It feels strange and a little sad to put on paper that we’re already almost to that halfway point in my favorite season…I long for summer when it’s not here, and love to savor every bit of life in its midst. Time goes by much too quickly these days–a warning I have tried to heed from my elders as the years go on, and one that I am still working hard to navigate. How can time possibly go any faster than it did before, when the length of minutes, days and years never really changes? The answer, I’m discovering, is that in my busyness and “intentionality” and haste, I have lost some of my ability to truly make the most of the hours entrusted to me…I’m sure others can relate!

So here I am, mid-summer, and desiring so much to do a better job of managing my days. Henry is three and rounding the corner on preschool, and his baby sister is somehow turning ONE a month from this weekend, acting much more like a little girl these days than a baby. In a way I don’t know how this happened–you know, in that cliché way…because babies turn into little people so quickly and their growth and change happens exponentially faster when they’re small than later on in life. But then in a way, I do know. And it’s my own doing, whether or not I was aware of it all as it happened. The truth is, I lived with complete tunnel vision for five months when Eloise was born, while we worked through a dairy issue and cracked the code on what was making her (and subsequently our) days so challenging. I held her for hours at night, or we passed her back and forth, trying to push through the crying and wriggling and pain and pacing and bouncing and can’t. see. straight. kind of struggle that so often comes with babies.

Don’t get me wrong. It was worth every minute. But there’s no denying it was hard. Some days, it was harder than I thought I could handle. And in the midst of that hard place, things fell away from my otherwise usual existence, and I forgot a bit of who I am. Or who I was. I’m sure I’m not exactly the same person now, six months later.

Thank goodness.

Maybe if I hadn’t been in that place six months ago, I wouldn’t have begun the process of digging myself out. It sure would have been easier in that space to feel like I had everything under control, but it was good to get a serious lesson in humility and brokenness as a person–and especially as a mom. Those first five months of holding Eloise without end have since taught me a few things. While I felt cornered into a space of loss and chaos for a while, I also got desperate. And my desperation has changed shape over these subsequent months, but in every case, it has caused me to turn to what I really know (and it’s pretty simple).

I know that God never left me in the tunnel. I know that He sees me and knows my heart and my needs. I know that He has sustained me through this particular bit of the mess. I know that He has pursued me patiently, and also that He was ready and waiting for me to decide I was due to snap out of it and take notice again. He has my attention. I’m super grateful for this. I can’t say I have a crazy number of answers, or that I could dole out advice any better today than I did a year ago. Maybe. But it would be cautious advice, that I’d hope to share with as much grace and consideration as I could muster.

So where does that leave things? Well, I’m claiming the hours back. I’m not naive in thinking that I could just store them up again and make up for lost time, necessarily, but I’m discovering anew how to be intentional with my days and all that God has entrusted to me in them. I know this sounds idealistic. It could be. But what I mean is fairly simple. I’m working each day at making my “yes” be my “yes,” and my “no” be my “no.” I’m working on deleting the in between. When Henry asks me to play, the answer is yes. When Eloise needs her mama, the answer is yes. And if I can’t, I’m trying to make sure it’s for a very good reason. I’m re-prioritizing what I’m called to. Can I tell you just how good it feels?! It’s kind of amazing…like a weight lifting off of me and life clearing a path in the direction I should go. God clearing a path, really. And me paying attention.

I’m back here on the blog for this reason. For the same reason I’m drawn back to it every time. Because words on paper are lifeblood to me. Built into my soul. And when I’m not mothering or writing or celebrating life with my dearests, I’m not living. Not fully. Like breathing without taking full breaths and always craving more air. And I’m going to breathe this time. Because life keeps going by no matter what, and I can’t stand the thought of participating in it half way.

can’t wait to share again soon. you know, before summer is waning and i’m wondering again where the time has gone.

xo,

mm