I feel a bit shell-shocked, really.
You whole life flips over, into brand new territory, and yet, everything is the same.
Or is it?
I’m breathing easier. My heart is lighter.
I’m still pretty tired when the day comes to a close.
The laundry still spins endlessly, flip flop, in washer.
The yelling and screaming grates on my nerves, making my hair stand on end.
Oh for quiet and kindness!
But yet there are moments like this:
The light is amazing here. And the kids are thriving, all noise aside.
They’ve run the barn, stem to stern. They’ve run the fields, gamboling about like lambs.
Happy moments dwell here.
I myself am struggling a bit. What do you do when the whole wide way opens before you, free as a bird?
You know that you don’t want to return to the old ways that served so ill, so what to do now?
Now that the boxes have been put away, the favorite books put in their place, the schooling materials out, the couches comfy, I find myself marking out new and yet quietly familiar paths.
I am hoping, above all else, that I have learned my hard lessons well, and the fruit will show in its’ time.
LORD, you have assigned me my portion and my cup;
you have made my lot secure.
The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places;
surely I have a delightful inheritance. (Psalm 16:5-6)