Life is pretty funny, don't you agree?
I mean, here I am, alone in my house with only an old, wrinkly dog. This dog is either snoring so loudly it's distracting, walking around clickety-clacking on the wood floors, or worst of all, licking his privates with the grossest, mouthiest sounds you've ever heard. It's Jabba the Hutt sounds magnified 100 times. But even with all of these sounds, it's quiet.
Too quiet.
I am struck by the titles of my blog posts of yore-that I was in such survival mode for so long that I almost don't remember what "normal" was like. It was heavy combat for many, many years. Days seemed like months and years felt like decades. I cried ALOT back then. I longed for the days when I could just sit in a quiet home and not be bothered for hours on end. When I could have the windows up giving much-needed fresh air, the music on, the tv turned loud, and NO ONE would interrupt me and tell me I couldn't have all of those things going at the same time. Oh, and I would have a glass of wine in my hand and laugh and dance "like no one was watching" and gorge myself with chocolates and bon bons because life would be so wonderful.
And then it happens...
They get busy. School gets more involved and there are rehearsals and new schedules that take them away from you. Or, worse, they move away...how dare they! They take their belongings and move to a different home with another child their own age and make new friends and have new experiences that you know nothing about. They become involved with activities that they never showed interest in before. They tell you about professors that you do not know and classes they are excited about. They grow up into humans. They are monsters no more. I mean, don't get me wrong, I do still have to deal with one grumpy soldier who fires at will when I pick him up 30 seconds too late or if I smile the wrong way.
But, I wasn't expecting this. I wasn't prepared for the quiet.
I find myself not dancing and not singing. I was so sure this would happen. I had the mental calendar in my mind counting down the days when I would no longer have to hear my name called over and over for mindless requests. Instead I find myself not knowing what to do. "Who am I?" rings out in my head.
Life is ironic and bittersweet. The things you want in one season are the things you long for in the next.
So what is the moral of the story? (I am a positive person. I cannot leave anything on a sour note.) Will I say to cherish every moment? To take a mental snapshot of each season and count the cost and the blessings? Will I say to be present even in the pain of life? Will I say to "do you" and go find your passions and your heart and all the things that make you tick? Will I say to pray and trust that God and all of his crazy Grace will carry you?
Yes.
To all of it. No season, whether light or dark, will last as long as you think.
