Life. Stuff. Me. Mostly me.
It’s all those little things that get in the way of what I want. And what do I want? Most of the time I don’t really know. I’ve always been filled with too many thoughts that all race at once. Good ideas, good intentions that normally don’t come to fruition. Granted, some do. Some things I stick with and see through. Others fall by the wayside of being mother, wife, friend-titles I take seriously. A few fall to the wayside of laziness and for those I have no excuse.
Yesterday was one of those days where everything builds up and then you break. The anger, the frustration, the I-don’t-give-a-damns all tumble out of you in a sobbing mess. Much contributed to my dam breaking; to do lists that were too long but somehow got accomplished, except the things I wanted to do for me… Those things I want to do just for me are the ones that always get cut. There’s no blame, it’s just part of being an adult.
I poured myself into a sunken pile on my bed and I sobbed. As I reached to my bedside table for a tissue, my hand skimmed too low and hit a row of books nestled inside the table. I pulled one out, unsure what it was, where it even came from. I began to read and the book resonated within me. Words leapt from the pages and they touched my heart and warmed my soul which had grown as cold as my uncovered feet. I lay in my bed among soft pillows and I read. I could hear chaos ensuing in my kitchen. Children who weren’t listening to their father anymore than they had listened to me, but in my bed, with my door closed I stayed. I could hear dinner ending and bath time ensuing, but this book had a message I needed to hear.
I read through pages that turned into chapters, said a prayer of blessing for the person who had sent this book my way. It wasn’t needed when it arrived many months ago, but now, in my crumbled mess, it was vital for my sanity. By the time my boys were ready for goodnight kisses, the book had calmed me. I marked my place and sat it aside. I walked to my youngest son’s bedroom where I could hear him asking for mommy kisses. I nestled that little head in my hands and I covered him in kisses as he giggled, wrapping his little arms around my neck. I thought that this, this is what I live for. Not that part of the list that never gets accomplished. Not these things others expect me to do or all these avenues I feel I’m being pushed down. This is my happy, this is my purpose.
I tucked my son in and traveled to his brother’s room. More kisses, more hugs, more of my head resting on his chest a bit longer than usual as I said goodnight. I soaked up that little heartbeat, cherished that kiss and hug.
Later in the evening, when it was too late and I was too tired, I sank into the couch with still wet hair and I browsed through my Facebook feed. Not looking for or really at anything. But a video pulled me and I clicked it. Again, it was what I needed in that moment. To hear that we’re our own worst enemy. That we fight ourselves, deny our potential and our purpose far too often. He was there…the book, the hugs, the video. All pieces to the puzzle I’ve tried to put together while begging Him to answer.
For a moment all was clear and I knew my path, my purpose, my light. However, doubt doesn’t fade immediately. The seeds, once planted, weed their way through our being. They’re intertwined with all that we want and those hopes and dreams can come to feel like a burden instead of wings to freedom. The book though…it reminds me. Be thankful for who you are NOW. Be happy where you are NOW. The rest will come, but only when we lay our doubts to rest and learn to be thankful, not critical. It will all come when we learn to be content and joyful.
I lay in bed this morning, ticking down that to do list. As if I had learned nothing at all yesterday. I could feel my head starting to ache, but as I reached for my glasses, I saw the book they were resting on and I stopped.
Be present…be here…now. And be thankful.
Present. Thankful. Now. Here.