these reminders. (archived)

attempting to sell a house is hard.  sanctifying.  everyone in my life hears the same song from me every day.  i whimper.  complain.  trying to find satisfaction in the uncertainly of a life’s scene that is (possibly?) changing.  how does one find contentedness in a home that one is trying to sell?  how do you detach when you don’t know if there’s need?  how do i anchor myself, settle my feet, on floors that may not be my own on christmas?  
i’ve been silent here because this is a place i aim to share what inspires me to stay home with my children.  to keep them close when the whole world tells me to send them away.  when they still have milk teeth, send them out to use their little words in a big world that is most decidedly not geared towards & valuing of small ones.  individuals.
but i struggle.  it’s not an easy battle, keeping them close.  especially when our house is on the market & everything is supposed to be clean & i’m dealing with idols trying to rip me in half.  
i want time alone.  quiet.  i want my house to stay clean.  projects to get finished.  beds to stay made, &, oh! i would love the thoughts in my head not to be run off by whining before i have a chance to write them down.
i haven’t been taking pictures as much as i usually do.  i haven’t been capturing beauty because i haven’t been paying attention to it.  i’ve been pouring into myself & lamenting over dissatisfaction.  i have been existing & complaining.  halfheartedly trying to remind myself why.

finally i connected my camera.  i’ve been occasionally snapping pictures when i think about it, & it’s been 3 months since i’ve uploaded the pictures.
uploading memories.  pouring over images.  seeing the little faces.  revisiting memories i was too busy (or distracted) to drink in fully the first time.  milk teeth framed in courage & adventure… & some times sass.  i need these reminders.  especially as we read about, & see first hand, how deeply the world is hurting.

a home is not an anchor.  christ is my anchor.  my calling to be their mother & to do so even when i’m tired & nervous, overwhelmed & battling jealousy & selfishness.  they need me as their mother, connected & inspired.  he has led me here.  to these precious faces, & their precious hearts.  he will see us through this time.  
maybe our home won’t sell.  maybe, christmas 2015, we will still be in this house.  in struggling to find contentedness in our home is where i’ve missed the mark completely.  my contentedness should be in him, my anchor in the Lord, yes.  tangibly?  given by the greatest gift-giver, these faces are my home.

& i am humbled & thankful that they’re safe.  that we’re safe.  that we have a park to visit & a car to get us there.  that we aren’t subject to physical threats because of our beliefs.

i sometimes feel poor.  we live in a land of great wealth, but i struggle with feeling like i don’t have enough. my babies are safe.  our house goes far beyond merely meeting our needs.  my husband loves me dearly & i see him much more than most are able to see theirs.  

reading the news.  seeing the families ripped in half, running for safety.  my brothers’ heads on poles.  
these reminders. they’re heart breaking.  they’re raw, staggering reminders of how wealthy i am… & how my four walls do not define me.  nor do my successes.  nor my failures.  nor my idols.  my definition is merely this – by amazing grace, i am his.

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