Lost

No, not the show.

I'm sure a lot of my lady friends can commiserate with my feeling of being lost lately. Not lost in the physical sense. I know exactly where I am. Not lost in the spiritual sense either. I know exactly where I'm going. But lost in the personal sense.

Somewhere between getting married and becoming a mom to three beautiful kiddos, I have lost a big part of myself. I don't know when it happened, so I assume it's been a gradual occurrence. But here I am, 32 years old, and not sure what I want to be or do. I feel, well, lost.

I am a wife and mother. I'm a servant of the Lord. I'm a daughter, a sister, a neighbor, a friend. But how can I be just me when I'm so many things to so many people?

I posed this question to myself yesterday as I stared at the blank blog page here. I started this blog because I LOVE to write. I need to write. God made me a writer and it stirs my soul to put words on paper. But as I looked around my house at the piles of displaced toys, stacks of papers, unwashed dishes, and semi-hungry, bored children, I had to make a decision. Do I write or do I take care of the million other things that need my attention? Sadly, I didn't write.

I thought that an earlier bedtime/wake time would solve this problem. So after Big A and I put the kids to bed at 8:30, I hopped in the shower, put my pajamas on and settled in for a 9:30 bedtime. My alarm clock was set for 5:30 the next morning - plenty of time to have a meaningful meeting with the Lord, an opportunity to write and a short workout before my real day begins. But at 9:30, my husband needed me. Not for anything in particular, but just to hold hands on the couch while we talked about our day. He gets less of me than anyone, so when he asks for my time, I always oblige. As a couple, we're under a lot of stress right now due to some unusual circumstances, so we needed this time. As I tumbled into bed at 11, I realized my 5:30 wake-up call was a mere 6.5 hours away and not reasonable. I can't be grumpy all day when I have a toddler to chase, so I reset the alarm and prayed that I'd come up with a solution today.

I have a few friends who seem so fulfilled to me. And what sets them apart from me is that they also have interests outside of their families. One is a budding photographer. One is an avid scrapbooker. One has an intense career. One spends an insane amount of time at the gym (but has a rockin' body to show for it). But the common denominator is that they make time for themselves. They have no qualms about letting the house go, or ordering pizza every now and then because they realize the importance of staying in touch with their own interests. Even my husband wants me to follow my heart and write, so the only one stopping me is (surprise) me.

I'm just starting to realize how very important this is, and I'm thinking that as with anything, I will have to find a balance. Maybe sometimes the dishes will have to wait while I write, or sometimes my writing will have to wait for the laundry. Maybe I'll just have to go to Target occasionally, alone, to clear my head while everyone else eats dinner. Would it really hurt any of us? I think not.

So there I have it. This little martyr deal is not working for me any longer. Giving up what I love every.single.time isn't fair to anyone and is only creating discontentment in my heart. How can I be all things to everyone if I'm not being me to me?

For the last 20 minutes, the dust has accumulated, the dishes have soaked in the sink and the phone hasn't been answered. But I have been soothed. And my home and family haven't suffered one bit.