Wednesday, March 4, 2015
This space has lain quiet for quite some time. Not for lack of want. I couldn't even tell you how many drafts sit unfinished, their inspiration and momentum interrupted by a baby's cry, a little boy's requests for a fellow superhero playmate, a tickle monster, a snack..., or the shadow of guilt that creeps up on me that the paint needs touching up, that our belongings need packed, or at the very least that another load of laundry is waiting to be washed. Perhaps this post too will suffer the same fate. This life, this is a juggling trick, a hurricane, a dance.
I suppose that can be said for all of life, each phase having it's own step, it's own rhythm. At some point I know that Jon and I will find ourselves embraced in a graceful waltz and there are some days that the slow, peaceful, structured dance cannot come soon enough. But even at moments when I long for life to slow down, I know that when that day arrives we will look back so fondly on this time. We will miss this wild West Coast Swing with arms and legs wildly flying in every direction, and at that moment, what I wouldn't give to be back here just one more time.
So, I take a deep breath and try to slow my own mind, calm my own soul. And we sit here and wait on the cusp of our next adventure. Within these next two weeks we will know what our future holds, or at least where our future holds. And so I wait, and I breathe, and I pray. Not for a specific place or program, but for peace. I pray for peace in my soul, in Jon's soul, peace for this family, and peace for our loved ones. I pray that we allow ourselves to trust in God's plan, embrace this next phase, wherever it may be.
This wild swing we're dancing can be exhausting physically and emotionally, taxing our energy banks and all too often sapping our last ounce of patience. But sometimes, during those quieter moments when I am able to take a step back from the chaos, I can see what a beautiful dance it truly is.