"I want to do something big, I want to go somewhere, hug some orphans, dig wells. Anything!"
I totally feel the same way sometimes.
I want to make people see the world differently, love the beauty of nature, of motherhood, of salvation. I want them to see God as the center of all things good and lovely - with the understanding that all we see is His shadow, all we hear is his echo, that His substance is something we cannot understand and could not bear to look at. It is too great for us.
I still want to change the world. It's hard when your soul is on fire to do something great and then you reach out, take a tiny hand and change a child.
I feel like the greatest thing I will ever do is release 5 fragile little souls into the wind and weep as a dandelion must, to see them blown about until they find their place in the world and take root to blossom into sunshine for a season.
The majesty of motherhood is not in gathering up a body of work, a collection of art, nobel prizes or trophies, but in giving our selves piece by piece to our children, in planting a seed, a hope, a life.
And I struggle over this.
There is a piece of me that wants to be me - apart from being a mother, a wife, a friend. And I want to get to know that other me that wants to write and be good at it, sing until it breaks a soul open to God, speak and challenge thinkers to think their noblest thoughts.
And so I write, and sing and speak in the humble theater of my home. And I do my work of praising God through 5 little megaphones.
When I Consider How My Light Is Spent
When I consider how my light is spent,
Ere half my days, in this dark world and wide,
And that one Talent which is death to hide
Lodged with me useless, though my Soul more bent
To serve therewith my Maker, and present
My true account, lest he returning chide;
“Doth God exact day-labour, light denied?”
I fondly ask. But patience, to prevent
That murmur, soon replies, “God doth not need
Either man’s work or his own gifts; who best
Bear his mild yoke, they serve him best. His state
Is Kingly. Thousands at his bidding speed
And post o’er Land and Ocean without rest:
They also serve who only stand and wait.”