I was writing in my journal just now, and I started thinking about my blog. I thought, "Hmm, I really need to update that more." Then it dawned on me. I don't update. I don't like to. I am not an "update" writer. I don't like to put down dates, stating what happened, when, how, or why it happened, and how I felt about it. I do that sometimes, but truthfully when I write, I think. Updates are simply moments that are copied and pasted from your brain to another form of memory bank. A computer, a journal, a scrapbook. Many such persons are good at that; I am not such a person.
Truthfully, I wish I could convey what I was thinking now through a form of visual art. A painting perhaps, or a sketch. But, as evidenced in posts past, I am not very skilled in that area. I do my best to speak what is on my mind, and in my heart, but often times I flop out a joke, or otherwise stumble over what needs to be said. I suppose I will begin by saying something about finding our greatest potential, and living true to whatever that may be. In turn, I will begin with a story.
The holidays came and left, as did family. A certain uncle of mine (whom I absolutely love even if he is quirky), and I spent a few hours just talking. We touched on a variety of subjects, and one of them happened upon personality traits. Said uncle went on to say that based on observation, he concluded that I would do very well in a job that caused stress; a job that pushed limits and required working quickly under pressure. Aka, said above uncle, "Something in sales, or the medical profession. Or, well, hey, motherhood." Ha. Motherhood, indeed, quirky, lovable uncle. Motherhood. Indeed.
I came home after that conversation with a lot on my mind, and Jack was among the lot. As a mother, you do your very best to work well under the pressures associated with raising little ones. I know many women who are far better qualified for the position of being a mother than I. It pushes you to your highest limits, then it pushes you beyond them. Frazzled, and often exhausted, we do what we know the best we can. Advice is often welcome, all be it at times, annoying. There are days when pajamas are the wardrobe of choice, attractive as they are, and days where a shower isn't an option until bedtime, if it's an option at all. Some days the mirror before us shows a very disheveled, emotional, and in our own personal opinion, not very attractive looking, individual.
The point of this post is a simple one. As a mother, and really in life period, we give everything we have, and more, to what is around us. We give our best every day, and at the end of every day one of two things happen. After we have overcome the exhaustion, and the stress of it all, a part inside us wonders if what was given really was all that could be given; or we end the day screaming inside that we cannot do anymore.
Life is exhausting. Personally I cannot say that I have entirely silenced my own voice of inner doubt. Some days it is very quiet, and the self assurance I feel concerning my life is solid. Other days, it is harder to quiet my mind. Regardless of which day today happened to be, one thing is certain. In the eyes of heaven, and earth, sometimes the best that can be given is all that is needed, whatever that best entails. If we are screaming at the end of the day, pleading for a greater inner strength, then tomorrow we will find it. A very simple truth is found in this exhausting life; we are never left to our own devices. We are never left to be the best we can on our own. As days, or weeks, or even months of struggle may pass, the truth in the hardship is that they will indeed pass. In the eyes of heaven we are wonderful, refined, and divine.
We are precious, and we always will be.
