The Ordinary Life

I recently stumbled across a picture of my life. I saw it in a song, an image, and words. I sat there kind of stunned, looking at it. I read about it then stared at it some more; I listened. It wasn't at all about the superficials in the picture that made me pause, it was everything that it didn't say out loud, from the implicit details to the music that sang from it. Then I realized that I wasn't looking at my life at all; that life belonged to someone else.

I love being a mom, but sometimes my identity feels disjointed. Yes, I am a mother and I cherish that part of my life. But before becoming a mom my identity was comprised of other things and other dreams. Many of those things were also good. I guess maybe what I'm trying to say is that I don't always know how to morph the "Michelle before Penelope" and the "Michelle after Penelope." At times it's like I hang on to one and not the other, namely that of being a mom and forget the dreams of before. (Let's face it, it's easy to forget to when all I have to do is peek under my shirt at my belly full of stretchmarks and too much skin.) Then suddenly something will come across my path and remind me of the other Michelle. I confess, it comes with a little bit of sadness. It's not sad in the least to be a mom, rather, the sadness comes from feeling like my twenties never got to finish telling their story.

In high school I read a book called, Addicted to Mediocrity, by Frank Schaeffer. He argued that Christians should be the leaders and innovators in the arts, but instead we succumb to mediocrity and stick a Bible verse on it (creativity) and say that it's for the glory of God. Looking back at it I'm not sure if the book was superbly written but his point took root in my very core. From that point on I determined that my life would be about making music that truly reflected the beauty of God. I was going to do something BIG for God. In essence, my life would be filled with meaning and deeply significant, something out of the ordinary.

Well, my life seems pretty ordinary these days. It resembles nothing of the picture I saw recently. Changing lots of messy diapers can do that to a person. Or walking around the mall without your baby and to find out once and ONLY you got home that you had snot smeared on several different places on the clothes that you only THOUGHT you looked cute in. Or getting ready for a wedding and realizing that you only have one pair of jeans that fits (this word is used very loosely here, it's more like "able to put on") that you wear every single day. Or realizing for the hundredth time that you forgot to brush your hair as your pretty friends talk about their hair routine. Or hearing yourself talk and sounding like a broken record, "eat, poop, sleep." Let me tell you something, that can make any person's life feel very ordinary. Yet I know all the right things people would tell me. "Your life is significant and full of meaning, you are raising a daughter. There's nothing more important than that, etc." I would agree. I would never change the part of being a mom. I guess I want my life as it it right now PLUS doing something significant for others that has eternal value.

I guess, the bottom line is that being a mom doesn't always feel like enough. It seems wrong to say it that way. Yet it also seems wrong to say that all other desires, dreams and giftings should be put on hold indefinitely. I don't know how to weld it all together and make a "cohesive Michelle."

What seems very right to say is that this post is getting very long and I need to stop. More later...