February rocked me like I’m not sure anything has before. Moments, memories and reminders of the past came knocking and I stood there at the door completely surprised by their arrival. I didn’t realise becoming a full-time School Mum, would require so much emotion and intention. I kind of expected a quick transition, lots of cafe time and a whole heap of silence.
Have transitions like this ever left you reeling?
Unsure of who you can trust and what is fact versus the rolling hills of movement and change.
March found me human again and each day I have been unpacking what it means to walk my family through difficult seasons of change.
We have all been there. The seasons when we would rather stay in bed. When the thought of showing up for our friends and family is overwhelming. We send sharp replies over text, we pull away hoping our closest people don’t notice and more than ever we seek comfort in the mundane.
My husband and I have been reviewing our intentions in this season around the sacredness of space and safety in our home. Creating rhythms that keep our fortress safe and knowing that once again we will rise.
This sounds so very intense, but maybe my little being away from me five days a week has created the space that I required to really unpack the pain left dormant from the past. Maybe facing my primary school once again every day has confronted my forty-year-old self, with thoughts from my five-year-old self. And maybe giving myself permission to fall apart when my little person doesn’t need me as much anymore.
Today as we drove home from school in the rain and my mind swirling with questions, I remembered the foundation that my little home is built on.
Allowing ourselves to unpack and recover,
And Kind Words.
Cuddles and Candles.
Soft, Gentle Words,
Faces and Eyes that Smile.
Sorry’s that tumble quickly,
And tallies of wrongs not counted.
Just like my Father in whom I trust and rely upon. When people confuse me and let me down, He is my fortress, He is my deliverer.
He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High Will abide in the shadow of the Almighty. I will say to the LORD, “My refuge and my fortress, My God, in whom I trust!”
In these days when we find it difficult to know which way to turn and how to recover from the weight of our season. What if we created a fortress, full of light and love?
What if those closest to us, became our hiding place, rather than the people we hurt with our words?
What if encouragement became the bedrock of our homes, building up, rather than tearing down?
What if we were the ones that made our homes the safest places on earth?