I meant to write this post yesterday because it was going to really kill my personality to not have written even ONE post all of May. I went to log into my account and I could not remember my log in and password---that's how bad I've fallen off the blogging wagon. I'm going to make this post appear written on May 31, because technically I wrote it in my mind yesterday, but until my web designer kindly reminded me today I was just able to log back in.
I don't really write much anymore for two reasons.
One, I find it hard to find the time. Two, I don't feel like I have anything to say.
Lately---Potty training, mobile nursing infant, finishing up one homeschool year and prepping for the next, exercising, adjusting schedules, possible baby blues, and cleaning for what feels like every moment of my day. Add in all the rest of the regulars and my day is full with little time left for personal endeavors. I do not think this is ideal, but it is what it is for now.
I would probably abandon this blog altogether if it was not for a super tiny voice reminding me that there's a slight possibility God's called me to write. My heart is to encourage other woman, namely in this season in my life---mothers. Although I find this ironic, as I do not feel I have much to offer. After all, there are plenty of other bloggers out there you can find just about any answer to any question you have. Why be redundant?
It is this incredibly weighted resistance to me writing that makes me curious. Why is the enemy trying so hard to keep my fingers from the keys? [if that is what it is]
Truth be told, I'm not sure how transparent you should be in blogging. Enough to be real and help others, but not so much everyone in the world is in your business when really only a handful of people should be. I've recently written many many posts in my mind, but wasn't sure how well they would translate to print.
If saying here how I feel or how I've been doing helps someone, I suppose it's worth it.
My life is beautiful and I really have no room to complain, but I find myself lately being pretty overwhelmed, angry and ungrateful. Jesus, sunshine, Vitamin D, exercise, sleep [well I could use more of that!] and comfort from my husband doesn't seem to completely cure it either. I've never had baby blues before, and I'm not even sure if having an 8 month old qualifies for that, but either way--- I just want to wake up and be thankful. Smile. Laugh. Be light-hearted. Have fun. Enjoy.
I don't want to be Martha. I want to be Mary.
I don't want to fuss and clean, and stress and yell, and miss the moments I'll never get back from today. More than ever I feel like I don't have much to say here, but here I am. Walking on this journey too. It's not as beautiful as Instagram makes it. Ha. It has a child who has accidents in their pants, a nursing baby who cluster feeds at night, a child who probably needs more time with me, a child who is still being trained to do things the first time their asked even if it requires every hair on my head turn grey first and me, who, when it comes down to it has a pretty selfish attitude.
"He hears my voice...He bends down to listen...[He's] kind, good, protects.."