I’m rarely at a loss for words. Just isn’t me. But here I am struggling to find words that are appropriate. How do I find the words to reflect both a joy and a heaviness that have characterized this week? How do I express the experience of being inspired while feeling totally inadequate?
It is tempting to be silent about this until I’ve battled it out and “fixed it.” But is that right? Is that hiding? Is that being phony?
I want to be heard. How can I claim to feel unheard if I don’t express myself?
It is a battle to be a working wife and mom. I have such a great job that it is a shame to want something different. I work for a ministry I believe in. I work for a great place that glorifies God. My job is to provide the resources that allow the ministry to function for God. He has not released me from this job yet. I must follow His call and remain. But . . .
Why does my heart long for home. Longs to keep house, plan meals, spring cleaning, planning a garden, building a structure for chickens, getting goats and milking them. Making my boys the main focus of my time sounds so appealing.
Instead they are being squeezed between the cracks of time my job leaves for them. Grocery shopping consumes a day, and I rush home with a car full of food, but nothing to serve for dinner because all my energy is gone. Another day is taken up staying in town for small group Bible Study in the evening – a second home, family to share life with, it is good. But it is more time away from home. Laundry, sweeping, mopping, catching up takes over Saturdays. Again exhaustion sets in, and I’m not there for the laughter, the inspiration, the dreaming and living.
All the while I’m learning of recognizing the joys God provides in all situations and giving thanks for them. Anne Voskamp through her book one thousand gifts is inspiring me to see the little glimpses of beauty and joy and gifts from God that are in all circumstances – the sun on the mountains as we drive home from work at the end of the day; the extra snuggle from my husband in the morning before I have to get out of bed; the bald eagle always in the cottonwood tree in the morning as we rush to school. These are the bits of joy that warm my heart and remind me to be thankful. They are indeed gifts from God.
Somehow I must live with an unfulfilled longing while remembering there is so much to be thankful for. That balance I have not mastered yet. And sometimes the swinging back and forth between thankful and longing and thankful and longing is exhausting.