Thursday, May 14, 2015

Learning to Rest Even When You Are Awake

I took this picture today and shared on Instagram: 
Just came in for a lickity split bath and bedtime. This is a record, even for thes folks. We shoved them outside around ten when the floor guys got here and there was really nowhere for them to be and thy've been out there, without complaint, since then. Then or so consecutive hours with only potty breaks for AP (Graves used a tree because otherwise what's the point of having a backyard?). I don't ask God for signs much but I also do try to seek Him in the every day. It may seem trivial or like I'm reaching, but ten consecutive hours seemed like the magic number confirmation I needed that this is home from right now. I don't know that there's a better thirtieth birthday present to be had. (And that doesn't mean I won't still have hard days or miss Brooklyn so y'all be patient with me.)


Yesterday, I got this post typed out but felt uneasy hitting publish:

SD: "It seems like it was forever eternity."
Peyton: "Yeah. It seems like it was a long time ago."
SD: "It feels like it was all a dream."
SD: {grumbles about my dad}
Peyton: "Well, it was nice of your parents to keep the kids on such short notice."
SD: "Well, it was nice of us to move home from a place we loved a lot so they could be near their grandchildren."

Both of these conversations involved me devolving quickly into tears. The second also involved some guilt and shame. 

Several people have told me that it will be fine and I'll adjust back and that Brooklyn was an adjustment. But the truth is, while Brooklyn was an adjustment and I never fully adjusted I don't think, it was a much easier adjustment than I expected. So far this has proven to be much harder than expected. So the comparision doesn't totally line up.

I found one that feels better. The other day I was talking to Carrie and we were talking about how moving is just hard- weather it's across the country or across town. How unsettled you feel in your own space and how you crave routine so much your emotions get all out of sorts. 

Then I was reminded of something. I remembered another really hard time. Harder than any move. I remembered when Graves was a tiny baby and I just felt like I was barely keeping my head above water. Annie had morphed into a totally different child and he was a very different baby than her. Every emotion I had felt raw and too intense to take. It was a challenging time...even a scary time.

The beautiful thing was a hard thing and it came at a cost. I had to give up what I had with just Annie. Honestly, I had to sort of give up the kind of child she was before she had a sibling. I had to give up being really inflexible and being really in control. I was telling a friend just today how even though Annie fights to be in control a lot more these days, as a baby he is the one who caused me let go of a lot of my assumptions and preferences and opinions on the "right" way to do things weather that had to do with sleeping or breastfeeding or potty training. 

I remember back in those earliest days with him really questinioning myself. Questioning if our timing had been off. If maybe we should have waited until Annie was a bit older.

And then feeling such guilt over those feelings. And feeling such guilt over not enjoying enough what I KNEW was a precious gift. 

But I couldn't force it. And after awhile, the good feelings did come. I felt hope and joy and could really see how beautiful the beautiful thing we had was after the fog lifted. There is not a day that goes by now that I question if Baby Graves didn't come to us at exactly the right time. 

So I'm waiting on those feelings. And in the meantime, I'm letting things carry me. The words of treausured friends, Peyton's embraces, the hours the kids are spending relishing in having in our yard, the dreams we have for the next few years here, beautifully mundane things that make the day perfectly worthwhile. 


I'm trusting in what He's shown me for tomorrow. God showed me something bigger today than that this is home (though, as you can see, that's a really big thing). He showed me that I could rest in this and trust Him to make it right in this situation. Right after I typed out that post about "not forcing the feelings", I felt them. Because I rested and I trusted. But he showed me something bigger and broader, in fact, than even that I can trust Him with where home is (and that's a really, really big thing).

He showed me that I can do that with all the situations in my life that seem frightening and paralyzing and daunting. It feels crazy that it's true, but there are one or two situations right now that are even bigger and more terrifying than this (I think I'll probably blog about them this Summer, but I just haven't been up for it yet).

I think I've mentioned this before but one of my very favorite Rain for Roots songs says:
Come to me 
Walk with me 

Learn the rhythms of my grace 

Come to me 

I have all you need 
Learn to rest even while you are awake

There was a season where I sang it to the children literally every night. For a chronic worrier, for someone crippled by anxiety, this felt like a very beautiful expression of love and comfort. It wasn't another guilt trip, another "get it together and feel better", another "your faith is insufficient". It was just a beautiful thought of how the Lord wanted me to be free of those things.

This is something I am decidely bad at- this learning to rest even while I'm awake. And part of what that comes down to is a fear that His grace is not enough. Otherwise, why wouldn't I just rest in it? 

Because I think I can fix things?
Because if I REST the world (or at the very least, my very small- but very important- peice of the world) will stop spinning?
Because GRACE seems absurd and impractical and too insane to be true?
Because I've spent two weeks away from the people who first taught me these things?

I dunno, maybe. 

But today I rested. And tonight, too. Maybe I'm even learning those rhythms a little better. Or learning how to feel them reverberate here. Even when I'm awake. 


Mallory Pickering said...

I get that and enjoyed reading about what your relationship is like with God at this time. I think I feel safe sharing some of my difficult emotions with you because you aren't the type of person to just say "buck up." When someone feels paralyzed, that's like piling on guilt that just makes them feel even further sunk down. Thanks for being a good friend to me.

Jennifer said...

Your honesty is refreshing! I tend to think life would be so much easier if we moved back to NC but I know that is not the case.