Eating an elephant

My basement is a flippin' disaster.

I can't remember the last time I washed or vacuumed out my car.

And I haven't blogged in a super-long time.

What do all of these have in common??

My basement, my car, and my mind are on overload. The basement is so loaded with...stuff...and I *need* a day without dog, baby, or the need to cook dinner to really storm it. But currently, the mess paralyzes me. I know you only eat an elephant one bite at a time, but have you SEEN my elephant? It has a lot of grizzle.

One of my friends calls her car a "purse on wheels." So true. Do you ever really clean out your purse? And if you do, does it stay that way? Mine neither.

And my mind? So full of things to think about and write about. The list is so long. So long that I'm paralyzed of my ability to just sit down for a few minutes and compose a post. My blog is my sanity. I love to write. I want to write about my favorite time of day: right now. Levi goes down for his morning nap (and after a few test-throws of his pacifier and stuffed giraffe, realizes it really is time to sleep), and I throw open the windows, steep my rooibos tea, and sit down with my Bible. Without this time I fall apart and am far less of the me I want to be for the entire day.

I want to write about the biggest thing about motherhood that surprises me: Guilt. And judgment. If you're a mom and you're reading this I really don't need to embellish on either word because I know you've already written your own post about it in your head.

I want to write about how I long for Jesus to come back. Right now. There are so many ways this world leaves me longing for my heavenly home. I heard an analogy during the Bible study I just completed this summer - the world we live in is just a shadow of the reality going on around us, completely unseen. Like a baby growing in his mother's womb, life just doesn't seem like it can get any better. Why would he want to leave this amazing place where all of his needs are met? But oh, little one, little do you even KNOW what awaits you on the other side!!

I want to write about marriage. I know I'm still a newlywed for all intents and purposes (but five years already in a month!!), but the longer I'm married, and the more my friends and I dig more deeply into what's really going on in our lives...well, there are few people reading this who would not relate to this statement: When we said for better or for worse, we had no idea that the better would be so much better than we imagined...and the worse, so much worse than we imagined. And that's the point of the covenant. I just started reading This Momentary Marriage by John Piper. I think it'll be a butt-kicker. I realize more and more every day it's just not about me. It's not about me. It's not about me.

I still want to write about the issue of pornography. That's a toughie, for obvious and not-so-obvious reasons.

I want to write about my dear Levi. How just typing his name brings tears to my eyes because I love him so much. And he's turning into a little boy, no longer my little baby. Oh, how I pray for his heart...his mind...his eyes, ears, hands, knees, and feet. We're already starting to wage our little mini-battles, and even in those little things I pray daily for the Lord to make me a student of my son's heart. What is the most loving way to discipline him and instill in him (yes, even now!!) that self-control and obedience are marks of how we love the Lord - and not in a legalistic and Phariseical way? Throwing a(nother) fistful of food on the floor while he looks me square in the eye is a laughably small battlefield. But a battlefield nonetheless. My friend and I were laughing on the phone last night about how in fifteen years we'll be saying to each other, "Remember when our biggest problem was throwing food?"

Thankfully, right now our biggest problem is throwing food...and the battle over the dog dishes has waned. Next week it'll be something else entirely.

Well, my down-time is winding down and I'm refreshed. Are you? And one teeny piece of my elephant has been eaten. The basement will have to wait.

Souls

I watched Soul Surfer with a friend yesterday. It made me bawl.

One particular scene cracked open a dam that I had been holding back for a little bit, allowing my brain to process only a few pieces at a time. Trying to figure out if what happened mattered to me a little bit, or a big bit. Sounds, bright lights, hushed urgency...knowing the outcome as soon as the scene started, but still playing my part. It's not something I haven't dealt with before more times than I can really count now. But still...we're souls, not machines.

But I try to function like a machine sometimes. Don't you? Keep-it-together-keep-it-together-keep-it-together. Move on to the next task, pack away the thoughts and emotions, someone else needs you now. You might not ever have to do what I've had to do on those days, but your variation on the theme is no less burdensome.

My Lord, my kind Savior, will chisel away the little bits one at a time, lending me His perspective, letting it leak out little cleansing drops at a time.

I tiptoed into Levi's room that night...like I always do, just to check on him before I go to bed. Rested my hands lightly on his back to feel his still, quiet, peaceful breathing. Exhaled for the millionth time my gratitude. Other moms were in their beds that night, pressing their own hands to their eyes and hearts because their child's breath is no longer. Or never was. Never before am I so aware of this. My hands - the very ones that so often have in vain attempted to course life back into a tiny body - were hovering over a living, breathing, sleeping soul. My flesh and blood.

He's over nine months old now. My Glory Baby would have been a year old a couple weeks ago. Two lives, one captured already in eternity, only knowing life before the Throne of Grace. The other heart mine to train up for eternity. Both are exactly where they need to be, and I'm so grateful.