Offering

 I have been having a hard time working up the motivation to write lately. Maybe I just don't really know if have anything worthwhile to say. Maybe it is just easier to research the best bush to plant by the east wall of the house. Maybe it is because when I do force myself to take a few minutes to ignore the pressing responsibilities around me, I don't really want to spend that time too deep in thought. I find myself wanting to think about nothing. 

Meaningful. I heard this word repetitively on a podcast the other day while I was driving and they were talking about processing your day with your spouse. And for some reason, the idea of repeating the meaningful parts of my day, though I am quite sure I actually do that most evenings with my husband, sounded completely exhausting. It is funny how the only way of freedom and release often takes that final burst of energy that you don't think you have.

Life has felt heavier for some reason over the past few weeks. I have been praying for various friends and members of my family, and things that they are going through, and even prayer feels hard some days. Some days it takes me 10 minutes to work up the courage to face those difficult things in my mind and start praying, and I don't often have much more time than that. 

"Call to me and I will answer you and tell you great and unsearchable things that you do not know." Jeremiah 33:3

Do I want to know the great things? Or is it easier to live here with a sigh and a sink full of dishes and the minutes clicking by? 

He doesn't need words. He needs only our hearts. But for me, giving Him my heart means giving Him my words. All that tangled up knotted mess that is churning around inside. Those jumbled up thoughts that are always trying to sort themselves into to-do lists. That deeply terrifying feeling of not enough. Spitting them out for Him to sort out. Waiting expectantly for beauty. And most of all, peace.

"Don't burn out: keep yourselves fueled and aflame. Be alert servants of the master, cheerful and expectant. Don't quit in hard times, pray all the harder. " Romans 12:12

I stepped outside yesterday afternoon in between changing sheets and cleaning the bathrooms and litter box, my Friday afternoon fun, to clean out the chickens' water, which they are always kicking full of mud. Drain the hot tub again, which gets dirty quickly with all these boys in and out. I studied the cotton candy berry tree looking for a ripe one. Noted the browning tinge from lack of water after having flooding rain just a couple of weeks ago. My backyard is full of boys again. My boys and their friends, here for hours every day. The rhythm of trampoline springs and swinging and laughter and occasional exclamations of wonder from a particularly great trick or close call. Here is where life is, even though I often long for quiet. Here is where my prayers turn from tears and questions to only gratitude. I don't know what it all means. But this is meaningful. Dirt and chicken poop and all. 

We have pretty much wrapped up construction on the house after 4 months of nonstop action. Not that it is exactly "done", but we are done. And this is good. We rounded it out by painting it ourselves over the course of a week, though by ourselves I mostly mean my husband. It has been so much work. But this, this backyard full of kids, this is why we are here, and I am so thankful. Every morning when the sun comes up I walk to the coop, pretending for a few minutes, to be a farmer's wife. The chickens are waiting there ready to start their day, making their chicken noises. I open the "door" which consists of a lot of boards and wires and nails that are very secure due to the unfortunate circumstance of an opossum breaking in and eating Cinnamon, my 10 year old's prized Gold Star pullet. When I open the door I say "Good morning, girls!", watch them slip and slide down the ramp and something inside my heart wakes up too. I love the sides I have gotten to see of my husband now that we are fixer upper home owners. His strength and creativity have been dazzling. Life is an adventure.

We have settled into our school year rhythm and everyone is doing really well. I suddenly realized a few days ago how much less intense some of the kids have become now that our lives are not in total knots from the stress of the move. My oldest is going to be dual enrolling in a few weeks and I am excited for him, and also feel the relief of having a little less responsibility on my shoulders for his education. 

It's morning now and I started this blog yesterday afternoon. In the midst of writing it, the group of boys in the backyard suddenly decided they were ready to head to the trunk or treat event in the park. I couldn't find my key. I had to throw dinner in the oven. The littlest came home from Papa's house in her angel costume ready to head out. The park was full of people and dogs and toddlers that made me smile and remember. Little boys in line stressed from the crowds and wait and chaos and kicking their sisters and throwing things in the air. It brought me back to the days of 4 kids in line and the sweat and the smiles and the sticky fingers. My boys were off on their own running ahead, around the park, flipping off swings, climbing trees. My 7 year old, 99% angel was happy chatting with her friend in line and would have been perfectly fine if I wasn't there at all.

I saw a picture of my sister this morning hugging her 22 year old youngest child and I realized how quickly that will be me. Some days last forever. The drama of life is so much more like the endless twists and turns of the Harry Potter series than a neatly packaged Hallmark movie. I don't really understand it. 

But all we have is today, and offering ourselves to God in it. All we have is to love God and love each other in this messed up broken world. 

"So here's what I want you to do, God helping you: Take your everyday, ordinary life- your sleeping, eating, going-to-work and walking-around life- and place it before God as an offering." 

Romans 12:1