Everyday Life: Enough

It's not that I don't have enough hours in the day to cross off everything on the to-do list as a part-time working mom; it actually seems that most weeks, I have just enough time to accomplish the to-do list on a daily basis.

{In all honesty, this is especially true now that I have a lovely woman who comes to help me with the house every few weeks.}

For the most part, we seem to have found a groove that allows us to sanely maintain family life and inner lives in combination with my new job at church, John's work, our volunteer schedules, writing, Curves, real food meal preparations, laundry and G's everyday school.

But.

There are these dreams constantly swirling around in my head, deep pools of promising blue I love and long to swim around in during moments of free space or while we're driving, all peacefully staring out across the painted autumn landscape.

A homeschooling family that learns authentically all day, year round without the boys ever attending a physical school.  

A small, authentic farming family who raises animals and food the right way on a wide-open, sprawling prairie where other families are welcomed stretch their legs and learn about health, nutrition, real food and the intersection of the three.  

A novelist. 

A photographer who knows intimately how to use her camera. 

A retreat host with enough outdoor space and bedrooms and bathrooms for creative souls and seeking hearts to enjoy and soak in inspiration. 

It's these moments of daydream escape that I realize hours aren't the confines; rather, there simply aren't enough lifetimes to be everything I long to be.


It's then, too, that I must take a step back from the trees to see the forest.

And I give thanks for the abundance and blessing of a life with which I've already been blessed

and in which I'm already in the deeply vibrant and beautiful blues of swimming.

Bigger Picture Moments: What Only God Can Do

It begins quietly and simply.

A few-sentence email enters my inbox asking if I can attend a meeting at our church regarding social media.

Though I've long been thinking our church has needed a social media presence and I'd love to help, I doubt I can make the meeting; John is in Europe that week, and babysitters are hard to come by mid day in the mid week -- like raindrops in drought.

But there is an easy sprinkle from a small little cloud, and I'm able to attend the meeting despite all of what normally works against such possibilities; I leave the meeting, hope rising in my heart at the response of our leaders who deem social media important to implement at our church. But when I leave the meeting, though my mind is spinning and racing with ideas, I return to life as normal and tuck them away. I'm at capacity, and I can't volunteer time to any kind of project beyond what I'm already doing without something having to give.

****

Month's later, there's been no resume submitted but there has been a meeting of the minds, and there has been the Spirit of God heavy in conversations and lastly there has been a perfectly tailored job description and offer extended to me to join the church staff as the social media coordinator.

An opportunity to serve in a way I'd only thought was a dream {me? small-town girl from the middle of nowhere evolved punk-rock mistress turned cynical journalist thrown a life jacket of grace me?}.

An opportunity to reach into people's everyday lives and help them know better the God who loves and created them, help them know better the community of God within a church we've been extremely vested.

And the fine details, lined up like just right, stars in a constellation:

Working only 15 hours per week.

Doing what I've long loved, while working out of my top five strengths from my home most of the time, nonetheless.

Confirmation from daily wanderings in the Word and conversations with those who shepherd my heart.

All of this after we decide to listen to the unexplained stirrings of our heart to put our Curves up for sale ... and then meet with extremely interested perspective buyers within two weeks of our letter of intentions saying we are looking to sell.

All of this amid one of our closest family friends, who lives within minutes of the church, sharing that she'd love to babysit for our boys one day a week during the weekly staff meeting {more raindrops ...}.

All of this folded up into a beautiful package at the heels of years spent investing time and effort and thought and heart and soul into the sharing of our story, my story, here at this blog, of investments made in virtual community and social media.

Some might call it serendipity or awesome coincidence, but I know it to be more; I know it to be grace revealed, blessing given, opportunity shared.

This story, it blows my mind.

This story, it's so different from the ones I've written in the past.

Because this time, I'm telling a story of which I'm not the one striving to write

One of which I've had only a very small, responsive hand.

This time

I feel like I'm telling the story of something truly only God can do.

During the next few weeks, I'm transitioning into my new position at church all while ensuring that I'm spending time with my family and taking care of all the Curves details, so please be patient with my sparser posting and interactions. I'm so excited to share how God moved my heart into this place, as it didn't come quite as thoughtlessly as I would have expected such a thing with such worked out details to have come. Prayers are appreciated, as is any encouragement during this extremely important transition month.


Each Thursday we come together to share the harvest of intentional living through sharing a piece of life gleaned: a picture, words, creation or list; just come to the table with the beauty in the simple moments of the week. Link up your gleaned moment this week at Sarah's!

Link your moment at Sarah's this week!

Five-Minute Friday: Beyond

Long chased and loved there's this dream I've carried around in the pocketbook of my heart, all folded up and tucked gently away like a love note or a picture of a beloved.

And every once in a while I've been known to pull it out in the midst of laundry and lunches and love and read it over and over again 

until I can see it alive and vibrant with breath in its lungs and soul sparkling in its eyes -- me pressing feet onto untred paths, me pressing black ink into white paper, writing their hearts, their lives into words that wander into other hearts, take a seat at the table and linger long after dinner guests normally stay 


-- invited and enjoyed --

There are long days filled to the brim with laundry, lunches and love and my heart sings for the reality I love and the boys and the husband and the life that's unfolded. 


I may not be a journalist walking tepid paths telling stories of the brow-beaten souls on faraway soil


but I've been given long-term assignment from the Editor here in this lush and hot and incredible jungle of motherhood tattooing these stories, our story onto a small screen, into a small space.

And you. You come here to share life and share words and share stories.

And it's beyond what I've imagined, what I've long dreamed and carried for so many years.