It's 326am. By all means I should be sleeping, but a wicked cold, too much decongestant and lingering thoughts keep me diligent in my sleeplessness. I am thinking about today, about the ups and downs and bouts on inspiration. My son has decided to turn fit enamored on us and I am at a loss as to how to handle both it and his verbal defiance. It is a huge part of our day to day right now but somehow also seems so trivial as I know it is a season, that consistent discipline and an ability to hold my ground will, in time, change his ways. And even though I know this, I can't seem to stop complaining about it. I hear the words come from me, talk of his actions and my absent husband and it just disappoints me. I am content in my circumstances, I love this life and what I am able to do but for some reason I also tend toward attention seeking behavior, craving pity and sympathy that I really don't need. The grace of those around me abounds and I realize that maybe I should lend a little more to myself.
I keep thinking about my strengths and weaknesses, the chances I could take in my life to live bigger and bolder and have fewer regrets. I'm so safe right now, so afraid to let go of the simplicity of our life, so afraid to listen to the voice of nonsensical decisions that would likely lead to pure joy and less control. I feel a whisper that our family is not meant to stay small, that God has plans to prosper us, that he trusts us with many lives and many souls but that means less order, less outings, even less time to connect with Corey. But it also means more life, more love to give and receive. Corey and I hope to bring a new and fresh start to a little life somewhere, to take a child into our family who is wanting for one, but I feel a deep pull inside telling me that adoption will become a joyous addiction. When, where and how many children is vague. Our hearts are open.
The chance I know is begging to be taken lies in serving, in giving my all to this community, in being a shepherd of lost youths. The network of needy young people in the high schools of Southside Peoria beckon both Corey and I, but we feign to jump in and do something. The time commitment is petrifying in our world of limited togetherness, but I wonder too how choosing to save and impact these lives in our own small way might bring us closer in monumental ones. I doubt our ability to do enough with these small children in tow, instead of just stepping out on faith and trying, I hold back and wait for the pieces to be shown. I want clarity. What I need is trust.
"God doesn't require us to succeed; He only requires that you try." -Mother Teresa