True Confessions: I was super bored this morning.
Of course, after I inwardly whined about my boredom, I felt guilty.
Suck it up. Look at your life, all your blessings. You have no reason to complain!
But, after the franticness of getting my 4th grade twins to school by 7:35, when I looked at the long Monday before me (I’ve been up since 6am), I was like blaaaaaahhhhhh……
My exciting agenda included:
Unload the dishwasher!
Load the dishwasher!
Break up fights!
Cure four year old of whining!
Watch endless episodes of Paw Patrol!
Wear out two year old so he will—please! For the love!—take a nap this afternoon!
And laundry….always laundry…
Can I just be honest for a sec? I love my kids, but I don’t really like being a Stay at Home Mom.
BOOM! (did the sky just fall? Am I going to be struck my lightning? No?)
I crave adult interaction and mental stimulation. I never felt so alive as when I was engaged in lively discussion in my Literary Criticism or Victorian Literature classes in Grad School, or when I gave a killer lecture in my own university classroom, or while I mentored young women.
Those years of grad school and teaching were rich for me; they drenched me with purpose. But this season? It feels a bit like a desert (and not because we just moved to Central Texas).
I get up each day, do ALL the Mom Things, and then fall into bed at night, exhausted.
And then I get up the next day at dark-thirty and do it again.
I wonder if I’m spinning my wheels, always circling back to the beginning, wondering if I am getting anywhere.
Then I wonder where I actually want to be and what’s so wrong with right here anyway?
I don’t know the answers to these questions but I feel like I’m in my own personal wilderness right now, wandering, looking for the Promised Land.
The wilderness is boring, monotonous, irritating, and long. But it’s also a place where the old things die away, making way for new life and growth. At least, that’s the truth I’m clinging to by faith.
A few months ago, before we moved from Virginia into this new Air Force life, I was thinking about the life I was about to leave behind; I was terrified of the future and, honestly? A bit resentful that my husband was moving forward while my dreams and career slowly petered out and died.
I was sitting in church one Sunday and we were singing. I don’t know what the song was and I don’t know what I was praying in that moment, but I know that I was struggling with the tension between being stuck and moving forward in this unknown direction.
But God spoke to my soul that morning, in the middle of all my heartache and angst.
He simply said this: I have not forgotten you.
There was nothing more. No promises. No vision for what my future would hold (not that I expected any of that! A clear moment of God speaking to me is rare enough!).
But the truth of those five words comforted me. And, when I remember to remember them, like today, they still comfort me.
Those five words mean I am known.
I am seen, even the monotony of my everyday #momlife, in doing dishes and laundry on repeat, in every frustrating, halting attempt to try to raise my wild boys to be young men who love God and love people.
My life is boring and awful sometimes, even if it’s just in my head.
But I’m learning contentment.
I’m learning thankfulness.
I’m learning to invest in where I’m at, to bloom where I am planted…
…even in the wilderness; I am not forgotten.
And neither are you.
Are you bored in this season of life? (it’s okay to admit it).
What do you wish was different?
Do you ever feel like you are in your own personal wilderness, just spinning your wheels, unsure of where you are going or what the future holds?
Share your story below or on TheBamBlog Facebook page.