Let's be transparent today. Yesterday was one of those days that cost me something. Every 2 weeks or so I reach my momentary limit. I work hard, friends. Like really really hard. I have long lists that sometimes get shuffled around too much. I can't always respond to my emails or blog comments for a week or two. I often miss out on silly things with my kids.
I love my job(s). I honestly do. I'm never more fulfilled than when I'm interacting with people, creating designs and websites for clients, putting together the content for The Light Banner, spending endless hours on my trusty MacBook Pro, teaching yoga and doing the crazy amount of work it takes to keep The Little Way running. If I were to give you a list of what happens in one day of my life, you might back.slowly.away. I get it. I probably would too.
Glennon at Momastry says that life is brutiful. It's both brutal and beautiful. Sometimes I wonder if I'm a teensy bit crazy, swinging from one moment to the next. But then I land on truth. I'm just brutiful like the rest of humanity. I swing because some days are really easy. Sometimes I'm motivated and steady, knocking things off my list like a beast. And some days are really hard. I often crumble into hard days. I get tired and overwhelmed. The weight of what I'm doing, and who depends on me (i.e. little people who must eat), can crush me. Maybe it should... at least for a moment. Maybe I need to be reminded that what I'm doing is important, that someday Judah will read all of these posts and realize that he wasn't just the often overlooked middle kid. He was loved in a fierce way. He was loved enough for me to show up every day and do my job. Someday, when Aravis is older and losing her artistic willpower, maybe she'll settle in here and find her creative voice again. Maybe she'll remember that what feeds our souls doesn't always feed our bellies, but that doesn't mean it's not worth doing.
And maybe it means something to you too. Because you keep showing up. You keep reading and engaging and entering in. Which means you're brutiful too.
I show up on hard days, friends, because you are sitting in the crashing waves of my own art. I couldn't NOT show up. This is where I become an artist. This is where all of the fragmented pieces of my tired heart come together and resolve to press on. I don't get paid to do The Little Way. Millions of people don't follow what I do and affirm me every step of the way (cause that happens...). But, even if no one else showed up to read, I'd still show up to write.
And that's as transparent as one girl can be on a Wednesday. So, let's press on. Let's live out the fullness of our brutiful lives. And let's hope that today is a new canvas.