Monday, March 14, 2016

"Doing the do"...

Do you ever feel completely disconnected? Like not feel connected to anything? Do you ever feel like you're running 1000 miles an hour "doing the do", but with no real purpose or direction? I know I do and I pray I'm not alone....in fact, I know I'm not. This new mom thing is literally intense. I barely sleep, I'm constantly worrying about her, trying to wash bottles fast enough to give her another one, diapers and teething and introducing food....oh and work, there's that. I mainly feel like I am doing my best to keep her alive while trying to make people think I know what the heck I'm doing. I feel like it's tons and tons of going and forgetting why, forgetting the real purpose and the direction God is sending me in raising my girl.
Without a second thought, I turned at the cemetery after church yesterday. I went to visit Berk. I'm ashamed to say that I hadn't been since Christmas. My heart ached for her when I got out of the car. Tears streamed as I carried Sadie down the hill. I could almost feel the sensation of tiny hand grabbing mine to walk down the hill. I could remember exactly how her cheek felt against mine, tube and all. I could remember the way her little head fit in my hand, I could almost feel her little knitted hat itching my skin. Berkley was my first born, my first experience seeing my heart outside of my body. My only true experience of a broken heart. When I go visit her, I am always reminded of a point in my life where God carried my every breath. The ache of her loss helps ground me and show me purpose. The empty arms remind me that I'm blessed. It was exactly what I needed after this long weekend...
This past weekend was a massive one for my girl. She went in public...3 times. I know that sounds a little crazy, but being a premie we have tried to keep her away from germs during the winter. Now that it's almost spring and she is soon starting an in home day care, we decided to start branching out. After a Saturday of Wal-mart and a restraunt and a Sunday at church, my nerves were shot. I had been so concerned about who would touch her, who would breathe on her, what she would wear, what people would think of my mothering skills, all the little details that consume us in our people pleasing world, that I didn't truly enjoy a moment of this weekend. It was just emotionally draining and exhausting. I was at a breaking point when I left church. I needed to be grounded. I needed to be reminded of my purpose. I needed God to shake me and show me that all these silly little things aren't what truly matter, that the way I raise her is what matters. I needed to be reminded of this in the worse way. He must have sent my car into the cemetery because that wasn't on my schedule for the day...at all. He knew what I needed and what I needed was a broken heart. I needed to be reminded of Gods ever present nature. I needed to be broken to allow Him to fill me up. And He did. It was a rough afternoon and night but it was exactly what I needed. It's sad and it's shameful, but it's real life. I needed to hurt deeply and feel comforted. I needed to feel the comfort that only He can provide. The ache of her loss helps to ground me and remind me of my purpose. I thank God for steering me to a broken heart yesterday. The brokenness allowed the beginning of a healing and connection I've been without for a while. A healing and connection that I've longed for but been too busy "doing the do" to take the time to allow. 
#WowWeekend. 
Moments with Him, moments of comfort, moments of reminders, and moments with my girls....❤️