Sometimes it’s as if I don’t even know you, like I’ve somehow been bolstered out of reality and find myself on the outside looking in, but never really seeing the you that I know you are …
The extrovert who loved encountering new people — allowing others to write on her heart.
The person who’d embrace vulnerability in order to learn and grow, and speaking of that …
The one who ran after knowledge with parched heart never satisfied until some particle of truth permeated her soul, becoming one with the thinker.
Whose thoughts read more like written words over the proverbial spider-web wanderings of woman.
You’ve contrived peace, picking and choosing what you’ll be from what you see in the world of mothers around you, rather than growing in contentment while discovering who God created you to be.
No matter your occupation there will only be one you — ever.
You’ve wrestled with shattered dreams, broken promises, fears of failing and failures very real and rather than rising above the ashes you’ve succumbed to a mere fragment of the possibility you are.
It’s okay to be you …
To forgo yoga pants for animal print and high heels — a “mom on the go” is such because of what she is doing, not what she is wearing.
To research history because it brings you life, rather than always scouring the internet for home remedies, discipline and homeschool tactics.
Write down your ideas and whimsical meanderings; too few people do and memories eventually fade.
Invite your children into the mess of your thoughts, that so very often swirl around them — let them know how they hold your heart.
Get out of that box you’ve fashioned for yourself and cast aside your vain imaginations of what you think others are expecting of you.
This is the year to live simply.
Don’t get stuck in the rut of loneliness that big city living can be.
Free yourself from the supposition that someone else can do your life better than you.
Read … sing … research … dance … laugh … cry, all for the glory of the One who created you to be you.
Free yourself from restraints of a schedule you created — play.
Allow yourself to discover in the kitchen — for you, cooking is solace, and peace is living simply.
Quit mourning the death of a wife your husband never chose to be his and the loss of a mother you could never be to your children. You may never be breezy, but you can love relentlessly.
Grow in the gift of love.
You’ve allowed fear of failure to stunt your growth for too long.
Discover what it is to raise little hearts to know and love Jesus, but don’t wince under the weight of that responsibility — He will lead you and will be your strength.
It’s been so long since you’ve just allowed yourself to be, that you wonder who you are. Sometimes what the heart longs for can only be grasped when all expectations are laid aside.
And this, this is simple in all its complexity … the promises are infinite and the One who knows you better than you could ever know yourself is with you on the journey.
Rest in Him.
The you, you’re becoming …
I love new beginnings, but despite all my best intentions and carefully crafted resolutions this year began in a downward spiral that landed me in a messy home overwhelmed with responsibilities and children, but in the midst of all the noise of self-condemnation came the love of a few good friends who consistently call out the best in me (even when I’ve fooled myself into thinking that I’m already doing my best.)
Isn’t it wonderful that we weren’t created to live this life alone, but that into our lives, in many different ways we are introduced to and influenced by friends and family and those that become family in our hearts?
This year I want to discover what it means to live my one life to the fullest … not filling it with busy-ness, but basking in all the simple beauty of each moment — even the ones that are chaotic or messy. This year, part of my journey into living simply is writing with this wonderful group of friends. Check out what Staci has to say about new beginnings.