Lost in Narration

This little, very unsophisticated blog began a long time ago as my own personal therapy to deal with a cross country move to a new life. It has some real highs and real lows. Lately, it's just been a quick post of pictures of fun things we've been doing or something I made. My soul has not been much engaged in thought. I didn't need to post deep and morose confessions because I didn't have any...I've been flying high over a new found creative outlet, the general ease of my children being old enough to survive if I am not on pointe, and our church reaching a kind of good-natured toddler stage instead of the scrawny infant it first was. Frankly, I've been pretty happy.

Wrecking your second car in a month has a somewhat jolting effect, not only on your musculature system, but also in your soul. I think I would be remiss if I didn't take the time to think this over.

I have not been much inclined to play the "what if" game. I don't normally drive that road. I don't normally have C on that side of the car. I don't always take the time to make sure her seatbelt is on correctly. I seldom drive when Robb is in the car. I've never been in a serious wreck before. I've never rolled a car, set off the airbag or attracted the attention of an ambulance. But for all that, I have the weird sense that it was all pre-ordained. Destined. That I merely played out what was supposed to happen. I cannot explain why I feel that way, but I feel it deeply. And it is strangely comforting.

I recently told H that I have not been myself. For a while now, I have merely existed in the confines of my life, with a lack of awareness for what is happening. I have just been phoning it in as a wife and mother...getting by with the least amount of effort. Lost in play, distraction, and synthetic experiences. But I think I am waking up.

The first thing I see is how bad I really am. The stark truth that I am selfish to the core. And I am needy. Our little stockpiled savings account that had me feeling so smug will be gutted soon. I am vulnerable. My life is a mere blip on the screen and the time I am given each day is the great equalizer of us all. I feel no confidence that I can change any of this. I lack the emotional energy to do anything differently. But I feel hopeful. That somehow, like my mosaic china, broken is better. Imperfect and chipped is easier to use than impervious and perfect.

So broken toe, four prescriptions between Robb and I, scraped neck, bruised and sore, 2nd wrecked car in a month, savings sucked dry... I'm listening God. Can you do something with me?