of not resting? A form of not stopping because the stopping might cause some feeling?
And oh…the feelings.
I’ve always been a better thinker than feeler.
And so, I think it’s time for me to start feeling my way through the dark. Because while my face longs to turn to towards the sun, I know my roots need the deep, dark, rich soil. I know that true growth cannot be devoid of darkness.
And so, I’m stepping back. I’m not there yet. I haven’t made a full retreat. I’m yet to fully surrender. I’m just not ready. But my heart is pulling me back. My heart is asking me to trust. My heart is reminding me that plants with shallow roots might spring up quickly but will soon wither and die by the same sun that caused them to rise. My heart is reminding me that for ever rhythm of action there is an equal and opposite reaction. My heart is reminding me that even the ocean that I love is moved by a tide of rising and falling waves. Everything is pointing to the same thing:
step back. tend to the roots. rest.