Feeling How to Stand
Oh yeah. A blog. How to use this thing?
In my large, pregnant waddling, in the apartment living and water guzzling, in the running from piano to tennis, from occupational therapy back home for home school, I stepped way far away from even checking my email and from every inclination toward twitter.
My identity is is being whittled, like my body – two long infant feet poking through one at a time. I can grab his little knee and move it up and down. I’m changing.
I had come to a place that I wanted to leave these apartments, so much that I considered packing boxes and having them sitting outside when Seth got home from work. I wanted to scream, “Take me away! Anywhere! I don’t care!” One part of me was choking on community and on my own piled up space. I think they call it “burn out.”
Another part of me had been quietly praying for crazy things like another year to home school after agreeing out loud with Seth’s decision to send our guy to public school. I was also praying that I would be a more supportive wife, which led to my praying that I would somehow find contentment.
That’s a freaky thing to pray. I asked for contentment in an apartment with 4 children, who’ve obviously descended from a clan of vikings. We decided to stay here another year and to return to the Rock House after that with less debt and stiller hearts, and get this …
Seth decided it was best to let me study with our oldest for another year. I jumped right on it, and by the end of July, right before our little one is due, we’ll have completed 8 weeks of a 36 week school year. AND I HAVE LOVED almost EVERY SECOND OF IT! I’m not even sure half the time that he knows we’re doing school, and he’s clicked over to a new level of understanding that thrills me to be able to watch.
I’m still on my way to counting my 1000 gifts in the secret of a notebook. Gratitude literally gives me physical strength in a time I’ve never been more tired. I am now almost 37 weeks pregnant, which means that very soon, I’ll be the mother of 4 sons.
I hope to share more soon. I have stories. I have winners to announce to giveaways from long ago. I hope to stop ignoring this online world, but at the same time, I wish I could articulate the beauty, freedom, release of letting it go. I’m afraid that as soon as I articulate it, I’ll have grabbed it by the horns again.
There’s a mystery to balance, and it seems that only as my plate piles higher and as the weight of glory presses in (the dependence), only as I list out the gratitudes one by one, that I’m able to feel how to stand.