This Precious Thing Called Life

Finally some time to myself. These moments are few and far between which makes them absolutely beautiful. My fingers are allowed to wander into parts of my heart I generally keep under lock and key.

Right now, my thoughts are fragrant. So much on my mind; on my heart. Where to begin.

After pulling an all-nighter and witnessing Amaias in his 4:30 AM "bounce-a-thon" I have found myself worn; blessed, but still worn. I have a load of laundry in the washer and the dryer, a load running in the dishwasher, a baby down for a nap, everyone has been fed and here I sit at 1:30 PM in my pjs. But it's ok to take a break, isn't it? I mean, I know I have responsibilities but I am learning that I need a break. My mind craves these quiet times. 

So, here is where I am at. My world has been some-what overwhelming lately. I've been in a funk and not the funky funk. Not that get down and boogy funk. It's the funk that smells; the kind you step in and you smell it for weeks. Yeah, you know what I'm talking about.  

Years ago I had a dream and lately it's really been heavy on my mind. In my dream I saw a farmers hands. I remember watching as he worked his soil over and over and over. There was pain. I don't know where it came from but I remember the sensation of pain. When I awoke, the one word that stuck in my mind was "Cultivate". I don't know much about farming but I do know that this is a very vigorous task. It takes place to break up the dry, hard soil in preparation for new growth. Much labor and care go into this refining process.

I feel it. I feel the pressure and the digging and the churning. When the baby wakes up screaming or when I ruin the nice dinner I was trying so hard to bless my husband with and when laundry is screaming for me, when I write last months date on all of the coffee bags I dated, when one of our vehicles breaks down and we are left with one car...I feel it.

It's painful when being broken but necessary in order to grow. Let me say it again, if not for your

benefit then for my own. It's painful when being broken but necessary in order to grow. And you know what the most frustrating thing is? This isn't an over-night cure. And it's not a one time cure. This is something I have to remind myself of. Farmers are continuously working their fields over. Continuously digging, and sowing. If they don't, their field become dry and lifeless.

I guess that's how I've felt lately. Spiritually dry and lifeless. You reap what you sow and I have done no sowing leaving me with what feels like nothing. I have invested all of my time, effort and energy in everything but my Abba. It's so easy to do yet somehow it's the hardest way to do it. 

So, here I am. I'm ready to live again. Cultivate, refine, cleanse, purify. Call it what you will. Break this soil and bring new life.

And there it is. The cool water saturating everything within. Washing me. Refreshing my mind, body and spirit.