Recently, I wrote about those times in our lives of “feast or famine“, and how that comes to fruition for us. And for me personally, it’s a matter of priority. Currently, we are in a point of “famine”. Not really in the way of lack of food, but more of a general low point. A trench with war raging around its high walls.
My baby has a fever that just won’t break, the dishes are a mountain, tumble weeds of dog hair roll across my floor as I type this. Character building with a toddler and tending a sick, teething baby isn’t a beautiful dance.
I take that back. It is a beautiful dance, yes, but its strict. Stern.
One that is sharp and must be made with precision and decisive moves. One that must only be danced by the strong: mind and body. The lion hearts; not rabbit hearts in this movement. The rabbits will not make it through to the end of the dance.
Learning to let go of control
My number one priority is my children. Their mental and physical well-being. This is where the famine part of my season where I need to find the lion heart within my chest. I need to find it for my family, and myself too. No running, hiding, being fearful; I will cultivate the lion heart and brave the war around me. I will hunker in the dirt of the trench covering my children from flying debris falling all around us. This is getting pretty allegorical but go with me here.
Let the dishes pile. Let the table get crusty, the garden goes untended. Feed the mouths and feed yourself so that you may again feed those mouths tomorrow. I need to keep up, yet right now “keeping up” means sitting still. It’s not something I WANT to do. It is a must though. I want to leave the bunker, but I have to sit in this rocking chair waiting out the storm.
I digress, again.
My point is to let it all go. Let go. That’s what I’m doing I’m giving up my busy-ness for the sake of my children. I’m pausing my work to nurture. That is the priority. Everything else must wait. And will wait. Things will get clean, just not in the timetable I want them to. So, I’m releasing that control.
A season to go slow. Reset to simple. Meals, chores, clothes, play; simplified. I will let go of that aspect of control where it is a very thick cord to cut.
And dang it.
I am not going to shame myself for it. I will be kind and gracious instead. Because I know that it is strengthening my heart. For my children, and for me too. In turn nurturing the gentle facets of my soul that need more attention. The work lies in myself right now and in my children. That’s where I’ll find my lion heart. Not in the chores or the complex new recipes. In the heart I cultivate within the home.
In gratitude my friends,
Tayler
