DSC_0098My life is looking different.  It doesn’t fit into anything anyone else wants for me or thinks it should be like.

My life is yearning for things that I haven’t made happen.  There is a huge landslide coming and everywhere I turn people are interrogating me about it, asking me why I don’t just make it stop, hang a picture over it, and keep going.  Can you really put the burden of stopping a landslide on one person’s shoulders?  I’m a spiritual person who loves God and prays all day long.  And still, God hasn’t given me the power to stop a landslide.

Pain is such a constant.  It sprints along side me when I get up in the morning and when I lay down at night.  It gets in my face and overwhelms me sometimes.  So why have we as a culture adopted the idea that we need to put pictures everywhere that show how great and tidy and organized and pretty and up to date our lives are?

Oh, and then there is this motherhood life.  The life where I wonder why I ever thought I could do it well and how huge bringing a life (or eight) to this earth is and how tender I feel about the judgement I get surrounding that.  How badly I wish my children knew what I intended for their lives and that my love for them is true even though they hate me sometimes for having boundaries and saying no.  It’s hard to be the stable, constant, laundry-washing, daily meal cooking, teaching, taxi-driving, diaper changing, sidelines cheering mother and to be a real person at the same time.  Life wants me to be a machine and no matter how many years I’ve spent acting like a machine I’m still not one and I never will be.


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