[ There’s nothing quite as humbling as a blank page and nothing to say. I’ve always been in awe of people who write on a schedule because like… how do you have something interesting to say on demand? I am not a DVR or fancy streaming service- I’m old school cable. You turn it on and you get what you get: boring, enthralling, mildly entertaining or utterly insane. Suprise! But in an effort to keep up good habits, I open up a blank page and share what’s currently streaming. So here it goes]
My current season has me contemplating the duality of overwhelm and boredom that is the season of raising young children. It’s been a crazy summer, and I often feel more the white-knuckled passenger than driver of this crazy train. The twins are currently potty training. We got a new puppy in June, so why wouldn’t they decide to boycott diapers?
I’ll be honest, yall, there’s so much pee in my house right now. And the occasional other unmentionable. And an older dog with digestive issues… Body fluids, so many body fluids, everywhere.
And you know what that means, right? Say it with me, fellow moms:
Add to the current “a-potty-colypse”happening, the fact that there was VBS all last week, we’ve had revolving door of company and summer colds, yet another low-key house renovation, a job promotion for my husband that involved more hours (pause: yay Chris! We’re so proud of you!), a stupid back injury probably caused by picking up 30lb babies on and off potty stools…
It’s all kind of a lot, as my dear friend and I text back and forth on the daily in this season.
But yet.
I keep finding myself pausing. Wondering what God would have for me this season, and surprisingly, I think the answer is simply – joy.
A smile on my face when a baby voice tells me how he was “freekin out” stuck on top of the Little Tike car before Mama came to save him.
The goblin-like cackle that bubbles up from my throat when finding more coffee in the mug left long-abandoned to the microwave.
The squeal of utter delight when a child finally drops something-that-shall-not-be-named in the toilet.
The satisfaction of an organized sock drawer and a finally-clean sink. The feel of warm, soft towels in my arms to be folded.
Hitting a new note in choir because apparently cardio is good for something other than losing your will to live.
The beautiful sheen of my daughter’s thick curls in my hands as I battle them into bedtime braids.
The stolen sweetness of my husband’s arms around me in the morning, feeling him laughing against my back at the ruckus of voices nextdoor, demanding to be freed from their nighttime captivity
The sigh of relief as the hot water hits the tight muscles and beautiful music that brings tears to my eyes.
They all say it goes by too fast, and that might be true. But I’m shocked how often the days seem to drag. And how often I find myself waiting for the next season, and forgetting to smile in the today.
So I think God is teaching me that joy, in this season, isn’t something I stumble upon. It’s something I choose to notice, search out, every day, with His help and lots of prayer. And the occasional SOS call to my mother, because like, I’m human.
I’m starting to be concerned about how much joy I’ve probably missed in these last few years by waiting for it to find me instead of searching it out. How sad. And yet, I’m grateful to realize that the God in heaven loves me so much, fallen and helpless as I find myself, to make so much readily available for the finding.
So that’s what’s streaming tonight. Reflecting on the crazy while trying to remember to pause and find the joy. Soaking in the sunshine and gratitude, and learning to enjoy the smell of all purpose cleaner.
Happy Summer, yall 😂💙 I pray your own search for joy is as fruitful as mine. Though maybe with a dash less of the gross stuff. 🤪
Much love,
Kelsey
Miracles Enough 