There are days when I can totally picture myself having another child. (In the not-so-near future, of cooooourse.) Then there are the other days in which I am thrilled to have my body (mostly) back to myself and I have a hard time picturing the pregnancy/labor fiasco all over again.
My husband is not ready to think about such things right this second… you know, because he is sane and possesses all of his faculties and whatnot.
I just really feel more and more confident that I was made for this. Not because I am good at it (guffaw!), but because it feels deeply right that I should be laying down my life in this way for this season. It’s like a gut instinct that I am right where I am meant to be… in my home, with these boys.
I do have those moments. But they are becoming fewer and farther between. Because I no longer feel the need to chase anything “greater”. What I am doing in my home with these boys IS great! How could I have ever believed that this was…not enough? That I needed to contribute more and be more and do more in order to be… seen? Valued? Worthwhile?
It is a miracle that those jungle drums have ceased pounding through all of my days. They were driving me to a breaking point. I used to wake to them every morning and fight my way back to sleep through them at night.
I was made for this. It may not be easy and my life may not be featured on the cover of any glam magazine anytime soon… heck, I live in Oklahoma in a small brick house on a quiet little street… but what my life may be lacking in flash & pizazz, it more than makes up for in richness and depth. This simple life has deep churning oceans of eternal worth.