a slump.

i've been in a slump.

i looked up slump in the dictionary, well, dictionary.com, and it says it means to fall or sink suddenly.

that's what's happened.  i've been falling and sinking, and though there are so SO many good things going on, and so MANY good moments happening, the sinking is still happening too.

one could call it post partum stuff, or maybe it has to do with my low iron + a baby who is waking up every 2-3 hours for almost 5 months now, or my ever worrying mind about my decreasing milk supply, or maybe it's my toddler that stretches me so thin i feel like i'll break.  maybe it's all those things.  regardless of what you want to call it, anxiety, depression, exhaustion, or a slump?.... it's consuming and some days, it takes everything i have just to make it through the day.

i can sit here and list what i'm grateful for. and the list would pour onto the floor.
it would overflow with abundance of gifts and blessings and love and support.
it would make me feel good, and it does.

but then something happens when the baby cries and i can't get him to fall asleep and the toddler spills all the crackers on the floor, steps on them, and then screams at me because he's hungry.  something happens when i look around in this house, and though we've lived here for almost 5 months, it still doesn't quite feel like home.  something happens when i watch the clock and it ticks so slowly until my mr leif gets home at 6pm.  something happens when i try to leave the house and the baby screams in the car, which makes the toddler scream in the car, which makes me want to cry and just turn around and stay home.  something happens when i open up my tub of clothes and try on those jeans again, the ones i wore before sweet archer came, and they still don't fit, actually, nor do any of the shirts. and the scale? something happens when i step on it and it just sits at that number, never lowering, and though i can be told, "but you just had a baby 5 months ago!" it doesn't comfort me, and my unhealthy view of body image.  and something happens when think of all those things, and i get angry at myself for not handling this better, for feeling so pathetic, for letting these things consume me and swallow me.  why can't i overcome this?  i'm a believer...are christians supposed to feel this way?  and where's my joy?  that joy that's unspeakable?
and when all of those things keep happening - it makes those blessings get foggy.
it covers up my gratitude and overwhelms me with a feeling of, i can't do this.

i want to write more in this space.  i desire to write every day.
i want to pour my heart out, unleash my mind, and let my fingers flow with what's inside.
but it's not always cute.  or funny.  or worthy of publishing.
and i feel frozen when i can't be real.
if i continue to try and ignore what's going on in my heart, and just write about all the good stuff? then for me, it's not worth writing at all.
i want my children to read about my hard days too.
i want them to see that life is weary.
and i want to show that i am so so broken.

and then i want to do one thing, and one thing only, i want to point up.
to christ.

i want to share that i am struggling, and my only way out is to breathe in gulps of His living water.
i want to share that it's ok to be weak, and that it draws us closer to our Father, and when we are weak, it stirs up His compassion.
i want to share that though i am delicate, i am grounded in truth, and when your foundation is on solid ground, you will flourish.

motherhood is so refining.
marriage is work.
life is hard.

but, oh my.  oh my, oh my. it's beautiful.
it's good.
it's lovely.
it's so SO sweet.

i look at my husband and am in awe by how much love i can have for this man.
i look at my children and overwhelmed with how my heart beats for them.
and, i look at my life and even though i see so much good, i also see the bad, and together, they paint the most beautiful picture of a sinner, running and clinging to the only hope we have in our Savior.
i see his grace, and i see it pour out from the moment i hear the baby cry, to the countless times my toddler wears me thin.  he sees me weak, and weary, and he pours his grace down upon my broken attempts to mother.  and he meets me in my mess, and together, we love these children.  and together we serve my husband.

these trials that happen to us believers, they are so good. so SO good.
it's through them that we hear the Father whispering, Come to me, come to me, come...
His vast ocean of love is so big, i can not comprehend.
and when we are weary, and weak, then he is so very strong.

i'm meditating on proverbs 18:10 today,
the name of the lord is a strong tower, the righteous run to it and are safe.
amen?

>>> scenes from the leif house <<<

and, loving this