STILL, BECOMING
The question is who
I can’t help you.
Who am I to help you with how to live a better life? I’m a nobody. I had my shot and chose to live quietly and privately, taking care of the kids, cleaning, kind of cooking, some self loathing here and there, and I still question all of my life choices every now and then. But I’m all right. It’s a full life. One day I’ll believe it as much as I know it.
I can’t prescribe how you should live yours though. I know it takes a lot of deep work to leave behind those things holding you down, to find what you’re made for. That deep work is painful. I don’t recommend it. But if you can get through it, there’s beauty on the other side.
APRIL 14, 2022
Thinking small is not the same as humility.
Maybe motherhood is learned. Not since we became mothers, but since we were daughters.
Have you heard of the story of Job?
He suffers a great loss. He loses all of his family, all of his riches, and then finally falls very sick. His friends come to see him. And they can see that Job is in great pain.
Job then cries out to God. Wails. Calls out the injustice against him. Shakes his fist at the big guy — why would you let this happen? He’s yelling in honest anger.
He’s an idiot.
That’s what his friends think. They tell Job how great God is and how dare he talk to God like that.
It’s not what God wants to hear.
But do you know who God blesses in the end?
Job. God blesses Job.
It’s Summer’s birthday and we celebrated. Her dad sang her a song about how lovely she is. I took a video, because it feels like the kind of thing she’ll want to look back on.
August was happy too, eyes wide and watching us, taking it all in.
Later that night we got ready for bed, both kids sat down with me to read. I was washed over by satisfaction.
What if my whole day is aimed at ensuring we have an unrushed, overflowing, bedtime routine? Would that be a fulfilling life?
The curious thing about life is, you only get to live it once.
I wonder if this is the last year for Bluish.
JULY 12, 2023
God, please help me be honest.
Show me who I am and what I was made for. Remind me, you’re not simple minded.
I tiptoed out of their bedroom, thinking I would drop by the studio to finish up something late that night. Before I could leave, the kids called out to kiss me again. They wanted to hug and play some more. I told them no, and the little one started to cry. I went back and picked him up, carried him, kissed him, and then tickled the older one, making her laugh. A moment later, they whispered to each other and then announced, “you may go after you kiss us on the lippies!”
Lippies.
Is this what joy feels like?