I was recently chatting with a friend regarding the nature of my personal writing these days. Though it mostly circles back to the same themes, it has evolved over time in that it often seems like I have a lot less material to process right now. My 30's are disparate from my 20's in the way of identity and life path and searching for so many answers to questions. Those endless questions kept my writing inspired and progressing; as my heart searched for recognizing its own desires, my writing propelled forward into seeking meaning and answers. While I certainly do not have all answers to my big questions in life, I find that moving out of the independence and freedom I once felt has led me into a cycle of living that doesn't have as many questions, or perhaps doesn't need to seek out the answers it once needed.

There are so many things I want to accomplish, goals I want to reach, and people I want to impact. Yet, sometimes I feel like those things aren't worth the time to process or reflect or figure out because I know it's not my call right now. The reality is that my call is to my children, my husband, our growing family. This was revealed to me at a deeper level yesterday when I received an email from my Department chair at PLNU (where I currently teach adjunct) asking me to teach new courses this summer. It's the opportunity I have waited for for two years, only to find out that the courses start literally on my due date. It is the opportunity I want to say Yes to, though I know I have to say Yes to something else - this little life entering our home, giving my attention and love to him and Jack as I figure out how to do life as a Mom of Two.

In this way, it can feel like motherhood is an endless track of sacrifices. It is a constant Giving Up, Giving Out, and Adaptation to a new lifestyle, human, and way of being in the world. Being pregnant magnifies this reality in the physical sense. As a mother, I am in a position where I am required to give all of myself to not only the toddler demanding everything in front of me, but also growing another child. As he forms, I don't have a choice whether or not to change physically - it just happens. When he comes, the physical sacrifices only increase. For women, this is the sacrifice that you often don't think of as such, because it's just what you do. There's no heart question at stake here, my love for my children is so deep that I will give everything to them without reserve, without question, without even seeing it as a choice.

I recently listened to an OnBeing podcast interview with Walter Bruggeman in which he disects the word "mercy." He describes how the Hebrew for mercy is actually the word "womb," as an illustration that mercy is similar to motherlike love for a child. The visual here is a mother who lays down her life, gives every part of herself, and essentially sacrifices all of who she is for her child. Mercy is when we can do that for our neighborhood and the people in our life. He says: "Giving yourself away from the sake of the other instead of drawing others to yourself for your own well-being. It is a generous connectedness to others." Seeing mercy in this sense allowed me to understand the magnitude of this call on our life.

I know that this is a season. There are dreams on the shelf for now; there are hopes that have yet to be fulfilled. There are ways God hasn't used me in this world to fulfill His purposes quite yet. But at the same time, He is here, He is present, He has called me to "Now. Here. This." There is purpose and there is meaning even when it feels like it requires so much of myself. There is formation happening and there are dreams building even when it feels like I am saying No to so many of them right now. He is here, He lives within me, and He has given me what I need for today.

*Please note that this post may contain errors because I didn't have time to go back and review it.