January 31, 2014

Personhood



 This week I made cookies with my daughter, left a pile of dishes in the sink over night, and read a lot more than I normally am able. I reached out to friends, both old and new, and never heard back. I changed more poop-filled diapers than I would have preferred and found a bald spot left by my ever shedding hair. I ate an entire batch of cookies.

 These past seven days I've witnessed irreparable heartache and been invited to brainstorm with someone as they chase after new love. I was speechless when words were needed and found courage to speak only to have it fall on deaf ears. I had my commitment to my faith paralleled with my Bible study attendance - or lack there of - and I found the grace to just let it go. I called my grandmother.

  I lit a candle, drank a cup of coffee, and chose to enjoy the calm in the middle of chaos.  I lived in sweatpants and t-shirts - a cliche I have been determined to avoid. I read articles on the "mommy wars" and was embarrassed to have any association with motherhood. And I had hopes of completing projects but never saw it through.

  I found his week a dichotomy of so many things - just like every other week. And today, when my Question of the Day asked me who I wanted to be, I smiled and left it blank. Sometimes we think too highly of who we've become, and sometimes we think a little too lowly.  And sometimes, most of the time, it just doesn't matter. We're just people, living life in the good and the bad, sometimes excelling in our responses and sometimes failing; sometimes wishing we had done things differently and sometimes surprised by our own maturity; sometimes  holding a little too tightly to an ideal and sometimes welcoming reality with arms wide open.

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