I love this. Wish I knew where the art was from in order to give proper credit…found it on Pinterest. Ahhh, Pinterest 🙂
such wisdom, yes?
mm
stirred, not shaken.
Yesterday around lunch, I grabbed my bags and headed out for some much needed time with four of my favorite women. I had anticipated the weekend away in both good and challenging ways…looking forward to the chance to let my hair down around friends who have known me for nearly a decade (some longer:), and wondering how I’d feel about being away from my favorite little person overnight. As I prepped to go mid-morning, I struggled unnecessarily with the details of feedings and outfits and schedules for the babe, trying wholeheartedly to remind myself that 24 hours would go by in a blink. And then blink it did.
Arriving at my weekend destination with snacks and the like in hand, I joined an already budding catch-up session in the kitchen–each of us picking up where we’d left off weeks or months ago, laughing and crying and reminiscing straight on through the afternoon, then the evening. And conversation never skipped a beat–not once. Stories poured out into the middle of the room over crackers and dip, wine, dinner, banana bars, pj’s, bedtime. Long after we’d gone to bed we were still catching up, still sharing our hearts with each other like only the best of friends can do.
I saw the clock at 4am and remember little after that until morning. And five hours later, when I woke up without worry about feeding times and diaper changes and the like, I felt as though I’d slept for ten. Refreshed. Rejuvenated. Recharged.
We gathered at the kitchen table. We laughed. Sipped coffee over coffee cake, laughed some more. Then we each sat quietly for a bit and wrote a letter to ourselves about where we are now and where we hope to be when January 2013 arrives. It was the most perfect way to wrap up a visit I never knew I’d so badly needed.
Getting ready to face the day was reminiscent of college–all of the girls chatty in the bathroom, hair dryers and curling irons busy while we eeked out every last minute of our time together. Packing up and promising follow-up conversations over coffee and dinner before too much time passes by, we recounted 15 straight hours of conversation from the day before. You know you’re friends when…
There is something so sacred about friendship when it has withstood (and battled and weathered and triumphed over) the test of time (and distance and circumstance:). And without a doubt I can say that these women, the ones I trust implicitly with my heart and my scars, my absolute imperfections and worries and hopes and aspirations, are among those whom God has used in countless ways to bless my life and to draw me nearer to Him.
I left home yesterday worrying about what the next 24 hours would hold, letting the mama in me tug at all of the places in my heart I haven’t put down since last April 25th. And those places didn’t disappear overnight–in fact, they probably grew in the healthiest ways while I was gone. But as one of my dear friends reminded me this weekend, I needed the space to just be Molly for a little while. Still “Molly, Henry’s mommy,” just not, “Molly with the diaper bag and stroller in tow.”
On the drive home today (and really from the minute our mini-getaway began), I felt an amazing sense of peace. Of joy. Of God clearing out the clutter of the everyday to open my heart to all that He had waiting for me, among some of the most beautiful people I know. And when I came home, that precious, smiley boy was having a fine time with his daddy, grinning ear to ear as I came into view and making my whole self inhale in a different and perfect way.
My heart is stirred tonight. Lighter. My spirit, uplifted.
filled with gratitude,
mm
pressed, but not crushed.
I don’t know what to say, but I still want to say it. I’ve pushed an emotion quite far down for the better portion of a week, and now, in the quiet of the living room tonight, it’s all welling up in a big way. I feel vulnerable–more than I’m comfortable with, and uneasy–more than I’d like to admit.
What do you do when someone you love so much…someone who has always been strong for you…is suddenly frail? And not in a way you can ignore, but in a way that breaks your heart as you face it? It’s inevitable, with time, and you knew it would be. But for all the years you leaned and shared and laughed and cried and dreamt and honored and admired, this time–this season, isn’t one you ever wanted to admit would come.
It’s not that there isn’t hope, or that medicine and time can’t heal. I know they can. But age is still age, and the more things change in this case, the less they stay the same. My whole self is aching, and I just don’t really know what to do with the wave of frustration I have for my inability to do little but pray.
Pray.
It feels like a small thing right now, when I know that it’s the very biggest thing I can do. And I know that God will hear me and that He’ll answer in His way, but when there’s hurt or wavering hope, it’s just not as easy as we’d like it to be sometimes. At least for me, tonight, it’s not.
