From this valley

Time to stop sleeping through the job, meg.

Life has been full the past few weeks. By the time the kitchen is cleaned and babies in bed, my mind buzzes with all the things I should write and my body buckles under the fatigue of long summer days. I go to sleep promising those buzzing things an audience the next day and then it all repeats itself again.

I haven't been writing enough. I should be here three times a week. Who says? That same voice that tells me to return my shopping carts and turn off the a/c when I am leaving the house. I am compelled to do better. So this week I am taking some time to get ahead of all the thoughts and needs and wants. I am writing about sex, modesty, womanhood, motherhood, marital strife and joy, funny moments and childhood embarrassments. Next week this blog and I will be ready. It will be the kind of week that voice tells me I should have.

In the meantime, I am grateful. Ten years ago, I could not have pictured my life in purple walls with people I love. Yesterday, we made tacos and rice and beans for dinner. The rice and beans steamed and bubbled away when my parents and grandpa pulled up to the house. I watched out the window while my girls bounced at the door and squealed delight. My breath caught and my eyes watered as those three people I love so dearly climbed the steps to my house. I will not have them forever. Someday, I will look out the window for that car, for those hearts and they won't be there. That realization grows deeper and more cutting as I get older. But last night, last night I had them. And my goodness, if that isn't a reason to look up to the sky and shout praise, I don't know what is.

A little song to go along with my big gratitude. From this valley, I can see the light. And that, today, is enough.