Because I’ve committed to September, at least.  Committed to praying and resting and asking Father what is next for me in this new season when all the Smalls are in school and I find myself with days of my own.  Which is a bit misleading, actually, as there is still laundry and errands and the million minutia that make up a family.  But for 15 lovely, long years I’ve thrown myself into being home and it’s been such a gift.  Much as I’ve complained at times, it’s been such a gift.  But now they are all in school.  All blessed six of them and so I spent the first week doing what every exhausted and newly alone mother does: running errands and buying a new puppy.  But there is a plan.  To settle in here, in this my favorite of places and write and read and clean up puppy accidents and have women in to share a cuppa and pray circles around our families and ourselves.  A plan to press in when my natural bent is to head out.  Because the perfectionist in me buys so easily into the lie that my worth is tied up in what I produce and when that was evidenced by Smalls hanging off my legs, it all made sense and now that they’re gone during the day it doesn’t.  So instead of filling my hours with things that will make me busy, I’m determined to find solace in being home and pouring into people from this beautiful place.  Pouring into myself from this beautiful place with a new blog I know absolutely nothing about running.  Join me?

This is me being real.

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