I don't have a lot to say these days. Most of my writing has been in my hand-journals or my head. Treasuring this little life growing inside of me has caused my soul to sit still for a while.
I want to keep moving. I want to keep calling and writing and visiting and designing and talking. All that stuff is more natural for me than this stillness stuff.
But I know I am slowly slipping into a hidden season in my life. When I would over hear moms talk about their "hidden seasons" of motherhood, I have to admit, I dreaded them. For a fast paced girl, slowing down wasn't in my predetermined forecast.
However, the last seven months of creating a human being has whipped me around and landed me flat on my butt. Not just physically, but emotionally and mentally and spiritually.
Physically, well, let's just say my beautifully growing body looks more like a road map gone rogue these days. But that's okay. I'm turning food into a human. (Did you meet my double chin on Instagram?)
Emotionally, I've had less bouts of pointless crying than we expected, but my heart has swelled to an entirely new level of love and fear. I love my baby girl. I love my husband. I love my life. And at the very same time, I fear for all of them as well. That's new.
Mentally, I can't stop thinking about who she will be, what she will do. Will she be a rebel? We probably deserve it. Will she love Jesus? I hope so. Will she be healthy or happy? What do I do if when I screw up as a mom? Is labor really as kick-*** as everyone says it is? I don't think I can do it.
Spiritually, I am more in awe and wonder and reverence of my God everyday. I want to know Him more, I long desperately to know Him more. I am soon to be responsible for raising and training a new little world changer and my relationship with God isn't just mine anymore. She will be watching. I want to know why He chose now and not then to give her to us. I want to tell the world how faithful He is and will always be. No. Matter. What.
I am starting to see glimpses into the beauty and chaos of what lies ahead. And though your posts about spit up and poopy diapers and 2am feedings scare me a little, I know there's much more.
So though there's not much to say, this softened heart is being molded like play-dough. Every color, smooshed together, into a big beautiful mess held up by a starry eyed child to her mother as if to say, "Look mommy, I made this flower for you!"
In a ground that was dry and cracking, a flower is springing up and it's not because of me.
“Can a woman forget her nursing child, that she should have no compassion on the son of her womb? Even these may forget, yet I, the Lord your God, will not forget you." Isaiah 49:15
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The Girl that Sings blog isn't a mommy blog, but I do post updates, stories and topics of motherhood I'm discovering and others I'm wrestling through once a week on Thursdays if you care to enjoy and join the convo.
