It’s no secret that I love this time of year. It’s always so full of energy. There are new beginnings and hard-earned endings. People celebrate all through May, and it feels like the Christmas season of the spring. I always love a good holiday, but all this happy celebration (just like Christmastime) can punctuate the sadness and struggles you may be facing.
I know that a constant barrage of achievements and college degrees might make you wonder where you really stand. I know that watching wedding after wedding can be emotionally exhausting. I know that one more engagement might tip your heart over the edge. I know that Mother’s Day can be full of grief for whatever reason…missing your own mother, infertility, postpartum depression, miscarriage, not “measuring up” as a mother, etc & so forth.
And you might be asking all sorts of questions,
I’m at the end of myself screamed the woman who desired a husband. I’m at the end of myself screamed the wife struggling deep within her heart. I’m at the end of myself screamed the mom exhausted in ways she could hardly explain. I’m at the end of myself screamed each one with burdens big and painful.And all the women screaming were shaking strong, tired fists and learning what sacrifice really meant. While differing heartache brought them here, they each sat in the wilderness just the same. When every women lost her voice there was nothing left to do, but seek Rest and pray for all this heaviness to depart. Read more
She asked, Where did the time go? So I took her to the prettiest house on the block. I opened the door and I told her to go before me. We found time in the small living room with worn blue recliners and an ugly brown couch. We saw time in the conversations that could only be heard in memories.
We saw time sitting in the six chairs that surrounded the dining table. We saw time in a marriage that was faithful and sure. We saw time in a Christmas tree that was put up and taken down so many years that we still can’t remember every Christmas holiday lived. We just know they all happened.
She asked, Where did the time go? So I took her down the hallway where there were childhood dreams and a bedroom both covered in tears and laughter. I took her to the bathroom where time became hard-working responsibility. I took her to the closets, the desks, the drawers, the coffee table, the kitchen, the laundry room, and every little corner had time stuffed in between. Time that couldn’t be touched, but somehow it could still touch us. Read more
Am I the only one who feels it? Because I am not a Mom, sometimes I feel as though perhaps I’m not much of a woman, maybe I’m not as intelligent, not as equipped for life, not as sacrificial, not capable of real love, not as tired, not as burdened.
I can hear the patronizing articles, and I cringe when I see the memes that start with My Friends without Kids Say….you can fill in the blank. You know what those comics look like. I see post after post of women claiming their awesomeness as stay-at-home Moms or working Moms. I see the fights between both groups and I’m disheartened.
I keep my lips tightly closed, because I don’t want to say something offensive or hurtful. I don’t want to say anything at all, because I feel like there is a shroud that envelops so many women of this generation.
And this could be my interpretation, but it seems like so many voices of social media yell, “You don’t know anything, you don’t have kids! You don’t have a hard life at all, because you don’t have kids! You don’t sacrifice ever, because you don’t have kids! You don’t know exhaustion, because you don’t have kids!” Read more