Just Be

41 “Martha, Martha,” the Lord answered, “you are worried and upset about many things, 42 but few things are needed—or indeed only one.[a] Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her.” Luke 10:41-42

I often tell myself and others that I am in a season of waiting. Discerning. Figuring out what’s next. That’s easier to wrap my head around than the truth. The truth is that I believe God has called me to a season of being- not waiting. Waiting implies that I’m not where I’m meant to yet but I will be soon. So no, I am actually in a season of being. I am exactly where I’m meant to be. And oh my goodness, it is hard in this head of mine.

I have fought “just” being home with my child in lots of ways. I’ll sell skincare! So I tried to be all in with that. And then came the whisper “No… just be.” I’ll work part time! So I looked into a job that was late afternoons 3 days a week. “No… your child needs you here at bedtime.” (That whisper was actually a very loud one from my husband, but I think it was from God through him.) So I’ll make a living from my blog! “No…. just write when you can.” Which turns out to be not as often as I originally thought.

Just be still. Just be with. Just be. Be.

The hardest things in this life for me in no particular order: Being still. Being present. Being with. Not knowing what’s next. Not doing it all. Not being “perfect”. Not controlling my future.
I am in the midst of doing each of these on a daily basis- or at least trying to do them. Some days I do okay and those days are filled with many gifts and so much joy. Other days I fail miserably and I am filled with anxiety and irritability. I get focused on the future. I have no idea what I will do when the time comes for me to go back to work. Staying home for now means a change in career for future. I absolutely believe this also to be exactly where I’m meant to be, but again, oh so hard to not know. To let go.

I know some of you may be thinking…. What?? Hard?? Try working AND being a mom! So please don’t read this as a comparison. It is not. I have absolute admiration for those of you who are doing it all whether by choice or necessity. My mother did it all. And I mean ALL. I do not use that phrase loosely. My oldest and dearest friend is currently doing it all. And again- I really mean ALL.
I have so much admiration and respect for those two. And when I envisioned myself as a mother, that was the vision.

So why am I in a completely different place? Maybe because I still have some inner healing to do. I am a type A, perfectionistic Martha who has always struggled to find my worth outside of achievements. You find this in many of us eating disordered folk who turn to the “achievement” of weight loss and food perfection. So I believe God is using this time to teach me to be more like Mary. And who could be more motivating than my own child to teach me what I still so desperately need to learn. To be still and with. To connect. To be fully present. To let go of perfectionism. To let go of how things look on the outside. To learn to be okay with being late or even having to cancel plans when I have a sick little one. To leave the dishes in the sink. To let friends see the copious amounts of dog hair that appear daily on my floors. The stains on my white couches. My hair that was not washed or straightened because my toddler was being particularly fun that morning. The extra baby weight I have yet to shed. I believe God is teaching me about the gift of relationship. And I am learning that showing my vulnerabilities and imperfections tends to strengthen relationships instead of destroy them. Hmm.. who knew? So for now my job is to be present with my child. Present with my husband. My goal is to serve in my church. Build relationships with others. Create a community for our family. And to trust God with the rest. Let go. Be still. Be with. Be. The hardest things are often the simplest.

Just. Be.
**Let it be known that being a mom to a toddler means you are never actually still. I’m speaking to more of a mindset here.