09 February 2012

Jumbled Thoughts on This Tightrope Life

Finally, a spare moment to write, and she starts talking over the monitor. I wonder if she'll last until I can marshall some order to these words, and if it's fair to ask her to.


I'm tempted to feel pushed to the margins of my own life, sometimes, like the things that value most to me get the least time right now, because of kids and teaching and being a wife.* Tempted, I say, because this IS my life. The diapering-feeding-sweeping-washing-reading out loud-cleaning spit-up off the sofa again-all of it. It's not glorious and it doesn't make for feeling significant or important, but it's my life.

It's the life I chose and the life I was given. Wishes, here, have become horses, and so beggars must ride, whether that means holding on for a pell-mell run over rough terrain or trying not to fall asleep after hours in the saddle when everything looks the same.


There's a balance, I know. My heart matters, even when there are a million things that legitimately need to be done before I do the things that nurture it the most. Sometimes, though, it's not a matter of not leaving room for self-care, but of looking up from the tasks that must be done to achieve basic living and realizing it's time for bed.

Jesus calls us to give up our selves, but to give up a self, you must have a self in the first place. To give myself to the tasks Jesus has called me to, I must know what the other things are, too. I must know the things that are for later, for when the kids are older, for a time when I'm not up at night feeding the baby and teaching two classes on top of (still) getting used to being a mother of two.


There's enough time in a day for everything I'm legitimately called to. I don't believe God calls us to more than will fit into our days, if we're faithful to spend our time well. That includes rest, by the way. And so I trust him with my heart, trust that he'll make time for me when I don't see a way.


She's still talking, by the way, happy as a little bird. I'll get her, now, and know that this time was a gift straight from his heart to mine

* There should be a word for that. Wife-ing? Maybe there is one and I don't know what it is. That's entirely possible.


The Gyrovague said...


I think of the "three chord strand" in Ecclesiastes. When you rope is pulled tight, Dave's is wrapped around and woven in with yours. The third being the life of Christ.

A Three chord strand is stronger and goes further. It is also wider and you have to conform your foot to walk that rope.

I am poor with metaphor when writing, better in person. But what I am saying is your chord might be a little tight, but you have support... and if that Chord gets a little to tight you know who to call. We love the babies... deeply truly and madly soo...

Heather said...

This is why I think husbandry is a term that was misappropriated. We could use it and wifedry here.

christianne said...

I've been thinking so much these days about the reality of motherhood in so many lives of people I know. It has been challenging me to ask the question, "What does the self look like in this place? What is formation here?" I am thankful God has given me many friends walking through this special season in order to mature and broaden my scope of understanding.

Tammy said...

Hey Sarah. I responded to your comment. No worries at all girl. Not even one. You have your hands full. I can only imagine. Love to you.