Enough

In this blog, I’ve mentioned my fight with sadness, made worse by an acute awareness of the pain and injustice present in this world and by the contrast of that with the omnipotent God of my childhood.

I’ve also mentioned that, as I was becoming a mother, a refrain of my soul was ‘I will lay down my weapons; I will fight no more’.

Something happened around the time that I turned 30, last November. My spirit whispered “done” in many different ways.

I don’t feel as sad as often. I’m better able to let the moments of happiness and contentment get bigger and last longer.

Nothing magical happened, I don’t think. Rather, it’s more like I’ve learned to dance. I’ve been practicing for a few years now. I’ve been learning steps, making them over and over, sometimes with tears, sometimes with laughter. I have made the dance steps so often now that I am beginning to know them by heart, and they replace my heart’s charge to war.

Mike gets nervous when I say something laudatory about him/us online. He says, and I think he’s largely right, that he often doubts what’s really going on when people gush about their amazing lives on Facebook. So, let me preface the following paragraphs with this confession: at 6am this morning, I sat up in the middle of our bed, frustrated that Emma had once again not slept well and woken up early, and half-yelled: “I can’t do this! I’m overwhelmed! I have too much to do!” All was not peaches-and-cream. But Mike told me he would take Emma (despite it being “my” morning) so that I could get some more sleep. His help reassured me, in the middle of a very important time with my work, that he takes me and what I want/need to accomplish seriously.

Being in a family has been incredibly healing. I thought it would be when Mike and I took that huge leap almost four years ago. But then there were times that it was really hard. I was still looking for perfection, of my self, of him, of us. How I released that is a topic for another post; the bottom line here is that I did/am doing so.

And in doing so, I feel like what I’ve experienced today makes everything ok. Maybe I won’t feel this way tomorrow, or even in an hour. But I do now, and for now, that’s enough. What I’ve experienced is this: I am a woman, loved and respected, with agency (the authority and ability to act) securely possessed in my self.

This is it. This is what I’ve been working towards all my teenage/adult life. In my striving to find help and answers for people who need it (read: myself), in all the hours I’ve spent with a Bible on my lap, I was seeking this place.

And here I am. For this, I bow deeply and say thank you thank you thank you thank you.

The “it” will not be the same for everyone. For me, this loving – but even more importantly, respectful - relationship was something I needed, not least because, amidst the hell women around the world face every day, I needed to know it was possible.

So, Emma, as your third birthday nears, this is the gift I give you, and it will be one of the most important I ever do: your mother was a woman beloved on this earth.

All the rest from here on out will be gravy.

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Confession #2: After I wrote this yesterday afternoon, we had a stressful evening at home, as we worked to juggle major work deadlines with planning a party and getting ready to leave for a two week trip.

Mike and I argued. I’m not sure who is more wrong, he or I, or whether it matters. I felt mad as hell at him, and he wasn’t too happy with me, either.

And yet, I still ride a wave of grace. This is the exact lesson that is freeing me: that things can be both imperfect and ok. A little scary. But my chance at happiness, if ever there was one. I’ll take it.