“I believe that half the trouble in the world comes from people asking ‘What have I achieved?’ rather than ‘What have I enjoyed?'” — Walter Farley
For the very first in my life, I feel an awareness.
I feel like I finally said “Yes.” to my life.
I said Yes to my marriage.
I said Yes to motherhood.
I said Yes to dreaming.
I said Yes to passions.
I said Yes to self confidence.
I said Yes to saying no instead of overcommitting.
I said Yes to my husband instead of my computer.
I said Yes to my God.
I said Yes to surrender.
I said Yes to owning my mistakes and my shortcomings.
I said Yes to the effort.
I said Yes to myself.
I, for the very first time, feel like I said Yes to the role that has been here, all along. And it feels so warm. And it feels so right.
Saying yes feels like you’re free falling.
Saying yes feels like coffee with an old friend after too many months apart.
Saying yes feels like the warmth of your child’s embrace.
Saying yes feels like Mom bearing chicken soup on a sick day.
Saying yes feels like flowers at the door when you least expected it.
Saying yes feels like home, like you should have been there all along.
I am so grateful for the people in my life, to the encouragers, to the fireworkers, to the community, to the women in my life who ride this road with me, to my husband who is relentless in his pursuit of our love, to my parents who look at me with the purest love that could ever be found.
I am so grateful that they’ve watched me say No and stuck around to see me say Yes. I am so grateful they said to keep going. I am so grateful they said there is a light even when I thought I was surrounded in darkness. I am so grateful that I finally said Yes. I am so grateful for this role I’ve been given. I am so grateful to be a wife, a mother, a daughter, a friend.
I am so grateful.
I am so grateful for this place I’ll call home.
This week, I’m co-hosting with Madison and Rachel for the Community Brew link-up, which was created for bloggers to be open, honest, and vulnerable, and to build community with others. So, please share, sweet friends.
And to those accusations, to those lies, to that demeaning and horrible conversation: I have no words.
Absolutely no words for what goes through my brain when I hear those incredibly awful thoughts being said aloud. No words.
The only thing I can muster is this: If someone has ever said these lies to you (even if it’s yourself), please know, PLEASE know that your passions matter. Your dreams matter. Your project matters. Your goals matter. They matter. You matter. <– Tweet this.
I know that that has been said before. I know that. And you want to know what I’m truly grateful for? ALL of the times it’s been said before.
Because without those thoughts pulsating through my head, without every single memory of every single person who wrote those words YOU MATTER or who said YOUR STORY MEANS SOMETHING or who said LET YOUR PASSIONS SET YOU ON FIRE, I would be in the corner crying my eyes out that someone could possibly say that my passions do not matter.
Because, really, get behind me.
What I love, what I dream of, what I have a vision for, what I think about every night until I can’t possibly think anymore: These things matter. And they give me life. And they get my butt out of bed. And they put red lipstick on me and remind me that I’m alive.
With passions, with voices and smells and music and friends and strangers and cuddles and kisses and whispers and love.
So what you have to say to me — what anyone has to say to you — about ditching my dreams, about pushing my passions to the wayside — what you have to say to me means nothing.
Using this adaptation of a coffee date from Mr. Thomas and Me. Amber is amazing and I want to have coffee with her. This is a link-up with Jenna of Dearest Love and me. Join us with your post below.
Over coffee I’d tell you that I’m exhausted in so many areas of my life. That I need to cut back and step back and that instead of listing out my obligations, I want to list out my gratitude. That I want to have a heart of rest instead of a busy one and that I want to remember what it’s like to get a coffee in real life outside on my patio with my kids running around instead of working tirelessly on so many other things.
Over coffee I’d tell you that my priorities have been messed up for quite a while. You’ve been there too, right? Where you just need a good, long reevaluation.
Over coffee I’d tell you that I need to focus on the Lord. That, really, as always, none of this matters if I don’t have a solid relationship with Him. Who am I doing this all for if not for Him?
Over coffee I’d tell you that my heart is heavy in so many ways but on the same time so much lighter and free. And that freedom? It’s addicting. And I want more.
Over coffee I’d tell you that I’m focusing on reading. I’m reading books again as well as a lot of really amazing blogs: Kate J Baer, Unfancy (duh), When at Home, Letters from the Nest, Kent Heartstrings, The Wiegands, and my friend Kellie’s blog. I’d tell you that we have so much to be grateful for. And let’s drop the complaining act and the busy act and the I don’t have the time for you act. I’d tell you that I need to re-focus my attention on I have time for you.
Over coffee I’d tell you that I’m so in love with Blessed is She. And I can’t wait to make it better and better and better. I would tell you that my heart is in this ministry, and that I’m so grateful for the women who are doing this with me.
Over coffee I’d tell you that my Capsule Wardrobe post got lots of love and that surprised me. And excited me. And I can’t wait to show you all a Real Mom’s Capsule Wardrobe. Because I think it’s important for every mother, wife, sister, daughter out there to feel confident and proud. And to own a good red lipstick.
Over coffee I’d tell you that work is good. That I’m proud of my job and that I’m grateful for it. Again, I’m trying to quit the complaining game. Someone will always out-complain me. Let’s change that. Let’s, today, change the complaint to gratitude. The sentence from “I don’t like this because…” but “Wow, I’m blessed to be here because…”
Maybe? Who knows if it will work. But I’d like to give it a go.