Thursday, December 29, 2011

Bigger Picture Moment: Here Goes My Heart

11:38 PM

We are wrapped in an incomplete darkness, soft and warm.  The thinnest sliver of white light is slicing from the closet door.  Landon is heavy in the cradle of my arms while he sleeps through a midnight feeding, slow and deliberate, if not fully aware. 

From the hallway, the low hum of the heater keeps the night from falling into silence -- the constancy of air rushing through vents and rumbling through coils. 

We are in a cocoon of a nighttime moment.

My head tips back onto the pink upholstered chair, and I close my eyes, thinking.

It seems like nobody is reading my blog lately.  Barely any comments -- but I can't complain about that because I haven't been reading many blogs either.  Rarely leaving comments of my own.  And I feel like I'm trying to write for an audience.  I don't want to write for an audience.  It stunts my natural flow.  I want to write for myself.  To record our lives.  To tell stories.  To enjoy the creation.  But even if I don't want the purpose of my writing to be for an audience, I still -- honestly -- thrive on the feedback.  Sigh.  

I guess I know the reason for the lack of feedback.  The lack of connection.  I'm not doing much with blogging.  I'm sitting stale.  I'm too enmeshed in other areas to focus much attention on writing.  I'm reading novels.  I'm watching movies at night.  I'm trying to make this Christmas break fun for the kids.  I'm trying to soak up every moment with my baby.  Before he's not a baby anymore. 

What's that saying?  'Wherever your efforts go, There, too, goes your heart?'  'Where your time goes, there goes your heart?' 

Whatever the specifics are, that's where I am right now.  My time is going in different directions.  It's okay.  I'll find forward motion again, enough for blogging and living all at once.  But here goes my heart...

I look down at my sweet boy's eyelashes, resting on his round cheeks.  His fist clenched around the neckline of my tank top.  His legs bunched up between my hip and the chair's arms. 
Here goes my heart.  Here is where my current efforts must lie.  Here, and with the big girls sleeping in the next room, sprawled across their beds and tangled in their blankets. 

Here, and in the living room, with my husband.  With his arm wrapped around my shoulders as we sink into the couch after an exhausting bed time routine.  Here, and lying in bed, talking long past the time we should be asleep.  Laughing at the antics of our children.  Wondering about the future.  Planning.

And my writing is still whispering around the edges of my effort; it will always be there. Sometimes more dormant than others.   Never gone, always wished for.   Sometimes usurped.   And the other issues -- the more selfish, pride-gratifying issues of readership and comments and everything else -- can be dealt with later.

My heart doesn't have the extra strength to go there right now.  For now, it will be here: rocking a baby and tickling a preschooler and dreaming with a kindergartner and kissing a husband.  And that is the perfect amount of enough.

We're seeing the Bigger Picture through simple moments -- moments that force us to stop and take notice of the ways our worlds are important, meaningful, and beautiful. Please join us at Hyacynth's place today! Grab the button, link up, and read a few others to encourage them as they walk this journey of intentional living.


  1. sounds like the perfect place to be. :)

    Blogging has such an ebb and flow, huh? I know when you do write, your words make me smile and comfort me. When you don't write, I assume you are buried in family life. Both awesome places. :)

  2. You can't rely on comments to know who is reading your blog. I've been a regular since I heard about your writing at Dani's wedding. You help me focus on the positive things when I find myself noticing nothing but a messy house and a sleep deprived toddler. Glad your family is all healthy again to ring in the New Year! Lindsay Ditto ;)

  3. I miss you. I miss all your stories and your insights, and I miss my daily glimpses at your family, but the fact is you're right where you should be these days. Blogging can wait. Your readers will come back (I suspect they aren't as absent as you think) and, like you said, you'll always have your writing. Just rest assured, the blogging world misses you!

  4. I currently feel the same way. I've been so focused on living that I've neglected the connection with blogging. I've read comments and I've responded in my head, but not with my finger tips.

    It is ok! It is ok to take a step back and simply listen to the "whispers" (love that!) of writing and your writing IS exquisite. I always enjoy reading your stories. Don't worry about speaking to your audience. I do the same with my pictures though so I'm not one to talk.

    Thank you so much for your comment. I hesitated even writing that out. It makes me sound crazy, I know. I seriously was so worried about the anesthesia. Anxiety is a burglary on sane thoughts. Ugh!

    Anyway, your bigger picture resonates. I get it! You should not feel guilty, I'm trying not to feel that way, too.

  5. I may not always comment but I DO read :o) Keep writing, and I'll keep reading and comment more ;o)

  6. I'm always reading even if I don't comment. And no worries about sporadic blogging. You did just pop out a human being :-) Balance will come in time. For now just keep soaking up those precious moments with the little man.

  7. Echoing Brook and Alita. And also saying, oh, yes. I'm there, too.

  8. You said it all so well. My heart is going so many places (and my brain in a million others) and I miss the connection in bloggyland, but I thrive on my connections with my girls and my guy, and what little I have left is spent in the million other decisions and plans that fill this month. And so often, even when I do read, I'm not commenting. And my own storytelling feels off.
    When the world feels to full, I remember there is time enough for everything essential. Maybe not right this moment. Meanwhile, enjoy where you are.

  9. I know how you feel. When I write for an audience, it seems noone "hears" me. When I write for myself, paradoxically, it seems I attract readers.

    Sigh. What is real right now is the loving embrace of your family. Writing is a gift that comes and goes, yes?

    Merry Christmas.

  10. I'm a better listener, that's why I don't comment much. I do agree with the others, you are right where you need to be.

  11. I love what all these previous commenting lovelies have said. I love how you wrote such a beautiful picture of where you are right now. I love how much grace there is, you for yourself and your readers for you too. There are certainly seasons of life where we have more time for hobbies and passions, and then the seasons for loving the little ones. And the husbands. :) Thank you for doing it all, at the right times.

  12. Interestingly, though it may feel that life consumes your time and energy pulling you away from writing it is the way you live your life being fully engaged in mothering and marriage and living an upright and faithful existence that makes your writing so rich. So rock that baby, chat with those girls to gain insight, and love that man. Then drop in from time to time to share what you have learned. It is great stuff!

  13. Ah, you can really make "I really want to blog but I feel torn with everything going on in life" sound so pretty and poetic! ;) Wish I had been blessed with an ounce of your creative whimsical talent for writing!
    I am reading...and nursing...and nursing some more...but your words are a bright spot on my phone during the wee hours of the morning!


Hmm...And how did that make you FEEL?