Friday, March 26, 2010

Life, One Way or Another

It's been hard to write on here lately. The details of daily life seem inconsequential when there are still so many big questions hanging open; and with the big questions hanging open, there seems little to say. Or perhaps it's that I feel unjustified in talking about our life until we are really getting on with it.

It's easy to feel outside the proper scope of grownup human existence without the usual trappings of a job and a house to talk about. It's easy to doubt the decisions we've made and hard to continue talking about our goals when the only definite thing to say is: not there yet. Still trying.

Indeed, I've noticed in myself a tendency to hold back even in thankfulness for things that happen: unwilling to be thankful for the blossom until I've seen the fruit full ripe. After all, some of those blossoms will never bear fruit. A late freeze might kill them all.

But now is our life. Spring is something to be grateful for whether or not autumn ever comes. If it does come (as it nearly always does), then what will be the good of having wasted spring with doubts and regrets? And if it doesn't, then why not have enjoyed spring while it lasted?

The other night I was talking with DOB and asked if we had bitten off more than we could chew. And then we started laughing, because the image that now brings to our minds is D4 trying to eat pancakes: Cramming an entire pancake in at once so that half of it is still hanging out, stretching out his empty, cinnamon-smeared hands to show that he's ready for more.

Yeah, maybe we have. Maybe trying to start over at this age and weakness with this many kids was crazy. But we've done crazy things before, and we'll do them again. Somehow D4 manages to get those monstrous wads of pancake down, and somehow we'll find a way to make this work, or the next thing work, or the thing after that. And then we'll probably try something else new and crazy.

If I'm waiting for life to settle down and everything to make sense before I enjoy it or write about it, I'm going to be waiting an awfully long time.


Carrie said...

I hear you there.

And I do hope you'll keep writing here. Because the adventure you are on right now is rather unique and I'm almost morbidly curious about it. =)

Aaron Klein said...

I agree with Carrie's comment, and I'll add one more: so far in our nine years of married life, we have an exceedingly large number of "not there yet, still trying" moments.

In fact, I can't remember a time when we haven't had that in at least one part of our lives. (Admittedly, you probably have that in a few more areas right now.)

The lyrics of "Miracle Of The Moment" are a good reminder:

"We are who and where and what we are for now / and this is the only moment we can do anything about / so breathe it in, and breathe it out / listen to your heart beat / there's a wonder in the here and now / it's right there in front of you / don't want you to miss the miracle of this moment."

Wendy said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Wendy said...

Bravo! God is the great I AM, the eternal now, and I think He must love to see us rejoice in our own here and now.

awedmanor said...

You are building a structure, of your lives and your kids' lives. Every day is another brick. Keep on using quality bricks, even though they might be a different color, or if you don't know what the structure will turn out to be.

Use the time to reflect, to plan, to build up strength. Only God knows what's next. We know the result, but don't know the path we will take to get there.

I do get the general impression, though, that when things change they will get exciting.


EB said...

I love the image of D4 inhaling pancake. I really, really relate to that. Even when life is full, I want more. And I want it now.

Be warned of your tendency to believe of the inconsequentiality of your current life: once you do arrive at the Next Big Thing, you'll only believe it inconsequential again because, well, ho-hum, it's become normality.