August Through the iPhone
And with August goes my hopes that summer will last forever this time around.
It feels like I’m the only one not excited about autumn this year. Usually, I’m about it, but not this year. This year all the posts and pins and tweets about sweaters and pumpkins and spices are falling on deaf ears here. Maybe it’s because we skipped our usual July vacation in favor of a September one, but I feel like I got robbed of a summer. Maybe it was just my first summer with a baby, and I missed some things because of it.
August was good, though, and as I drop in, and rearrange, pictures, I’m discovering that August was about growth.
The Meatball is growing, obviously. Standing on his own, walking with help, and just dying to walk on his own. I’m not sure what the rush is, exactly.
Other things are growing too, though: friendships, careers … radishes. (I’ve been all over the farmers’ markets this year.)
Some old friendships are re-growing. We’ve been blessed with some new ones, and I’ve been watching other kinds of relationships – mentor relationships and family relationships – grow into friendships. Crazy how that happens.
Husband has been given time to focus on his art, and that has grown more in the last month than it has for years. He is part of several art shows this weekend, and – in the weirdest turn of events – we were at the nicest gallery in Elgin last weekend … hanging some of his stuff. He had an offer on one before he was even done, that may or may not actually come through, but the best part was that he got to use his art to share the gospel with a couple of self-proclaimed pagans who loved his stuff.
(That dog, believe it or not, is still growing too. 120-pound puppy. No joke. I want one.)
August was definitely a time of growth for me.
My baby is growing, and it freaks me out. (It also makes my arms super buff, though.) I feel like I’ve failed so many times as a mama in the past four weeks, that I must be growing … right? Priorities are still shifting, experience is still mounting. I’m a better mama now than I was in July. I hope.
Our leadership team was really challenged last month, and it inspired some reevaluation and some stretching. Ministry is just hard, and I’m constantly wondering if I’m cut out for it, but the wondering always pushes me back to grace and the power of the Holy Spirit and the Word. I need that.
The hardest part, and the biggest growth, has been Husband not having a regular job.
Someday we’ll probably look back on this time and laugh at what a crazy adventure it was – house we just refinanced, eight-month-old baby, and a horizon full of question marks. We both feel like this is where God is calling him right now, and that should make it easier – I should find comfort and rest in that revelation.
But it’s hard. I like spreadsheets and budgets and plans and maps, and there is none of that right now.
Husband is such an amazing artist – and I’m not the kind of wife to throw that around ’cause I’m blinded by love or anything. I want to see him pursue it. I want to see him use it and do it and make it happen.
It’s just freaking me out right now.
And – and – friends, I got paid to write.
For the first time in my life, I got paid to write. And it’s just the beginning. (And I can say it happened before I was 30 – albeit barely.) I should say, “I am getting paid to write.”
I got handed a really great opportunity with a growing web company. I ghost-blog, and while it’s not always the most exciting material (ask me about Health Care Reform, I dare you), it’s a start. And I’m believing it’s the start of something big.
Spits and Wiggles 