Here's the thing:
I am absolutely terrible at keeping at anything. Seriously.I think the only way I could be committed to being a frequent blogger is if it was crying and needing a diaper change. Who knows. Sorry for the long period of blogging silence. I will try to try to do better.
I really don't know exactly what the point for starting this blog really was... but I do know that now,for today at least, it is going to be for my sanity. This has very little to do with painting, and everything to do with life.
My Eva baby is one year old. My son will be born in two months. ... Lord, have mercy. The question that circles my mind at 2 am is not, "can I do this?" but, "how am I going to do this?"... It is going to happen, so I know I can't waste my energy telling myself I can't. Can't isn't an option. At one point ,when I was in labor with my Eva, I started to give up, telling the staff, "I can't, I can't" and a nurse looked me dead in the eyes and said, "You HAVE to, so stop wasting your energy saying you can't."
That particular statement still resonates with me.
After Highschool, I spent a year going to a Bible Institute in Hudson, Florida. During my time there I was part of a traveling singing ensemble. When summer came, we traveled out to California. One day we made a day trip to hike up a mountain. Of course the hike in itself was an event to remember. The scenery was to die for(I mean, literally, ...you would not want to fall...) and the experience was so refreshing. We all knew that the reason we had to get to the top was to get a picture as a group. Every group from every year before us had done it. It was tradition. We had to.
However, what I remember the most about that hike... is how I hiked. For some reason I must have left my brain in Florida because I did not pack tennis shoes. Or, anything other than sandals, for that matter. Luckily, there was a girl who let me borrow her sneakers. Once we got to actually hiking, though, it wasn't long before I realized they didn't fit very well. We had only hiked about 5 inches when my heals were revolting in blistering rebellion. I was doomed.
Doomed I tell ya.
...I took my shoes off, tied them to my back pack and proceeded to hike... in my socks. Yes. My socks. If I had the option of not hiking, believe me... I would have gladly said, "Peace out" to the rest of the group, and caught up on a nice sun tan while awaiting their return. But, I had to. There was a ridiculous opportunity for a ridiculous, unnecessary picture waiting at the peak of that mountain. And, I was not going to be that "one girl" who just couldn't make it. I think deep down, even though the reason would have been my lack of shoes, I still felt like people would have blamed my lack of physique. And I definitely would not be "the fat girl" (like I haven't been fat for four years...) so, can't wasn't an option. Not for me. I HAD to. I couldn't sit there wasting my time saying, "I can't"...
I still keep that ridiculous picture in my Bible as a bookmark in Philippians.
There are times in this life when I just want to give up. My strength is failing me... and I just know I can't. But when you know you have to, "can't" doesn't really phase you. It is amazing the strength you find once you make up your mind that you will.
I know that having two babies will get easier as time goes on. I know things will start to fall into balance and sync. Just as they did with our first. I always told myself I would figure out how to cross each bridge out as I came to it, ... and I did. I know I can this time around too... with two...
Yet still, there is this feeling deep inside of me that I am about to drown.
The beauty of it all is knowing that I can't... and God knows I can't... but He can. I am doing a Bible Study right now by Priscilla Shirer. Many times she points out the fact that the enemy would never push us to a place in our lives in which we would need to depend on the strength of our Almighty God rather than ourselves. If we are at a point in life, facing a crisis knowing we can't do it... but we have to, we can be sure that it is God beckoning into us "our story". One day, when we come out on the other end of that trial, we can tell our story to others and encourage them. We can look back and know it was only by the strength and grace of God that we made it through.
I thank God that I can rest in this truth. When nothing else comforts my soul, this knowledge does.
