for these coming days there's a song: when you want a glimpse of the end from the beginning.
6 months ago today, my wonder-girl made me a mama!
but they don’t quite tell you that nothing could ever prepare you for mamahood. for parenting. that your heart will now live outside your chest, busted everyday, bent everyday, pruned everyday. they don’t really tell you that there will be long days when you’ll be unkind to yourself, unforgiving of yourself as you keep grasping for an eluding perfection. that you’ll sometimes be bitter because nothing goes as expected and God keeps bending you out of shape, gracefully breaking you, molding you into shape and using your own child to raise you. to teach you that truly your life is not your own.
and mamahood for me in 2017 meant many overwhelming nights and days. and more change couldn’t wait – so we were 'separated' by Mr. Steady’s work and shaken by the uncertainties that came with it. and during this season you find that you really need to become more intentional about your marriage and relationships and you must always renew your mind, forgive your weaknesses and receive Grace. because you can be carrying around a lot of clutter and bitterness that clogs your heart from forgiveness, grace and His perfect love. but God waits patiently, arms outstretched, never withdrawing Grace. and His perfect love casts out fear – and your bold in the face of fear casts out perfectionism. and that’s mamahood – carrying on everyday, showing up everyday, bringing your whole self each day, pushing expectations and perfectionism to the side, making room for progress and receiving peace in the pace of things and joy for the journey.
and just being here, right here present and living slow, knowing that these passing days are the destination, my destination – my baby girl’s toothless smile is a right-here heavenly destination, Mr. Steady’s kiss and his everyday steady is my right-here destination. that there’s nothing better to reach for than to live in these moments. right here. now.
and I think we all feel it, that there’s a rhythm to this new year. that these coming days have a song. a praise song. a ring to it. that God is playing a beat this year and He’s reaching out His Hand to His daughters to join in this dance. and just like any dance we are learning, our steps may sometimes seem out of rhythm but no matter what – we stay in the song. we stay dancing. though we struggle to move to His beat, we forgive our feet and we stay in the song, because He’s a good Father who works out every ‘misstep’, together for good, His Glory – and a mighty great dance. and yes, though hard, it all gets better – you do learn the dance. you learn to dance without your head hanging low, looking down at your weary feet. without being overcome, overwhelmed and overshadowed by guilt or shame. but that even in the dark you find your feet. and hear this mama when she tells you – a shift happens: when you count the cost of what it’ll take to be the ‘ultimate you’, you become gentler with yourself. you crack open your heart to receive grace. you laugh at your own mess, at the spills, and the dark circles under your eyes. and then you wonder how, when – you could function on so little sleep, how you’re doing so much with so little. you keep going, breaking gracefully, you keep surrendering to the pruning and you keep living slow, growing slow. because any mama will tell you, the days are long and there are no ‘hurry-throughs’ here, just each sacred messy moment meant to be felt. deep. so, you slow. for more grace.
and when it’s all said and done, circumstances may remain but through the dance we come to know His song by heart. we learn His beat. we learn His voice. we know His Heart. we know Him by heart. we follow His call. and that place, those things He shows us that no one else may see – we do get there, emptied, filled up, poured out, refined, ready - when it’s all said and done.