I’ve Missed You

We meet again. Words to a keyboard, thoughts on a blank canvas we call a blog.

“I’ve missed you,” are words I naturally want to write at the beginning of this entry. Is it the words I miss or is it the freedom that comes when a verbal processor such as myself finds herself ready to write again.

And why is that, you think? What is the gravitational pull to write to an unknown audience I don’t even know exists and don’t know even care. I don’t know.

I believe that’s exactly what this entry is about.

On this side of a blog entry is a hopeful blogger believing someone would not just read-- but listen. What’s even more beautiful is the release of expectation; the thief of hope.

Nevertheless, it’s alright.

I’d like to bring you along my road we’ll call healing. It’s not perfect. It’s not neatly polished, it’s just my road. I’ve excepted her and I think I may be at a place where this road less traveled, hard and desolate, is actually a place I call home.

The second half of my life is coming up quick! I see it in the wrinkles on my face. I feel it in my necessity to stretch every morning. I embody it when I look at myself in a mirror. We’re grown ups now.

Does that mean anything? We’re grown ups now?

I wish the answer was yes. Yes, we’re grown up’s now and yes, the year we were born confirms that. Yet, sadly, the value of having lived experiences doesn’t translate the same for all grown ups. We know this, right? Some of us are still learning. Some of us are still growing, and this my friends is beautiful. We should all be growing.

Question: How does one reconcile with knowing better (lived experience) therefore doing better?

I’m living in the tension that although there’s so much we know better about (ex. our health, finances, daily practices and disciplines) we struggle with “being” better.

As a parent, the way I parented my oldest compared to his little brother, is very different. As a parent I sit in the tension that I didn’t do A LOT of things right with my first born. I acknowledge this.

This acknowledgment however, makes me aware of how I can do better for my second born, and lastly my youngest. I desire to be better.

I’ve just given you an example of being better for others. Would we say that it’s simpler to be better for the sake of others or is it easier to be better for yourself?

There are things I wish I could snap my fingers and become, like a genius or have a six pack! I’m neither a genius or have a six pack in case you’re wondering.

I struggle with not always doing better although I know better when it comes to myself.

The part of being better for the sake of others, this tugs at my heart.

Being better for others costs us something. My life bears witness of the lengths I’d go for my children. I think the majority of people who may read this, the conviction is the same. We desire to “be” better for the generations that comes after us. Our why is simple-- OUR kids.

Leaning more into that, what about the kids that aren’t ours? Are we moved to be better for them? And what about our kids friends or the kids you pass in the halls, or in your neighborhood, mall or church? What about their mom? They’re families? Do they merit us being better for? Or is the desire just for own?

There’s a responsibility to knowing better.

I mentioned earlier about this road of healing I’m on. My truth? I’m trying really hard not to shut the world out and move to a deserted island somewhere! Earth is ghetto :) (that’s an actual song, look it up).

Yet there’s a beauty on this road less traveled I’m on that I’m starting to call home.

Sometimes, it’s lonely, I won’t lie. I think I’m finding myself writing a blog entry because my soul is longing for home;

Vulnerability is hard. Place that in the hands of others one desperately wished better would be the default yet wasn’t or isn’t, that’s hard. Really hard.

Yet again, even still, there’s joy. Joy in the truth although at times painful. Joy in the rejection that we can’t always understand. There’s joy in the hope that perhaps there are others like me who desire better for everyone, not just their own.

There’s hope in the road less traveled.

I’m growing up, but you want to know something? I’m learning that part of my knowing better is my ability to learn from children. They emulate true freedom. They aren’t jaded by life or the complicated adults around them. They’re trusting and accepting and LOVING. They forgive easy and love hard.

I’m growing up and my face says so. The road I’m on says so. Broken hearts say so. Yet, even if it feels lonely for a little while, my life is best lived when it’s for the Audience of One anyway.

Blogging, reading books and studying Bible, they have all been places of belonging to me. I find myself here again. Ready for belonging even on this road less traveled.

I sit in this. I accept it and I release it.

Selah, friends.

-Mo