Sometimes you stumble across a blog and you just love it, and that is what has happened with me and The Lumberjack’s Wife. Taylor always has a way of making me laugh, usually at her expense, but still. I really, really like her.
She keeps it real on her blog, documenting life in the middle ‘o’ nowhere with four kids, a bunch of bunnies, and a dog she calls “Lucy-fur”. I don’t know how she handles all that excitement and still finds time to cook elk meat with a sense of humor, but she does it all with grace and wit and wisdom. I’m not the only person who thinks she is wonderful, her blog has been nominated for Babble’s Top 50 Mom Blogs. Below you will find Taylor’s wise, funny words. For more from Taylor, check out The Lumberjack’s Wife and follow her on Facebook.
When JoAnn asked me to write a post with the theme, “God is good, in spite of _______,” I was honored, because I love JoAnn’s blog. I find her writing to be beautiful, touching, and hilarious all at the same time. But I have been struggling with how to write this post, knowing it would be never be as beautifully written as JoAnn would make it.
(JoAnn the Editor’s note: HA!)
Bear with me.
Growing up, I always thought I would do something fantastic with my life. In middle school, I dreamed of being a writer. Then the day came when two boys got a hold of my journal and teased me endlessly for A) having a journal and B) my use of the word measly.
I still maintain that measly is a fantastic word.
Later on, I apparently became full of myself and decided maybe I had the chance at being a model or something of that nature.
(my sister, mom, and me)
Here are my glamour shots. Don’t be jealous.
You can understand why I felt modeling was in my future.
That dream died once I overheard a classmate shout: “When Taylor walks into a room wearing a red dress, everyone runs away and yells ‘Kool-Aid Man!’”
It’s something I’ve obviously never gotten over.
Next, I went through a phase where I wanted to be a Senator. Senators can be plump, so it would be a good fit for me. I wanted to live in a city. I wanted to be a world-class pianist. I wanted to have my name in history books. I wanted to be someone.
I am now thirty years old. I have not accomplished any of the goals I had once set out to do. I struggle with a restlessness in my heart, a sort of panic that overtakes me when I remind myself that I am, in fact, thirty, and have accomplished nothing.
All the days seem to merge together.
There are dishes to be washed . . .
messes to be picked up . . .
and don’t EVEN get me started on the laundry.
The days are long, but the years are quick.
When did my babies grow up?
Now, I can say this: God is good, in spite of me.
Me and my selfishness, impatience, and crankiness. Me and my insecurities and my restlessness.
Even though I didn’t come up with this plan for my life, He did. I am right where I need to be, accomplishing something fantastic . . . raising my four, healthy children.
I am blessed because of it.
Oh, the days are not easy. I’ve had my share of poo and vomit, tantrums and fits, hitting and screaming.
And let’s not forget the “joys” that homeschooling brings.
Being a mother and a wife is what I do, it is the role that God has placed me in. I am not here to please others, I am not here to impress anyone.
God has taught me in the past few years that life is not about me.
I know. I found it to be a shock, too.
Even though my daily tasks can seem boring or meaningless, I am making an impression on my children and those around me.
I am serving the Lord, and that is the best job one can have.
“Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moth and rust do not destroy and where thieves to not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” –Matthew 6:19-21
So, here I am. Thirty years old. I have accomplished nothing that I thought I would, but I am blessed beyond words.
I have a husband who loves me and thinks the world of me. I have four healthy children who can make me want to wring their necks and lovingly hold on to them tight all in the same moment. I get to raise them, watch them grow, help them learn, and just . . . be with them.
Yes. God is good . . . in spite of me.