It seems I'm in a dry spell of sorts, spiritually and emotionally speaking. There are lots explanations, really. Like maybe the fact that lately I get to church about once a month because of sick kids or Tori's nap schedule or other life complications. When I was pregnant with Tori, I totally expected that and was dreading it. But then the first 6 months went so well that I hardly missed a week of church and could tote our sweet sleeping baby wherever I wanted.
Somehow during that honeymoon stage I fooled myself into thinking we were going to breeze right through and somehow not deal with the reality of an infant's schedule. Guess not, because reality seems to have set in.
This dry spell also could be the byproduct of major cabin fever. A few weeks back, between snow days, a driveway drifted over with snow, and sick kids, I was literally in this house for 188 1/2 out of 192 hours. 188 1/2 hours breathing the same air, doing the same tasks over and over, rarely speaking to another adult...all the time with at least one, and often four children needing your attention...yikes!
Or maybe this Sahara-like feeling could have overtaken my heart because, since Christmas, I've only been doing my Beth Moore study--as interesting and motivating as it is--about once every other day. Before Christmas I was praying the Divine Offices faithfully 3 times a day and feeling like I was connecting pretty well with the Lord through prayer. Right now I'm just not being intentional about getting fed the same way.
Then this past weekend I tried to talk through it with Steve. How I'm struggling to embrace this season of raising an infant and being "just the mom" again without being swallowed up in it. How I don't feel like I have anything to talk about but baby stuff, and how I can't seem to find any focus outside of home when I am home 99% of the time.
Somehow as I shared my thoughts, Steve heard me saying that taking care of our kids runs counter to being who I want to be. Aaagh! That totally isn't what I was saying! So not only am I stranded on an emotional desert island, but I also can't communicate effectively with the one person I'm stranded with. Sigh. I was trying to explain how I'm trying to figure out how to fully engage in this season... to allow it to be "enough" to care for the kids and our family, while at the same time feeling like I'm becoming more fully me. Right now I don't feel like I'm succeeding at either one of those things.
That probably sounds like complaining. I hope not. But maybe it is; at this point I don't even know. But I'm wondering why I feel powerless to find relief in this dry season. I could tell it was coming, and I'm feeling hyper aware of being in it. I know the "right" things to do to get out of it, but I know they won't work because I've learned that it really isn't up to me to find the solution, so much as to trust that this desert field trip is just a stop on the journey.
So, here I sit. In the desert. Waiting for a little rain shower. Just a few drops would do. Or maybe even a drifting rain cloud over head to cast just a little shade on the scorching sand. I guess I'll have to keep my focus turned upward to watch for incoming relief.
