*Quick shout out to Mr. Ocean for owning that title phrase until the end of time. I mean, you know you started singing it.
I haven't written in a bit. I'm going to just let this flow and not edit myself (sidebar, I just came back up here to add the part about not editing myself which is itself, an edit. Oh boy). It may not make a ton of sense but there is so much on my heart today. These last two weeks I have been running on empty. I keep hoping that at some point things will just fall into place and make sense. That I will suddenly know how to be a stay at home mom and maybe even start trying to keep house a little. If you know me at all, you know that housework aint my bag. And now that I have two little humans, it falls even further back on the list of important things. But I digress. And then there was Daddy. He was sinking too. But for different reasons. Depression, anxiety, and a daughter 3000 miles away are his beasts (don't worry, I'm not an asshole. He knows I am writing this). The idea that my babies' emotional and physical health is being held in mine and his shaky hands is a topic that is often circling in my heart. I have a feeling it is for many parents. So these last few weeks we have struggled. A lot. With finding peace again. And also being grateful for what it is we have instead of lamenting what it is we don't have. We are hoping to find our Christmas spirit stat. Every time Mr. Pants sees Christmas lights while driving in the car, he exclaims "ahhhh!" while pointing at the spectacular sight his little eyes are experiencing. And Plum's delight in crawling under the Christmas tree while trying to make sense of the mystery that is tinsel. These things bring me back to what I believe in. The meaning of all of this. My purpose (cue dramatic music).
So when I drove past the sign in front of my church the other day to see that the service for Sunday was titled "Living with Purpose", well you know I had to go. I hadn't been to church in weeks and I knew I needed it. And so did Daddy. So we scrambled the kids, dealt with a diaper explosion at the last minute and Mr Pants' desire to run naked and not get dressed. Come hell or high water, I was getting my family to church. Period. And I am so grateful that we made it.
For both of us, the tears began to flow almost instantly. We've both been wound a bit tight lately. I've talked before about the emotions I feel when I sing. Well, that held true this morning the second I began singing the doxology..."From all that dwell below the skies, let songs of hope and faith arise; Let peace, good will on earth be sung through every land, by every tongue". Tears. Tears that had been waiting to come. Needing released. And they didn't stop there. By the time the service was over, I had been touched on just about every level. From the story of "Sloppy Joe" about a kid that was a messy mess (hey! I got one of those!) to singing the children out to their classrooms, "You've got the light of love inside you, go on your way in peace...", to meditation, to praying for peace and love to rise up for the Hubs and I, to the sermon. That's the Readers Digest version but you get the point. I sat in church this morning and I cried. Tears of release and anxiety followed by tears of beauty, then tears of sadness as our minister shared a devastating truth. Then tears of release again, rounded out by tears of hope. Hope that no matter what comes at us in this life, there is always healing. There is always love. Even in times of sadness and pain when we feel like we can not trudge through another day. Love waits on the other side.
What I came to understand this week is that I have to be willing to do the work. And this shit is hard work. But the work has to be done. You have to go through the muck to get to the love that waits. The struggle to be our best self is a daily challenge. At least it is for me. And while I get it right a great amount of the time, sometimes I just don't. Or Daddy doesn't. And on rare occasions, we both miss the mark at the same time. But we made a pledge to each other a while back that we would love each other through these kind of times (I think my vows even stated clearly, "even if I barf them out all over the internets"). The cool part is that we both put a ton of stock, sweat and belief in those promises. And when we have these times and we need reminded, there's this little dude and lady that remind us that this family we created is amazing. Mr. Pants' mission is simple. To experience this life and squeeze out every bit of awesome (and ranch dressing) that it has to offer. I want to do that too. And wow, here I am blogging about love again. You are no doubt rolling your eyes and thinking, "Oh great, here she goes talking about how love is all there is." and I will refrain from saying that in this post in an attempt to be less repetitive. Just kidding! Guess what? Love is everything ;)