I daydream about life in the big city (pick one: Chicago, LA, NYC), having chic lunches, going to hotspots in the evenings, closing impressive deals (what kind, who knows), coming home to a place that is immaculate, and being child-free.
I daydream about going back to work. I daydream about going back to school. I daydream about my alter-ego-self in a job doing something meaningful, something with results that are tangible and quantifiable.
The reality is I am in the forest of motherhood. Sometimes, I am entrenched so deeply I cannot see the forest at all. All I see are trees. Everywhere I look. There’s no sky, no sunlight. I feel as though I will be the mother of two boys, ages almost 7 and 5 ½. FOREVER.
Seven years ago, I was pregnant with Ethan. My Dearest and I were living in an apartment. I was soaking my tootsies in the corner of the pool and declared to my Dearest that I could “launch myself over to the adjacent corner using the handrail.” He laughed and said, “Honey, I’m not sure I like any sentence with you and ‘launch’ in it.” In my mind, I still weighed x number of pounds and my belly had grown “a bit.” Did I mention I was fully-clothed, almost due to give birth, and was sitting on the edge of the deep-end? I sure did ‘launch’ myself over to the other side of the handrail, skimmed my bottom along the surface of the pool and was feeling triumphant. Thankfully, no one was near the pool.
That was seven years ago. I have moved through the forest; even though it seems that each and every tree looks identical. God is gracious and merciful. He sees us through every circumstance in our life; He has planned every detail. I know He’s guiding my way through this forest. Without Him, I’d be completely lost.