We’re changing. All of us.
I walk through emerald grass dotted with fallen oak leaves; summer visually tangling with autumn. My oldest marches about with enviable, three-year old confidence. His sister is slung securely to my chest, watching from her safe perch; our little bird always peering out.
I realize how fitting it is that as we wander underneath these old trees preparing for Fall, I can see how much change we’re also experiencing.
My boy is shedding his babyhood faster each day.
My littlest is growing into herself, becoming her own person.
And me? Let’s just say I’m not the person I thought I’d be by now.
Change has a way of upending our approach to life. And as much as I resist the idea, it isn’t a bad thing. Jesus didn’t design this life to be stable. There’s always something altering our viewpoint--forcing us to reevaluate how we understand our given roles.
My perceptions on parenthood, marriage, or simply being a woman have shifted. And it’s all looked a lot like letting go.
Letting go of what I thought my body would look like at age 28.
Letting go of trying to control who I want my husband and children to be and embracing who they are.
Letting go of hoping for the perfect house and working to creating a home instead.
May I find beauty in the act of release, this becoming aware to all God has in store for us right now.
Open my soul to see You here, Lord.
As we continue to walk, I run my palm along the curve on my baby’s spine, she nestles into my chest. The arms of the trees above us sway in the wind. Soon they’ll look different. Some would say empty.
I would say their letting go opens up the earth to see more of the sky.