I’m doing it again.

I am restless, wanting more.

It’s 9:45 pm {UPDATE it’s now 4:24 am because, ugh, pregnancy insomnia}, I’m congratulating myself on taking a shower today and not crying when the dog escaped because it’s June in TN and I am a million months pregnant and I want this boy to Come. Out.

And we are living in each moment praying for grace and no yelling and thankful for pools and libraries that occupy my babes and have mercy on my budget while we wait for this son o’ mine … and I’m happy. I’m grateful. I’m where I need to be right now.

And then I read about Africa, here, here, and here. (Ann Voskamp, of course.) And the vision of these women, and I go to their blogs and read their writing that cuts me in good ways, words that wound my heart with truth.

And I remember that I haven’t blogged or written ANYTHING in almost a month, well, mostly because I am a million months pregnant {and having false labor continuously for the last month of those million} and living moment to moment. But also because our house got hit by lightning two weeks ago and WHO KNEW what fixing that would entail {and the soul searching it produces … }? That story is coming, by the way, we are all fine and so is our house, mostly.

And these women, the ones I admire, and their words I am drawn to, they floor me … {and I don’t know them, but I suspect they would not like to be admired publicly}, they look so perfect and lovely in their photos and really all I want to know is if their house is clean and did they yell at their kids {turns out yes, because they really are truth-tellers}, and do they have it all together {turns out not always}. And more importantly, how they have the time and the words and the heart and the grace to fit it all in … and what has to give … and how do I do that? How do I do more? 

I want to write you my book and tell you my stories of Him and of grace, and I want to go, and serve, and give … and most days I am just lucky {and grateful} to have taken a shower and fed and clothed my wee babes.

A.V. talks of Esther, and her moment, and how we, too, are made for such moments. {Seriously, go read this …}.

“The reason you are inside the gate for such a time as this – is to risk your life for those outside the gate. If I perish, I perish.”

And I feel stuck inside the gate. 

Tonight, I don’t have answers. I know, Lord willing, I’ll be at Allume in October to learn more about this blogging bit. And how to serve others, and Him with my virtual kitchen table. And again, by His grace, in Austin, TX in February, for connection, for community in my desire to live out Psalm 82:3, Micah 6:8, and the Great Commission.

I do now have the opportunity to to join the writing team at Christian Military Wives … I know I can start there, with my sisters in this peculiar, unexpected life. And I’ll pour my heart out to them {and you} …

And maybe more comes along with each moment and I’ll keep being grateful, and content, with each precious one I’m given. 

In the meantime, I’ll be scouring the Word for Truth {and for accountability purposes, I’ll be honest, it’s been more like glancing lately, which needs to be rectified post-haste}. And I’ll be seeking grace, and gratitude for the moments we are living here still at pools and libraries and creeks and front yards …

This post feels raw and unfinished, but it’s the middle of the night, and it’s my heart, and so, friends, it’s what you get from me … thanks for listening.

~M.

Moments … pictures, because oh, how I do love these babes of mine.