I’m not saying much–not being specific, because I want to protect the situation at hand and the people I love who are close to it and hurting, too. But I still needed to share tonight that there’s a little bit of air working its way out of my spirit–like a balloon with a pin prick of a leak that’s hardly visible, but impacting nonetheless. I’m not deflated, yet certainly unwell and uncomfortable in what has always been a very safe and secure part of my heart. I don’t like it. I won’t. It feels like nothing can fix it right now…
So there is discontent. A bit more of a distraction than I’d like to admit, although I should. There’s worry where prayer should be, and discouragement where hope should set in. I’ll keep working towards a different set of eyes for the situation–for peace and/or resolution to come swiftly for the people I love. And for me. Somehow it’s so much easier to imagine that peace when it’s someone else’s story, someone else’s family, someone else’s heart.
I hate how I’m feeling, but then again, God knew that before I did. And He sees me. Sees all of us. Thank goodness.
processing,
mm
embrace.
Shortly after the clock struck midnight last year, I committed this word to 2011, with the hope and prayer that I would adopt it in its fullness as I went about life, work and relationships. God was faithful to provide the guidance I needed as I pursued growth in the every day (in fact, when I searched for the word “grow” on my blog for the past 12 months, I was pleased to find it in no less than 78 entries:) Many things grew in my life the last calendar year, and as a result, I am yet again a changed and changing person as I look towards the next 12 months on this, the first day of the year.
I’m a little sad to let GROW sink back a bit into the periphery of my days (although there’s no doubt it will continue to bubble and simmer in the parts of me that became so close to the idea since last January 1st.) But I’m also all about the newness of things and the pursuit of something else to spur me along. I truly enjoy the process of becoming. Thus, after nearly a week of bouncing words around in my mind and trying to pray towards a solid focus for the days ahead, I have landed on what I think is the perfect word for 2012: embrace.
Consider it as defined by Merriam-Webster:
Embrace
transitive verb
3
a : to take up especially readily or gladly <embrace a cause>b : to avail oneself of : welcome <embraced the opportunity to study further>
4
a : to take in or include as a part, item, or element of a more inclusive whole <charity embraces all acts that contribute to human welfare>
I love this word. I particularly love it as defined in #3: to take up especially readily or gladly; to avail oneself of.
As I process what it means to embrace over the next 366 days (yep, it’s a leap year ;), I anticipate finding new joy in the pursuit. I am trusting God for His clarity–that I’ll be drawn to the things in each day that He wants me to embrace: prayer, family, motherhood, home, work, playtime, nature, creativity, order, worship, friendship, words, peace. Already, i’m inspired by the possibility of what this next year might bring!
embracing home, lights still twinkling on the tree and sweet cuddly moments in the nursery tonight,
mm
filling up days.
I am more absent here than I’d like as of late, and I know I’ll look back and wish that I’d somehow better documented all of the wonderful that is filling up my life right now. But the days are so full. And I go to bed SO late. And our growing boy gets up when he gets up–as all mothers reading this most definitely understand.
I am not complaining in the least bit, because truthfully, I love the moment in the morning when Henry’s head peeks over the side of his crib with those big eyes surveying the day and saying, “Hello, Mommy! I’m so glad to see you! And I’m SO hungry! Please pick me up so I can be all kinds of cuddly and lovey. It’s MORNING!!!” It’s pretty much the best thing ever…well, besides the snuggling before bed and all of the cozy in between. I looooooove being Henry’s mom. (But you knew that.)
So yes, the days are full, and full of all of the exact kind of things I imagined they’d be when I became a mom, plus a few more added in for good measure. I’m finding I spend little time on Facebook or browsing the internet or “window shopping” online anymore because there is little time to do it–and I’m grateful. Life has adjusted in such a way that I’ve swapped those things out for the fullness of one-on-one interactions with Hank and closer, more personal relationships with the moms, friends, family and world around me. It feels good. And at the end of the day, I am authentically and perfectly worn out. God is sustaining me each morning for whatever lies ahead of me in that 24 hour span of time. Thank goodness He is so attentive to my needs–even those in the categories of energy, patience, willingness, gratitude, rest, and peace on a daily basis. And his grace is the thing that gets me through to the next bit, and the next. We serve such a generous God!
Tonight, I have the chance to be in bed close to midnight, and I’m going to take it. I’m going to take it and run! But before I do, a few moments I have loved over the past few days and weeks…a few spaces where all of the grace and generosity and blessing pile up, sit at my feet, smile and gently say, “You are loved. You are loved. You are loved.” Oooooooh, life is so full of beauty I can hardly stand it sometimes. And I mean that in a very good way 🙂
full. oh so full.
mm
