Marriage, Motherhood, This Crazy Life

I’m Still Here…I Promise

Okay, Friends.

So at the end of June, I decided to take the plunge and create another space for my words, another platform where I could share my heart with others. I have joined a few writing groups and found that pretty much every writer had a Facebook page for their work, which, embarrassingly enough, I had no idea was even a thing. Because, to be completely honest, I haven’t had much of a clue of what I’m doing this whole time.

I figured that if I want to make this a thing, though, I have to really do it. I need to give it my best effort. So here we are, a few months down the road from that decision, and I’m entirely overwhelmed.

The Facebook world has been pretty wild and crazy, and there was certainly a learning curve, but I’m finally getting the hang of it. And I love it. It’s been such a blessing to have a space where I can easily share my thoughts, have conversations with my readers, and my words have the ability to spread a bit farther than I ever could’ve pushed them on my own.

All of this to say: I’ve been completely neglecting this space.

I’m constantly reminded of my limitations, of the fact that there’s really so little of me to go around and do all the things that must be done. Which leaves minimal time for the things I want to do. I’ve pretty heavily devoted myself to getting my Facebook page up and running, and it hasn’t left much in the well to pour out here.

I’m not quite sure how I feel about it. Do I just start writing there and kind of let this place go? Do I write some things there and some things here? Do I make this space something different, something completely unique? I haven’t a clue.

But I do know that I’m absolutely loving this journey. I do know that I’m thrilled to be connecting with so many women just longing to be seen and heard and understood, to know that they’re not alone. And it brings my heart such joy to know that my words are spreading to people that need them.

So I’m not quite sure what I’ll end up doing, but I’ll figure it out. I have time, so I’m going to take it. I’m not going to rush this thing.

If you’re at all interested in seeing what I’ve been up to these past few months, I’d love for you to follow along over at Kisses From Boys with Krista Ward. It’s turned into quite the beautiful community, if I do say so myself.

Thank you for your graciousness as I stumble my way through all of this. And, as always, thank you for reading my words. I couldn’t do it without you.


Settling into this Season of Sacrifice

An afternoon thunderstorm had just rolled through. The dry, mountain air held the perfect hint of humidity, and a cool breeze swept through the sheer curtains, begging me to set aside unloading the dishwasher to instead curl up on our patio chair’s deep red cushion and read. Or scroll through Instagram. Or listen to a podcast. Or simply sit, uninterrupted.

And it was as I dreamt of neglecting my duties that I couldn’t help but notice them. They were everywhere. They being what seemed like just about everyone and their mom, galavanting about freely. Unchained and untethered, they were riding bikes and jogging and strolling along with fingers interlaced. At 7:08pm on a picture-perfect summer evening, they were living life without bounds, and they were clearly rubbing it in my face. They were showing off, oh-so-rudely reminding me that I could only travel as far as the baby monitor’s reception would allow, which realistically isn’t even a foot beyond the sliding glass door that leads to our inviting back porch.

So there I stood, country music playing in the background (softly, of course, so as to not wake the sleeping babe), unloading an absurd amount of tiny silverware and feeling a whole lot like the outcast. A wannabe. An outsider. I was trapped within the confines of my home like a prisoner, and yet, I’d chosen this life without hesitation. I planned it, in fact. I longed for it, dreamt about it, and then, when it happened, I waited with bated breath for those nine months in almost unbearable anticipation of motherhood.

This season of motherhood, though, the one with little littles – it’s teeming with sacrifice. ¬†Bedtime routines interrupt the occasional, long awaited dinner party. Oftentimes I turn down that friend wanting to meet at that restaurant for lunch because I’d rather not deal with a toddler screaming, “I want down!” while a teething baby gnaws on the edge of the table. Maybe tomorrow, but I’ll pass for today, thanks. It means having to squeeze weekend activities into the small pockets of time between naps. It’s having to get a babysitter in order to enjoy a genuinely relaxing meal, and then having to pay for that babysitter. On top of the price of the dinner. Ouch. And it’s watching the world rush by without a care as you cram miniature forks into the silverware drawer.

It can be exhausting, this sacrifice. Most days I feel like I do a whole lotta pouring with minimal, if any, refilling. I watch as friends and acquaintances and strangers parade about without having to consider the needs of tiny humans; tiny humans who aren’t so great at conveying those needs and yet are extremely well versed in letting you know when you’ve failed to meet them. With lots of yelling. And tears.

But, despite the fact that I live in a virtually constant state of sacrifice these days, I’ve gained infinitely more. The sacrifice – that’s the easy part. Tending to the hearts of these two unique, vulnerable little boys that I’m privileged to call “mine,” recognizing the preposterous speed at which this is all passing by, and daily questioning whether or not my sacrifices are actually sufficient – that’s the hard part.

So I’ll settle into this season of motherhood, knowing that it will be long gone all too soon. I’ll worry less about the freedom that I’m lacking and more about the lives I’ve been called to shape. I’ll shift my focus to what’s happening within the walls of this beautiful home that my husband and I have created instead of what’s happening just beyond our fence line.

And I’ll keep in mind that each sacrifice I make today is all thanks to having gained the most treasured title I’ll ever hold: Mom.