Embracing Stillness

I relish mornings when I wake up early from the light streaming into my window, get to roll over, and just think. I don't come across these mornings often, typically I'm jolted out of sleep from the bark of my alarm clock, the sun won't be up for hours, and I plod along into my teaching studio with a morning concoction of toast and crystal light.

This morning was one of my favorite kind. I pulled out my computer and cozied up into the feather comforter, fully relishing the feeling of being able to just browse. I came across a letter I wrote to Brent in the middle of the night the first year we were married. Through the words a chapter in my life that was closed, opened, and I remembered the heart ache and uncertainty I felt that year. I'd forgotten how unsure I was and overwhelmed I felt with other people's judgements. We hadn't been married 2 months and I was living in New York, and he was in Utah. I felt sure we were going to ruin our marriage through this distance, or at least everyone around us would assume we had. It plagued me, this idea that I had never done this before and had no idea how to insure our success.

I know, type A control fanatic. Good thing I married a calm and confident older man who easily goes with the flow.

Reading the letter and hearing the words drip with concern over if we were doing the right thing gave me instant perspective. Looking back, I'm so grateful of the decisions we made, the progress I was able to make living that path - both emotionally and in my career, which ultimately let us start a family when we did.

So I guess the frustration that I now am fighting to keep behind the closed door should be quieted. I remembered as I was reading this morning that God has a way of making all things "a positive", which has overwhelmingly been my concern lately.
My biggest challenge in this chapter we're in at the moment is that I feel that nothing is happpennnnniiinnnnggg. . . . . we're still doing the commuting thing. It's April. Remember when I thought we'd be done with commuting in January, at the latest? The feeling that there is just no motion with our situation single handedly drives me crazy.

But if you're able to get past that outside layer, you'd see lots and lots of things are happening. Brent is finishing his training and studying to take his test. We've done several projects on the house - including painting the outside brick and getting a new front door. Brooklynn is a growing girl with daily discoveries and exploding giggles. I was pregnant and then had a miscarriage . . . . which means that I was a single working (secretly) pregnant mom, and I lost my baby after seeing it twice in ultrasound, without Brent there either time. Once with a quick little fluttering heart beat, and the next . . . still. The technician let me have a moment to myself in the room with that black and white screen. Brooklynn's voice next to me was urgent, "mommy! mommy!", she didn't understand why I was curled up in a ball letting the tears wet the thin white paper under my head. I have let go of the one thing I felt I had control over. A deadline I could fixate on. The secret Brent and I were so excited about announcing the next week as I finally rounded the corner of the first trimester. Instead, I have given in, again, to the fact that I'm not in control. But, and don't think I didn't debate this for quite a while combined with an insane amount of tears, but, ultimately I know the One who is, knows better than I do.

And eventually I know I'll look back at this path that we've chosen - the one that keeps Brent in California for a minimum of 3 weeks a month and sometimes over 8 weeks straight . . . over and over and over and over again, and know it's is our path for a reason. I'm so grateful for both B's in my life. They are what keep me going.. . . and allow me to be equally okay with stillness.