Wow. It's amazing to me still what happens when people talk about women and oppression. I have so much more that I could say about this, and one day I probably will. But today I want to comment on Laurie's note on the last blog. She basically wrote that you don't always land on the path of your choosing -- (I'm paraphrasing greatly, so you'll have to go and read her shout out). She touched a chord in me and I need to expand on that.

I am an incredibly happy Mom. I love that part of my life. I never could have imagined how awesome it would be no matter how many people described it. It is a total gift. A joy. I expected motherhood to bring sacrifice and struggles (and it does), but I never could have known how little those sacrifices compared to the sheer joy of it all. I cannot explain or measure how much I love my children. I believe that I never really knew love before motherhood. It was with motherhood that I realized how little I had actually known of God (as much as I thought I did...), let alone my mother and her mother. I would never trade this life for another -- but there is so much I expected of my life that is different than what you see today. And yes, there is something disappointing in that.

In my very first blog I grappled with this very subject. (Gen, maybe you could help me do that linking thing -- I think I need a permalink here...) (If I never get it going, you can link to it in the archives at the right...) Beth grappled with it as well (another moment that link would be really helpful). And now Laurie brought it back a full circle. We are all of us in some way in a place not of our choosing. For me, God put new hopes and dreams ahead of the old ones, and I am so grateful. But the old ones didn't go away. Sometimes I forget them and wonder if I ever really had any hopes and dreams -- life keeps moving along and I get older and older...and I feel like the dreams were meant for another time and for another me.

I recall an incredibly sweet and heartbreaking moment I shared with my son. He had just turned 4. He turned his perfect cherub face to me one night and asked me out of the blue "Do you remember your Grandma?" He took me aback. She had died 7 years before. "Of course I remember my Grandma." I started to describe her to him and he interrupted me. He placed his tiny chubby hands on my cheeks and pulled my face so I was looking into his eyes. "No," he said in almost a whisper, "do you remember her face?"

I cried that night, knowing that no matter how hard I tried, I didn't really remember her face. I pulled out photos that captured moments in time, but it could never amount to who she was to me. Grief I think is like that, sneaking up on you when you are long past thinking you were susceptible.

Tonight, I am grieving again. Only now I am imagining those chubby hands on my face, looking into my eyes, asking if I remember me. The me that used to dream big and hope for things unseen. The me that met every day head on and couldn't be brought down. The me that believed that tomorrow brought nothing but new opportunities and excitement. I believe that for my kids -- I steer them toward that future -- but I feel it slipping away from me. Those chubby hands have turned into a young man's hands: strong and handsome. And as much as I love the person he is today, I grieve for the child that was.

And I guess I feel the same way about myself. I like who I am today, even though I'm different than I'd ever thought I'd be. But I grieve for the child that was. And sometimes I wonder how many of my dreams were ever meant to be mine.

Tonight I keep hearing Isa 40: 27-31 (Why do you say, O Jacob, and complain, O Israel, "My way is hidden from the Lord; my cause is disregarded by my God"? Do you not know? Have you not heard? The Lord is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth. He will not grow tired or weary, and his understanding no one can fathom. He gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak. Even youths grow tired and weary, and young men stumble and fall; but those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.)

---Lord, I feel pretty stupid and ungrateful when I admit I am disappointed in my awesome life. My faith is so weak: I feel like I hear you and know your promises, but then I vacillate and don't believe I really ever knew anything. Lord help us to sort through our hopes and dreams. Please keep them alive in us. My busy life exhausts me --- but what really makes me weary is waiting on You. How impatient I must seem to You! Be the lifter of my head. Set my eyes on you. Life is hard. Waiting is harder. But going anywhere without you is worse. Steady me, Lord. Direct me. And give me hope. Thank you so much for your goodness to me, despite myself.--