So awhile back I eluded to the fact that Ryan and I are working through some big life stuff. We've been consumed the last month trying to decide if I should go back to teaching in the fall. The Ides of February reminded us of just how tight our budget is, and how little wiggle room there is for emergencies. Simultaneously, two junior high language arts jobs opened up at Ryan's school. And River was in fine form all month - not acting at all like the little man of privilege that he is to get to have a mama home most of the time.
Its been fitting that this all transpired in the season of Lent. I don't "give up" things for Lent. I've tried it before and it seems like a contrived new rule to add to life for 40 days. Rules and I are not friends. I've sometimes added something instead - like a daily bible reading, act of generosity, etc. Also seemed empty and weird and contrived. Someone recently said that its their habit to repair a relationship or give a friendship extra effort during this season. I pondered that idea, but don't have it in me at the moment.
But here we are, in Lent, and we've been actively pursuing what God might have for us, lamenting our situation, and holding back from excess in our lives - all in pursuit of what might be best for our family. But that's really no surprise. Its the poetry of life and faith and the God and breathe and Spirit in us...the Holy at work...of course this big pondering in our lives falls in these 40 days. Of course it does. Because that's how God moves in me. I can count on it as sure as I can count on not sleeping well when there's a full moon, and losing a sock every time the laundry is done, and Ryan making coffee before work in the morning, and Dad sending roses on Valentine's Day. Its that sure. That God will move in me and shake my core just enough to remind me that I'm not on my own. That I don't have things figured out. That this earth is spinning on something so much bigger than a whim.
I've been subdued, mellow, sometimes wallowing in my own lack of discernment, sometimes grateful for lack of clarity. But I also do love some excitement in life, and this big decision has provided some extended, low-key excitement in our souls.
So I'm not going back to teaching. We decided that I WOULD, and then let it marinate. We felt sour and just couldn't nail that decision down. So we eventually decided that I wouldn't, let it simmer, and it felt better by the day. I know at my deepest core that there is not a right and wrong decision. But it does seem that there is one that will make the priorities we've set a bit easier to maintain.
I will have mom-guilt if I teach full-time. And I'll have mom-guilt if I don't. That disease that invades our home and my mind is inevitable. But this decision to stick it out as we are, accept help from my parents, continue to penny pinch, and just plain find joy in our already perfect life is good. Its a good decision. And I can feel it. As if I needed confirmation today, a friend mentioned another enticing teaching opening. And I got to say "no". And it felt right. As right as a "there is no right answer here" decision can be.
I'm thrilled out of my mind to not be leaving River and this little lady all day every day...
She is so quick and quiet and determined. More than her big sister and brother.
Found the snack drawer and chewed through the snacks like a little mouse.
I found her here behind the couch. She had opened the legos and torn apart the artwork she somehow got down from a very high bulletin board. No wonder I got to drink my coffee and put on makeup and get dressed without interruption. We were both quite busy ladies.
"Maybe if I hide behind this book, Mom won't know it was me that pulled all the cds onto the floor."
The tupperware cupboard is apparently boring if just investigated the usual way, so she squeezed herself into it to keep things interesting.
She gets into evvvvvvverything. Today she opened the fireplace doors. I didn't even know how to open them myself. This was how I found her sleeping last week, as if she had fallen asleep mid-crawl....
Its like the side of the pack-n-play was holding her in. She hit a wall and fell asleep, contented instead of fighting her way out.
Maybe that's how Ryan and I are now too.
Contented.
Knowing that what we have is oh - so - very - very - good. So we'll settle back in and stay awhile.
