[dropcap style=”font-size: 60px; color: #9b9b9b;”] T[/dropcap]ired. Weary. Worn out. Sore. Not wanting to do this anymore . . . “this” being the working, carrying a baby so low that I’m constantly uncomfortable, dealing with a tantrum throwing/emotional two year old and a smart mouthed almost 4 year old, dealing with the heat of summer, the crowded, cluttered too small house, the endless loads of laundry, the endless piles of dishes needing to be washed, the dirt that always needs scrubbed off the walls or swept off the floor, the constant “Mom, what can I eat?! Can I have candy, an ice pop, a juice pop, a sucker?,” and all the to do lists and places to go and things we have to do.

I went to my midwife appointment yesterday with my mind set to tell her that I can’t do this anymore. My back hurts, my legs hurt from baby sitting on my nerves, my bladder hurts, my belly hurts, and I can’t sleep. I get faint when I stand too long, almost pass out when I grocery shop, and just need to sleep for a week before going into labor. How am I supposed to do 9 more weeks? How am I supposed to get through the marathon of labor? All of that being really silly as I have no choice but to just do it. Being pregnant is never about me, but all about the baby that’s being formed. I’ve just been so tired . . . turns out, the tiredness is due to being very anemic, so that can be sorted out. Carrying baby low is just the way that my body carries babies, and if baby would get head down, that would help. If she would get her head out of my side, I would sleep better. And If only we could just tell her to move this way and that and stay put . . . Yet then the midwife got completely distracted by the fact that baby’s measurements are all off. She’s measuring smaller than she was two weeks ago, and the appointment just kind of went down hill from there. We’ve had so many talks of what if this and what if that, and this needs to happen by the next appointment or this will happen. It’s emotionally draining. I feel like the appointments are just becoming something that I dread. I’m just so ready to see my girl’s face as I know she’s fine. I just want to have her in my arms and be done with all the appointments and tests. Done.

And I’m just feeling done in about every area. A vacation, a big change, a something different (in a good way) is very much needed.

So for today, all I can do is put my eyes on Jesus. I turn the worship music on and just soak. I just allow Him to make all things new, to refresh, to recharge, to give me new perspective. He gives the energy to get one more meal cooked, the brain power to remember which bills are due now, the calm organization needed to get everyone to where they need to go throughout the day, the patience and love needed to deal with little ones and all their needs, and the hope that there is joy somewhere within all the monotony of dishes, laundry, cleaning, working, and messes everywhere. He brings us alive if we let Him. There is joy and strength in Him if we’ll allow Him to fill us up, and for me, that always consists of setting my mind on Him and what He’s done. As always, it’s all about Him and refreshing comes from time spent with Him, even if it’s while washing dishes or folding the laundry.

It’s always like springtime with You, making all things new
Your light is breaking through the dark
This love it is sweeter than wine
Bringing joy, bringing life
Your hope is rising like the dawn

This is what You do, this is what You do
You make me come alive
This is what You do, this is what You do
You make me come alive
You make me come alive, You make me come alive
This Is What You Do by Bethel Music

Leaving you with a very cute picture of my second son. We took the boys to a farm/petting zoo over the long weekend, and E was cuter than a bug . . . the highlight of the day was feeding the sheep and their babies. And my firstborn did so well and got some comfortable with the lambs that I was amazed to see how sweet and loving he was with them. Maybe sheep are in our future? Someday when we’re living in the north of France and have enough land to own some sheep . . . you know, someday . . . 😉

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