There was a time I was writing and blogging much, MUCH more regularly. But it’s been something that I’ve struggled to keep up with since having our fourth baby and continuing to try and do my best as a relatively new homeschooling momma. And so, as I’ve learned to do with other things, I simply had to hold it with open hands.
Laying something aside for one season isn’t the same thing as saying goodbye to it forever.
Sometimes, clinging too tightly to things that don’t fit our current season of life is a good way to destroy the otherwise good and much loved thing. When we are willing to lay aside that thing we love – but know it isn’t for our current time of life – then we create space for the possibility that one day, we will be able to pick it back up again.
And so for the year, I’ve tried to be honest and kind to myself during a time of life where I mostly feel like all I ever really accomplish each day is attempting to meet everyone’s basic needs. Four young kids at home has felt pretty all consuming at times. It’s not bad, and I’m not unhappy with the way this current season is unfolding. But there are realities that I’m trying to navigate with a balance of continuing to grow personally while graciously accepting my limitations. Some days, all I am able to do is keep everyone fed, in clean clothes, and *relatively* happy before it’s time to go to bed, then wake up and do it all over again.
I released myself from feeling the weight of expectations that are best suited to another time of life, and any guilt that tends to accompany feelings of “should”.
And then, one morning, I woke up and knew it was time to start writing again. Montgomery has been sleeping better. Spring is in the air. A few things have shifted in my head and my heart and here I am, again making space for change. I’ve said this in previous posts and I’m sure I’ll keep right along saying it – life isn’t linear. We don’t move and grow and change in a forward line. We circle through. We find ourselves moving away from things, often times to only return to the old thing with new eyes. New perspective. New challenges. New opportunities for growth.
So I find myself here, back at my at my kitchen table, with a lap top open and a hot cup of coffee and a sweet new baby next to me. My mind is bursting with fresh ideas and my heart is being challenged with new growth. I bring all my questions and inspirations and ideas here, to my writing, and my writing in return, gives me the gift of understanding.
And this is why I love writing. Writing is a way for me to make sense of myself, my world, and the thoughts and feelings that can otherwise be difficult for me to process.
For me, writing is healing, because writing clears out the chatter that blocks wisdom. And I believe healing and wisdom always come hand in hand.
Ironically, I’ve never been one to keep a journal. It’s just felt like something to maintain. But as I haven’t been able to make as much time for my blog over the past year, I’ve found myself jotting down more and more things in my notebooks. I’ve wanted to record memories of kids and what it’s like to live this part of my life – of course – but also…I’ve been writing down ideas and passages that speak to me and working through questions I have and fears I’ve faced. It’s almost like this break from blogging wasn’t really just about not having the time. It’s almost as if I had to step back before I could step forward.
As if it were that?
It was definitely that.
I’ve noticed a pattern in my life. Before I can enter a season of saying “yes,” first, I’ll have to walk through a season of no. And again, this feels cyclical. Yes, no, yes, no. One season builds on the next. The one informs and instructs the other.
For the past year, I’ve been slowly saying no to more and more things. It was necessary because of my family life dynamic but more than that it was necessary to make space for the new yesses on the horizon.
If you read my last post, On the Question of Having More Babies, then you know that I’ve been sensing that there are some new things coming for me and my family. And that excites me. Not just because it’s something “new,” although there is some truth to that. But mostly, it’s because that means that the cycle of growth continues to flow. I no longer views seasons of life through static eyes holding onto static hopes. I know that things will continue to change. I know that I can’t hold on to this and still expect that. I know that old vines must be pruned to be made for new fruit. And so, when I look back and see the season of no coming to a close and feel the breath of the season of yes on my skin, it affirms and encourages me and reminds me that this is life. This is how it goes.
So here I am. Back to saying “yes” to blogging. At least, once in awhile. As much as I’ve learned to enjoy doing some writing for myself these last few months, I miss the community that blogging has built. Writing might be done as a solitary act, but it brings with it flesh and blood and real life conversations and friendships that have meant the world to me. I love writing. I love connecting. I love learning and growing and sharing in it here – together.
I’m very much struggling to find my daily rhythm with the kids right now. I’m struggling to meet all their needs while also figuring out this world of homeschooling. I’m struggling to do the laundry and change the diapers and teach the lessons and go on the walks, all the while making space for some things I love as well. But I’ve come to the somewhat freeing realization that the struggles and the fumbling and the wondering is what makes this experience so holy. I don’t think the goal or the point is to figure it all out. To execute it perfectly. To get all the proverbial ducks in a row.
To be honest, sometimes I wish that were the point, because that means it would be possible to achieve. But it’s not, so it’s not.
So I’ll continue to participate in this life in the ways that I know, and the ways I’m being shown. I’ll continue to work through those ideas and lessons and share it all with you here. Because while I may write to understand my world, I share it here so that I can be a part – of yours.