The Shift

Sometimes having not written in a while makes it even harder to know where to start. This time, even more so. I've been bumping into the question of what exactly this blog is to be about. Is it just a chronicle for our family? A place to put photos and memories so I can look back and remember? Is it a way share with family and friends scattered all over what's going on in our life? Or is it meant to be something more? In mulling over the question, I feel prompted to make it the latter. The fact is, I enjoy writing. I love putting words to thoughts and ideas, to the stories and memories that depict a slice of the everyday. Just reporting on the big and exciting isn't really a complete picture. Only showing the fun, the good, doesn't make the chronicle very true, although it might be easier. I'm beginning to see the value in using what I believe to be a God-given gift: the love of writing, to process the good and the bad, the fun things and the hard things and the character growth that comes from those hard things. Who knows, in doing so, I might provide some encouragement to someone somewhere, and even if not, I'm the blessed one since I'll have a deeper understanding of the ways the journey, the sojourning, shapes me and the people I love.

All that to say, it's time to dig deeper, to be more vulnerable, and see what God brings of it.

The reason it's been hard to share even the fun things we've done in the past few months, is that there's been a shadow. I miscarried just before Thanksgiving, and the loss shook me. All the dreams and plans nurtured in my mind and heart those ten weeks that my body nurtured a little life had to be mourned and pieced together into something that made some kind of sense. There's something to be said for the glorious thing that it is to host new life in your own body. Then to experience death instead, and host that very death inside you, is strange and in a way unnatural feeling. Don't get me wrong, from the very first I heard that this little life wasn't meant to live, God gave a sense of hope, and I clung to that. But the ache for those dreams, the ups and downs of raging hormones, the loss of something so loved and hoped for, had to be felt, grieved.

Surprisingly, as God led me ever so gently through healing, He uncovered a truth and I believe it will be the good He brings from this bad season. True to form, He works all things together for good. Even this. I knew that to be true, in my head, logically. But now I've seen it, experienced it, and know it to be true in my life, my soul, my heart. What I came to see was that I had come to see my direction in life, my purpose, my identity, as a mom. Yes, I'm still a mother to darling Eddie, every minute of every day. But now I see a difference between having the role and responsibility of being a mother and having motherhood be my reason for living. It's subtle. So much of what I do and who I'm learning to be is wrapped up in my mothering role, so naturally I began to see my life through that lens. It's not a bad thing in and of itself. But, you see, I believe my real reason for living is to bring glory to my Master. In this season, much of how I do that is by becoming the mom He wants me to be, becoming more like Him through the refining process of motherhood, but once it shifted to being my primary purpose, the direction of my life, my identity became wrapped up in it. Jesus is meant to be my Source. I am loved by Him, therefore I'm a mom. I love Him, therefore I want to be the best mother I can be by His grace.

Now I find myself trying to figure out what that looks like practically. It's a wonderful thing for a Christian to say, "My identity is in Christ." It's a much harder thing to actually live. One thing I know for sure, a major part of shifting my purpose and direction in life is taking time to center. Being still and seeking God in prayer and digging into His Words. I'm far from having mastered it, but I can say now, truly, I'm thankful for something hard like miscarriage. I surely hope I don't have to repeat that experience, but the suffering and reaching for God to make sense of it all led to what I hope will make me a better mom. Because I know, I am sure, I will be a better mother when I approach every moment from a place of security in my Jesus' love for me. Let it be so!