Did you know that November is National Novel Writing Month? NaNo?

Yes, I know it is not November.
November is generally a pretty busy month around our household. There’s a birthday, Thanksgiving and planning for Christmas.

June, however, has none of those distractions. June is summertime. June has only one wedding anniversary and no birthdays and no National Holidays.

June would be a great month to write a novel.

If I wanted to write a novel. Which I don’t. Or, more clearly….I have no idea what I would write about if I were to write a novel.  My friend Anna Howard has actually written a novel, which is about to come out…so I offer that as something to read.

I, on the other hand, thought I might take June to be….Local Blog Revival Month.  LoBloRe.  Yeah, doesn’t have the same ring to it, I know.

I am going to try to write each day in June. Sometimes it may be simply a post like today….a rambling talk about something I could tell you in one sentence. It’s the fun of writing, though, and I need to begin again.

I have always been fascinated by how my mind works when I begin to write. Whether on the computer or with pen and paper, I have loved even the feel of writing. The feel of typing or of writing on paper…it calms me.

There are times when I find I am not able to pray in my mind or outloud, but I am able to pray in writing…it brings focus and clarity for me. I am able to work things out on paper better than simply in my mind. This has been true for as long as I can remember.

So, for June, I’m hoping to write something every day in here. I’d love it if you came along and added to the thoughts. Some days I’m sure it will be little more than a Facebook status or Twitter update…some days, hopefully, the mind will be loosened to think more deeply.

Well, today is a rather important day.  It’s funny…I am still very much where I was in the last post, dealing with a melancholy sense of sentimentality. However. Today is not the day to write about that.

Today is the day to celebrate Madeleine Jane Wolfe.

She is one today!

We had her dedicated last weekend, have spent this week planning things in pink to celebrate her life, and generally are still completely enamored with her.

She has just begun to stand on her own…and I know it is a matter of moments rather than weeks before she will begin to walk.  Then to talk.  Then to become more and more her own person.

For the last year she has enchanted us. She was a surprise, and one of God’s best for us so far.  She has brought joy into this home we didn’t know we were missing.  I know there are things I will always wish I had done for her, things I will wish I did differently….but for today all of that is set aside to simply watch her be. She explores, laughs and cries, talks her jibberish and simply is in the moment. I think there’s a bit to learn from her.

So incredibly thankful for this little one.  

Happy Birthday Madeleine Jane!

Sometimes I am surprised by the things that move me. The things that stir my heart and bring emotions to the front that I didn’t expect.

Tonight I’ve been ironing a giant pile of school shirts preparing for the consignment sale tomorrow. I’m selling all the shirts because the boys will not be going back to school in the Fall. They’ll be staying with me. At home. You know, homeschooling.

I’m watching television as I iron the shirts and I grab a random one from the pile. It is a blue oxford with the school patch on the pocket and it unleashed a flood of memories, from the first trip to the uniform store to taking Zachary to his first day of kindergarten. It brought this little boy back to my mind’s eye…

That was five years ago, almost six. I couldn’t part with that first uniform shirt…it goes to the stack of things I can’t quite let go of yet. It was the beginning of school days, the beginning of growing up, the beginning of adventure and friends and stories in the car on the way home of all that happened at school.

I find myself with such a mixture of feelings, the result of ironing. Melancholy feelings as I think of all that has passed in the last five years….wanting to hold on to those memories and not let go. Feelings of guilt that I am bringing the boys “school” experience to a halt and changing what will happen as we move forward. Still, excitement about the new adventure of homeschooling.

Just as something like a child’s uniform shirt can stir a flood of memories, I am aware that I am quick to second-guess myself. I am quick to question if the path we are moving on is correct. I’m quick to wonder if I’m doing this thing….life…correctly.

In those moments, when memories mix with anxiety or guilt or regret or fear or even joy and wonder, I realize that I am in danger of missing out on the joy of what God is doing in this moment. The things that have gone by are like the picture above of Zachary…they stir emotions because this little boy has captured my heart and continues to do so. They stir me because they remind me how quickly life goes by, I know that in the blink of an eye I’ll be looking back at pictures of Maddie and wonder where the time went.

The time snuck away while I was wondering if I was doing things correctly.  It snuck by me while I was analyzing the past and anticipating the future.

“Be still and know that I am God” Psalm 46:10

“Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about its own things.” Matt 6:34

Breathe.

God is here, in this moment between moments. All that has gone before is done, and is there to reflect upon, but not to regret or worry about. All that is to come will come in its own time and while I can prepare I cannot dictate what will come.

I can breathe, I can be still and know that God is God. That there is a Sovereign One who holds it all together.

I can rest. I can enjoy the life that has brought me to this point and I can rejoice in three laughing, healthy, wonder-filled boys who will start a new adventure with me in a few months. And one little girl who captures us all continually.

We can plan, and we can hope and we can prepare…but ultimately we have to trust that God is leading us and stirring our desires and our hopes. It is okay to be moved by our lives, and to reflect with deep emotions, but then we can come back to the moment we are in and be wholly here. We can rest and enjoy the moment. We can trust that we are held by One who knows the beginning and the end…and that gives us much freedom.

I’ve been in a funk for awhile now. It mainly impacts my motivation to get the little things done…the laundry and the dishes and the making-dinner-kind-of-things.

The thing with a funk is that it is hard to pinpoint. I’m not completely depressed, or completely overwhelmed, or even just completely sad.

I think a funk has a touch of all those things. Plus tiredness. And mopiness (how on earth do you spell that?!)

Maybe, possibly, this is because I’ve heard of so many little ones lately who are struggling simply to survive. To live through the weeks of infancy.

There is Andrew who was waiting for heart. He received the heart transplant, but now struggles to get the kidneys back in line and the heart beating to the right rhythm. I can’t imagine the stress of his journey on his family.

There is Asher….he was born with his intestines forming on the outside of his body. He had one AMAZING surgery and seemed to be growing and doing well. But now, at just 5 months old, he has been diagnosed with leukemia.

Baby Pearl was mentioned in our prayers this morning at church….that God would be gracious however many days she has.

There are many more in the list of people who need our prayers, who are struggling through the days with mind-numbing illnesses and pains and fears and struggles.

The funk settles in.

I think, as well, my mom’s dementia impacts me more than I want to admit. There is that sense that if we begin to weep or mourn or allow the fullness of the situation to impact us that we won’t be able to stop. And we have to stop because there is laundry to do and dishes and making-dinner-kinds-of-things.
That is why my Dad amazes me…because he never gets a break from the situation, and for the most part he wouldn’t want one. There are times it is frustrating, and times he is glad to go to the office, but for the most part he wants to be with Mom because he loves her. Even though it is overwhelming sometimes and sometimes it just flat hurts.

I think I am beginning to understand that the funk settles in when the needs around us are overwhelming and we don’t allow ourselves the freedom to feel. To mourn. To weep even though it may be hard to stop. Because, I think, we are meant to feel the weight of our brokenness and to know that we need to help. We need to not run from it.

We need to declare that this is not right, this is not what we are meant for….this brokenness is….broken.

There is something deep in us that knows that there is something more whole, more beautiful, more full, more pure, more life-filling than anything we can imagine…and we long for it when we are faced with babies whose intestines are on the outside or whose hearts don’t work right. Or when we are faced with strong, amazing, beautiful, wise women who don’t know that the baby in their arms is their grand-daughter…the only daughter of their only daughter….

And it’s okay to feel funky on Monday. But maybe we need to let ourselves feel more than funky so we can move to feeling the impact of a God who saves us from the brokenness and who will make all things new.