On Creatively Exercising
A moment, if you please.

This Season

image from www.flickr.com

Photo: iPhone.  Our 12yo son and 14yo daughter, playing badminton in our back yard.

The pregnancy and toddler season was physically exhausting and I'm sure I lost brain cells for lack of adult conversation for a few years there (bless the poor, poor WalMart cashier who innocently started up a conversation with chat-starved me). 

The early elementary season was mentally exhausting as I learned how to teach.  That season was also full of beautiful memories, of mostly at-home days, baking together, nature journaling, creating hilarious clay faces, and going to the beach without notice (to anyone, even ourselves). 

This season, the middle-of-child-raising while they're-half-independent-half-not is the most exhausting of any season I've lived so far.  I'm physically tired from all the go-go-going, but not as tired as in those toddler days.  I'm mentally fatigued, sure, but not in the way I was in the elementary season. 

Mostly, this season, I'm soul-fatigued.  I can feel the world tugging at our older children with strength equal to my own.  I can sense the passing presence of the devil as he "roams to and fro throughout the earth, seeking whom he may devour."  I daily feel my soul stir with warnings and conscience-pricks and convictions.  "Teach this child that," it says.  "Let that go," it whispers another day. 

"It's hard work being a parent,"  I say to Tim.

"I know," he says.  

We sigh.

Then we carry on.

I pray. 

I listen to my on-my-knees playlist. 

I hear.

I watch.

And I put one foot in front of the other, trusting that God will help me through this beautiful... unbelievably beautiful, incredibly hard, unforgettably wonderful season of raising teenagers.