Sunday, November 18, 2012

Soup: on beauty, church, and calling

I love what I do, I really do. Honestly, most days I haven't a doubt that this life of mothering and homeschooling is exactly what I am meant to do right now. But every once in a while, when I have been running too hard and I am worn a little thin and we are out of bread and milk- again- and the kids don't match and Jim is working a lot and throw in a little pms and a bad hair week . . . on that day all it takes is someone with a good haircut and a perfectly ironed unstained white blouse to send me directly to the employment ads on Craigslist.

I begin to dream about waking up and dressing in something other than a hoodie, and drinking coffee while chatting with other adults, while all day long at home the house is staying clean, and then actually getting a paycheck for my work, who knows maybe lunch out occasionally?

My craigslist hunt only lasts about two minutes. I know that home is where I am meant to be, and yet even within the parameters of being at home, there are so many questions about what is the best use of my time, and the constant feeling that something is being left undone or neglected.

In addition to being a mom and homeschooling I have two jobs; I write a weekly article for a newspaper and I try to do some professional writing/social media for my dad. Neither of these require a lot of time, except that I try to fit them into the margins of naptime which doesn't exist, early mornings, and a few hours on Saturdays, all of which is often interrupted or unpredictable. And I continue to blog occasionally which sometimes feels like one thing I could let go, and yet remains simply because I enjoy it.

Well, I don't know why I rambled on about all that just in introduction to Ann's post this week, but I was glad to read another woman wrestling with these questions- because I really want to get this right! Am I living well? Am I doing the thing I am called to do, with the best of my ability? Am I making any right decisions? It keeps me awake at night.

Truly it is the most important and the most difficult question to answer; What will you do with your one wild and precious life?

How to Not Miss Your Real Life Calling by Ann Voskamp
We want clarity — and God gives a call. We want a road map — and God gives a relationship. We want answers — and God gives His hand.

Daughters and Beauty
I really loved this post, I've started telling my daughters I'm beautiful
The thing is, my children are perfect. I am the grown up, so I'm supposed to show them everything about life. When they wake up in the morning, though, I stare at them and they're new. They teach me everything. They are babies and they teach me what it means to be a person. It's easy to see that they're beautiful.I am slow and I am tired. I am round and sagging. I am harried. I am sexless. I am getting older.I am beautiful. How can this be? How can any of this be true?

I don't want my girls to be children who are perfect and then, when they start to feel like women, they remember how I thought of myself as ugly and so they will be ugly too. 

And finally, I have always wanted to write a post about church, how I feel about our little church, why I get up early and make lumpy mashed potatoes and take the kids mismatched to church even if Jim is working, because I love it so, because I need this community, because our kids need it . . . But Sarah Bessey took the words right out of me, and with the eloquence that only Sarah Bessey can say . .. this is the post I only wish I could write about church . ..

In which I hope she remembers
So much of our lives in this world feels like exile, and we’re making a home in a faraway land, and so every time I get to be with my people (because the people who love God, these are my people), it’s a lush oasis in the desert, a refill, a taste of living water, a glimpse of Jesus with skin on.

And one more . .. Yes, this is exactly how I feel about Sunday Nights by Ruth at There is No Such Thing as a Godforsaken Town
But it seems that there's more to it than that, a bittersweetness that I feel even when I'm on vacation, that after-Sunday-night-church wistfulness.  As though I could have squeezed more out of the weekend than I did, and now the opportunity is gone for another week. . ..  "fast falls the eventide; the darkness deepens, Lord, with me abide." 

wishing you a peaceful Sunday night. ..

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