Being Still

Sometimes, some days, my heart just gets caught up in all of it. In all of the … the mothering. And, I start to forget. I forget the point of it all. I start yearning to hear God’s voice. I start aching for … more. I start feeling like I should be doing more of something.

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The past few weeks have been harder than most. Full of chaos, tears, tantrums, sickness, teething, messes, more tantrums and just … soooo many needs that must be met. I’ve felt pushed and stretched and tested. I’ve felt raw, vulnerable, exposed. I’ve felt like a big, giant failure. Yes, there will always be days like this. Weeks like this. Days when motherhood will take all that you have to give, and then ask you to give even more. It’s easy to get caught up. Lost. That’s what was happening. I was starting to lose myself to these types days. Starting to drown in them.

But, then … yesterday happened. The sun was bright and warm against my skin. I had a few minutes to myself (let’s be honest, I was going to the doctor, but still … I was alone.) I felt … something more. And then, today happened. Today, my sweet girl (who doesn’t like to be held) actually fell asleep in my arms. This is so rare. Sooo rare. She typically pushes me away and reaches for her bed. Yes, honestly. She’s only 20 months. It’s tragic. I know. So, when she let me hold her for longer than 1.2 seconds, I was immediately in tears. I was in tears and thanking God for this sweet gift. This precious moment to just let go, be still and stare at her. I took in her beautiful baby profile, her flawless skin, her sweet smell, the gentleness of her breathing. Time stood still. Everything got quiet. My mind. My heart. In that moment, I pictured her … I pictured her jumping into crisp, beautiful lake water – feeling the coolness on her skin. I pictured her laying in the grass watching the clouds roll by. Feeling the fresh wind of spring on her face. The spray of saltwater on her warm skin. The butterflies that come with new love. The warm sand beneath her toes. The voice of God within her heart. The feel of her own baby in her strong arms. I just sat there, held her and glimpsed into her future … and let the quietness carry me…


As time started moving again, as I laid her in her bed, I knew I had been given a gift. A moment of stillness with my growing girl. A moment of calm during days of storm. A chance to hear God’s voice in my own heart. A confirmation that I’ve been needing. I’ve been praying and seeking – wanting to know the plan. The next step. Yearning to understand what I’m supposed to be doing. What I’m supposed to be writing. If this blog should be growing. But, clarity comes … with stillness, clarity comes … and the voice I’ve been seeking has been trying to answer me all along. “Be still and know that I am God.” (Psalm 46:10) Be still. Be STILL. And know. He’ll let me in on the next step when it’s time. Right now, it’s not time. I’m right where I’m supposed to be. This is my season in the sun with the littles. These are short, precious years. “Be still.” THIS is what I’m supposed to be doing. Being “Mommy”. The rest … He’ll reveal it all in time. I can rest in that beautiful knowledge.


Side Note: My sweet husband, R, sent me a link to this video and it was exactly what I needed to watch. It’s short and sweet … if you want to check it out. I already loved Joanna Gaines from Fixer Upper and Magnolia Homes, but now I love her even more.

Photo Credit: The top photo is from Janna at Yellow Prairie Interior Design. I love following her Instagram page and snatched this photo to share with y’all. Isn’t she awesome? Also, the “Be Still” sign, as well as the other, are from The Rustic Orange. The bottom photo is from The Secret Place Ministries.

The Calling

Not to go all religious on y’all, but yes, let’s do that. It’s spring, after all, the season of renewal and rebirth. And, we just celebrated Easter. It’s such a special holiday, but one that I, unfortunately, generally, fail to truly ponder and reflect on just how significant it is. This year I felt a bit more … reflective, I suppose, for lack of a more creative word. Sometimes, don’t you just feel Him calling you, pulling you near? Don’t fight those feelings. FEEL them. Let Him tug at your heart. And then, just maybe, let yourself feel strong enough to go and do just what you feel led to be doing. Maybe it’s big. Maybe it’s little. Maybe it’s microscopic. It doesn’t matter. It’s in your heart for a reason. FEEL it.

The Calling

Sometimes your heart speaks softly,

Whispering your name, urging quietly,

It calls to you in peaceful slumber,

And in nights dark with mystery,


It seeks you out,

In days full of grace filled moments,

As in days when tears and rain,

Flood the only path home,


You feel it’s pull in soft waves,

When life stills,

And for a brief, yet miraculous second,

You listen,


Sometimes your heart speaks loudly,

Impatient for attention,

A voice from beyond beckons,

Forcing you to hear it’s gentle calling,


Fear finds you in this instance,

Pulling you back,

Towards a familiar place of comfort and ease,

Still … the mystery calls,


Desire takes over,

Running through you,

A deep longing to be filled with a warm, spiritual haze,

And you give in,


The voice in your heart surrounds you,

Covering everything you once knew,

It reveals itself,

A form you always knew was there,


It showers you with love,

Showing you at last, who you really are,

Knowing you fully and completely,

And finally, finally, you listen


And you follow.

The Ugly Truth

Today I realized the ugly truth. I am being selfish.

I’ve been feeling a tad guilty since my last post. I was focusing on what I wanted, what I needed. I was focusing on all of the wrong things. I’ve been craving peace, quiet and order. Those wants have been clouding my judgement. A lovely little post called, “Mommy, Somebody Needs You,” on Your Best Nest brought me back to earth. Judging from the comments she received, I’m not the only one that needed her words. I landed accidentally on a blog I’d never visited before and read words that I was, without a doubt, meant to read. She says, “The sooner I can accept that being Mommy means that I never go off the clock, the sooner I can find peace in this crazy stage of life.” How very right she is! The peace, quiet and order that I’ve been seeking. Forget it, Sister. I need to kiss those fantasies goodbye, because they are ruining my moment. Peace. Quiet. Order. It’s simply not what my life is right now. It’s not what it’s about. It isn’t going to happen … not for many, many years. Those words. They just frankly don’t exist in homes with children, especially small children (or maybe ALL children?) If I were to have those words, then what would that mean? It would mean that I wouldn’t have my children. Right?! It hit me like a hard slap. What would my home look like if it were all peace, quiet and order right now? There would be no crying, yelling, endless juice getting, butt wiping and “can I haves”. There would be no messes, no piles, no empty baby bottles scattered around. But, this isn’t a positive. Because if those things aren’t there, then neither is the laughter, dancing, squealing, playing. If my house is quiet, then all the happy noise is gone too. Would I want that? Never. No way. I have been selfish. I have been making it about me. But, it isn’t. It’s not about me right now. I’m “Momma” now. And, I love it! I love the musical sound of my Little Man’s voice as he calls for me. I love the “MumMumMum” sound that Little Miss is starting to make when she needs me. I love it even when it’s making me crazy. I want to bottle their noises and listen to it forever. I would never wish any of it away.

There is a different kind of peace. I pray for it. Not peace in quiet and order. I’m letting that go. Those wants are free to float away from me and leave me be. The peace I truly want is simply a calmness of the heart … not of the house. This peace will come from accepting what IS. What exists right now. Peace IN chaos, disorder and general craziness. Breathe in. Breathe out. I can feel it seeping into my heart. I’ll keep praying for it. The real kind of peace.

Starting today, I will try a little harder (I was already trying pretty hard, trust me) to embrace my role as Mommy and stopping pushing against it. Stop expecting it to be easy. It’s not easy. Beautiful, yes. Easy, no. And, no, there won’t be Me Time. I’ll have my Me Time another year. No, there won’t be any time off.  I’m needed. And, that’s pretty awesome, isn’t it?