Excuse me Ma'am, but there's a giant wet spot on your shirt

I remember there was a day when a stained shirt would mean an outfit change. No question. Now a stain elicits close examination and comparison of both color and texture to determine whether the shirt remains suitable for wear. If the spit up closely resembles the shade of the shirt, no harm done! Carry on. If not, I might consider a new top, if I remember to change it before I get called to the next task AND if there happens to be any other options clean. This would explain why you've seen me sporting shades of cream and white an awful lot lately. A girls gotta do what a girls gotta do.

Last night the kids and I walked the short jaunt to the grocery store, the girls on foot, Jack strapped to my front. At one point, I recall thinking my stomach felt much warmer than the second before but the moment was fleeting and so was soon forgotten. It wasn't until we returned home and I removed the baby from the Ergo that I noticed a giant wet spot across my abdomen. I kid you not, my first reaction was "Oh well! It'll dry." And it wasn't like we were spending the evening alone at home. We were heading off to Community Group where Graham and I would converse, yes even facilitate, discussion with other adults and I was totally cool with showing up with half my front saturated in urine. Funny how things change.

I'm not going to lie. This having three kids thing has been no walk in the park. If we've made it look easy (as a few have accused us of doing), I'd invite you to come past the threshold and spend a little time behind our walls. Probably only three minutes would pass before you saw the true chaos and craziness that is our life. I'm exhausted. I miss leaving the house. I want to be home more. I miss dating my husband. I miss being alone. I long to spend more time fully engaged with each of my kids. I am constantly wrestling an inner voice that tells me I'm not measuring up. All these desires both contradict and intertwine with each other, leaving me dizzy and confused. 

Yesterday my wise husband reiterated words we've often heard preached from the pulpit by our dear Pastor Richard. He urges us to "keep showing up." Keeping showing up at work. Keep showing up at home. Keep showing up with your spouse, with your kids. Keep showing up in prayer and in scripture. Some days feel like total drudgery. And yes, sometimes our efforts and hard-fought-for endeavors seem to only come up empty. We cry out and the answer is silence. But today I take heart (and I hope you will too) in this reminder to keep showing up. Though at times it takes every ounce of energy I have left, I know that the Lord is at work and I pray that He would use me as His vessel where I am, even in the trying, tiring season of life.