Friday, October 31, 2014

Day Thirty-One: Reality

It rained today (which made me happy), and we had a handful of trick-or-treaters stop by while I was putting the twins in bed and we were diligently exposing our children to the classic TV show, Man v. Food, during Pizza, Smoothie, and a Movie night. (Calling it SPAM never caught on unfortunately.)

It's the last day of October, the last day of daily writing, the last day of thinking purposefully about this weird in between space I'm in right now. Somehow I really think I had tricked myself into believing there would be this massive transformation and the end of October would include a glittery denouement of awesome.

There's not.

Because when you're in the between, that's where you are, until you look around one day and discover suddenly that you're not any more and haven't been for a while. It sneaks up on you like that.

I want to tie it all together tonight, but I'm so tired that I can't even remember what all I've written this month. Although I'm pretty sure I remember at least one note about being tired. And something about bees. And I think I gave you guys a tour of the house.

Basically, I'm pretty sure I covered all the important stuff.

At the end of the day, what I've been focusing on these last few weeks has been the why behind it all.

Our family goes through another move, resettling, rerooting, rebuilding, all for fifteen months, and for what? So we can be together, as God and the Air Force move us around the country. And what a blessing to be together. I'm being honest here: I really love the being together part.

Our family trucks through months of sleeplessness and screaming babies and endless bottles of infant tylenol, and for what? So we can enjoy to the fullest the wonderful gift of two unexpected babies, with or without teeth, who have made our lives richer, if more sleep deprived.

Our family rearranges our schedule to include phonics and numbers and read a-louds and a screwed up cleaning schedule, and for what? So the Little Man can stay home with Tiny and the rest of us while still exercising his brain muscles.

These changes take time. And sometimes they are painful.

Really, transition is a lot like teething. It starts hurting long before you see anything happening in the baby's mouth. First there's the drooling and then the swelling and then maybe a few spots of red on the gum and then tiny pin-prick holes where the tooth might be coming through, and then one morning you wake up and there it is. But while it's happening, the innocent bystander (usually the parent) may have absolutely no idea why suddenly their baby is acting like a complete lunatic unless they pry open the baby's mouth and look in and even then it depends on how far the tooth has gotten…but you get the point.

Even in the teething (and the transition) there are moments when life is good and beautiful, and you have people who love you and good food to keep your stomach in its happy place and rainy days for snuggling and sunny days to sit outside on the quilt in the grass, and you can remind yourself that teething doesn't last forever and that the end result will allow you to eat really wonderful things like pizza.

In the same way, I'm reminding myself that transition doesn't last forever and that the end result will allow me to live more fully because every challenge and every change presents the opportunity to draw closer to Christ.

And if there's one thing that I know it's that being close to Christ is what true life is about, not being stable or thinking I've got everything under control or even feeling like I have a life other than littles and legos and laundry.

So this, let's end here: transition is temporary. At the very least, it can only last 80-90 years. And what do we have at the end? Jesus. The never changing one. The one who never leaves us or forsakes us. The one who always is and always will be.

And we can enjoy the constancy of who He is now while we're in the midst of this, or we can find ourselves lost in these between moments and allow them to swallow us up and take us under.

On a final honest note, knowing Jesus doesn't change the reality. I'm still tired. I still don't have enough time for everything I want to accomplish during the day. I still wish there were a couple more of me to go around. My body literally aches at the end of the day. The Man has given up having conversations with me after 930 because I'm falling asleep mid-sentence when I'm the one talking. Today one of my children (who shall remain nameless) fell down the stairs. Yesterday while I was plunging the toilet, Tiny lovingly fed Bee a whole cashew. This is my reality.

But--knowing Jesus changes the why, because I remember that the reality belongs to Him. And if the reality belongs to Him then it matters. And if this in between time matters, then it's worth it. It's not a waste of time. It's not just a systematic breaking down of everything I am. It's not just something I have to get through.

It is purposeful. It has worth. It's His.

Everything else
is over here.

{Thank you so much for joining me this month. I've appreciated more than I can say your comments and feedback and well-wishes. You make writing even more of a joy than it already is.}

1 comment:

  1. I appreciate that you loved OK even when people around you didn't. I really enjoyed visiting you there and there are definitely missable things. But I'm glad you're by the water now because that is always fun. And how much did the boys love paddle boating?!!