The house silent.
The quiet can be felt.
Where most Monday’s from 9-3 would feel like this, today is different.
Girls working, me left contemplating the days ahead.
Whispering prays for protection.
The challenges ahead unknown, but wasn’t that truth the same last Monday as it is today?
Forced to live in this moment, grace will grow.
There was a former work colleague who lived a life of faith.
Invitations extended to daily mass, philosophical debates about the eucharist and eternal life, all while sipping coffee at Clementine’s.
“So I should thank him for you and I meeting?” Matt spoke last night.
Instantly reminded of the role others played in leading us to this life lived here.
The connections that covered me in love and brought me a husband and three more beautiful girls.
In a world that teaches us to wear independence as a badge of honor we ignore the truth- it is only by walking with others that we are able to understand who we are called to be.
We left.
Packed our bags. Pulled out the drive. Drove south.
13 hours and one detour later we made it to our destination.
Now we spend these days soaking up the shore.
It may not make sense to many. Why we choose to leave behind holidays at home.
But you see, when these lives have been about the tug and pull of one house or another, special days can become a blur. By removing ourselves from what was, we have a chance to focus on what is.
Building this family not by glitter or gold, by the gift of our presence.
The husband captured the moment.
Wife contemplating months of mothering.
The waves, the metaphor for the back and forth of the season.
Just when she thought a course had been charted, a decision reached, a new question would wash ashore.
The weight of the world rested on those shoulders.
And then it was over.
And now she can’t quite remember why it was all so hard, in part because this season has welcomed a new hard.
The heavy is here and the waves aren’t retreating.
So she will once again stand at the edge. She will ponder the places he’s calling her to.
She will remember that the hard brings the happy.
And she will be grateful for this gift.
There was a midnight wake up call from a sick child, a husband away on a business trip and an eight year old in tears over the standardized testing taking place that morning. I was over the day before it had even begun.
A saint, my mother, arrived in the early hours to shepherd the six girls through their morning routine while I hopped in the car for a nearly three hour commute.
It was no wonder that fog filled my brain and I found myself on the road less traveled. Miscalculating my route meant no cell reception for a great portion of the drive rendering it impossible to join a 9am conference call. I had no choice but to watch the sunrise over the rolling hills.
I pondered the hard parts;
this journey of motherhood and career.
Feeling called to both I wondered why it could be so impossible at times.
And in that moment I came to realize that I will forever live in this space of in between.
There is no magic fix, no way to Maria Kondo my way into balance;
always there will be something off kilter.
The imbalance does not make me broken, it makes me real.
So I will feel sad that I miss the tooth falling out and ecstatic when a project I shepherd moves forward. I will hold the hurts and the happy all in one place.
There is beauty in the rising sun. This is where I want to be.
The leaving is hard to explain.
Fulfilling work, beautiful friendships and things still left to learn
but, the longing persisted. I listened and left.
After a decade, leaving behind a “dream job”, because it wasn’t where he was calling me to be.
People were perplexed by the choice.
Four months later I find myself most Tuesday and some Friday morning’s, on an almost three hour road trip through Ohio’s heartland.
At 5:00 a.m., while children slumber and the rest of the world sips their Starbucks, I am alone on winding, country roads.
The years of early morning runs have prepared me for this meditation.
It’s nothing more than mental when one small town turns into another small town and the sun has yet to rise.
I dodge deer, map out the day ahead and daydream about beach vacations with my beautiful girls and their handsome papa.
Just about the time I’m ready for the morning commute to be over, I see the fog in the valley and make the final turn up the hill and I’m onto campus.
Waiting for me there will be meetings and memos.
The day will be long.
The learning curve steep.
And when dusk begins to settle over that little hilltop, I will hop back in the car and make the journey home.
I will be greeted by smiling girls and a sense of satisfaction knowing that for now this is where he is calling me to be.
A Joyful Life 