I can come up with wonderful ideas for my blog and tell myself that I will write it when I get the chance. I open up my blog, sign in, and am ready to type but the ideas are gone. I brood over the empty page for a little while, ruminating over possible blog-worthy topics. I give up and then go to facebook. What is that about? I think that I second-guess the topic, or think about my usual audience and how it will be interpreted (or misinterpreted) by them. I have a similar experience when I have some valuable free time and am unmotivated or too tired to do all the things that I dream of doing around here.
I went out with David for his birthday on Friday night. I was looking forward to it all week. We left the baby with babysitters we trusted and were off to a nice dinner. I thought that I was going to feel free, unburdened, and exhilarated by this unfamiliar lightness. Instead, I felt kind of empty and tired. I enjoyed David's company and the food (Bonefish) but didn't feel the excitement that I thought I would. I suppose I missed the baby but I think I really missed the purpose the baby gave me. However, I find that when I am with the baby, I miss being creative and productive. I also realized recently that even though pouring myself into the baby is appropriate and good, it gives me little satisfaction at the end of the day. I can't show David as he walks in the door at the end of the day all that I've accomplished. All I can do is say, "The baby is alive, dressed, fed, and relatively happy." I am investing in a life where the fruit of my labor cannot be measured. All I really want to do now is sew some curtains, put stuff on the walls, redecorate my kitchen, finish projects. It does help to look back or think back to the first couple of months with the baby and how tiny he was. He is surely growing and I have been fortunate enough to be part of that process. I also imagine that from the Lord's perspective, I have been growing too. He certainly is more patient with the fruit that I slowly bear with the outpouring of His love and life. He sees to it that I die to self daily. I won't say that being a mother doesn't have its wonderful moments because it definitely does. But I can't deny how much I have had to "perish every fond ambition". All in all, my life is blessed. I know that. I just don't think I have ever had to work this hard before.
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