Birth of a Blog

I have been reeling with thoughts and aching to write, mostly for cathartic release, I think, but finding the time has been difficult. The world of motherhood I’ve entered has entirely different laws than the one I knew before. It demands that I lose my “self” and the egotistical ways that once served me. I am no longer my own; my energy and time is dominated by another. I am at the mercy of the whims of a 14-month-old named Jonah. He dictates my days.

I, a lover of words, have shied away from applying language to the intricacies of this season for reasons I don’t fully understand. It seems the deeper me- the one who applies meaning to the mundane and ascribes a sense of purpose to my days- has been buried under a mound of dirty diapers (or drowning in breast milk). I have felt more lost than found in this world. It has taken much longer to reorient my senses than I ever assumed it would.

Solitude, a state I relish and once abundantly knew, seems only to find me in the wee hours of the night. My body and mind are weary from a day full of demand, yet an ache in my soul for the quiet keeps me awake. And on this night, I write. Not only write but birth a blog whose sole purpose is to provide a place to process the splendor and dysfunction of my days and ultimately glimpse Divine purpose in it all . . .