Behind the Garden Walls
Jan. 20, 2008
Reflecting on a Year of Blessing
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I have a migraine. The kids have been sick for a few weeks, the strain of extra activities around Christmas time has taken its toll. Even though I had tried to cut back, no cards, no presents for extended family, no professional photos, all the things I used to do. I even skipped wrapping presents. The house is at its worst. A late Christmas letter straggles in, with a note that has been sent by one who only knows my life through my blogs. "You are so organized." My migraine pounds me. Liar. Liar. Why do I make my blogs so upbeat? Why? I know the culprit, the schedule, the schedule that I tried to fit onto the family like a shoe onto the wrong foot. Everybody read it and thought that was the way it is. But it isn't. My blogs are the only pristine place in my life, the only place I (seemingly) control. Nothing happens to them while I am gone. No toys strewn there, no dust settling, no coffee spilled. I want to keep them beautiful. Why shouldn't I? But not at cost of truth. This has been a hard year, a one foot in front of the other kind of year. All the changes are good, blessings abound, but even good in this fallen world comes with many pitfalls and challenges, and my weakness and inability and sin have never been more apparent to me. But I keep putting one foot in front of the other, and hope that things will grow easier. Sometimes I take a few steps without thinking about it, and grow a bit giddy about it, and the glass is all half full. The babies had their birthday. One year passed us, and we move on. Am I getting more energy? Is less time spent nursing going to help? Is my soul waking up? I clean the master bedroom and organize it for the first time since the move. The whole mood of the room changes. It smells good, faintly of lavender where I have spritzed the pillows, and I even wax the headboard til it shines. I haven't done that since we were newlyweds. The kids' rooms are cleaned, and then the toy area in the basement. The house seems almost like humans live here now. I pick a chapter from James for us to read daily, to memorize, like we used to when there were only three. I am building a new schedule, slowly, a schedule not to fit my dreams but to fit the family. I take a breath. Perhaps...perhaps I will walk, perhaps we will walk together, perhaps we will dance. Perhaps it is too soon to tell. But I will keep putting one foot in front of the other, and we will see. It's all about sowing in tears, and reaping in joy. In patience. Hope in what we cannot see. |
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Posted by James Jan. 29, 2008 - Untitled Comment
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