I love this space — this little piece of the interwebs occupied by my blog. And for the past several months, I’ve posted less here and have really missed it. I’ve certainly missed the chance to regularly share things that bring me joy and to connect with you all. I’ve also missed using this space to keep record of some of life’s precious moments.
But I had a baby. A second baby, at that. And adjusting to life with two small kids was not easy. There were many nights when I would sit down to write or edit photos, and the desire for sleep overpowered all of my ambitions. Pushing through the fatigue — though it would allow me to be present here — felt like it would have been detrimental to my physical and mental health, my marriage, and my ability to enjoy my new phase of motherhood.
It also felt like it would have been inauthentic — something I strive for this blog not to be, because for goodness sake, we all know there’s already plenty of that on the internet. How could I devote hours to this space, when I was barely keeping up on text messages and phone calls with my closest family and friends?
So I couldn’t do this thing that I loved and wanted to do very badly.
And this was hard. For months, I’ve had so many ideas swirling around in my head, and to not get to bring them to life was really frustrating. And there were times when I looked around, and it felt like I must be the only person who couldn’t figure out how to do all the things — the relationship stuff, the parenting stuff, the friend stuff, the daughter stuff, the professional stuff, the life maintenance stuff.
These days, I think those of us living in the Western world are consistently fed a narrative that all the things we want are attainable. We just need to grit our teeth, grind it out, get organized, and stay consistent. Most of us are focused on producing more, achieving more, getting more efficient. We’re striving for bigger, better, faster, stronger. We hate limits.
And while I think it’s true that hard work and determination generally breed results, it seems the part people tend to leave out of this “go hard” narrative is — to what end? It’s incredibly easy and intoxicating to get caught up on the achievements, the growth, the accolades, all while failing to recognize that in life, there are always trade-offs. And that all of us were created with limits.
A few months ago I read a book called Liturgy of the Ordinary by Tish Harrison Warren, and she puts it this way:
“…Every evening, whether we like it or not, we must admit again that we are not unlimited. Our bodies get tired. Our efforts prove futile. We are needy. Yielding to sleep confesses this reality: a confession that is countercultural and revolutionary. We are not sufficient; we need a caretaker.”
What if we did the countercultural thing and embraced our limitations? For me, this has meant needing to let go of my fears that if I took a break from being in this space that people would stop wanting to hear from me. (You know, that whole “out of sight, out of mind” thing.) For me, it has meant pushing through the resistance I feel in trying to get back in the groove after falling out of the rhythm of writing regularly.
But for me, embracing my limitations has also led me to clarify my priorities — to figure out what I really want to give myself to if I truly am working with limited time, energy, and resources. Embracing my limitations has slowly freed me up from the pressure of needing to produce more and allowed me to enjoy the special season of parenthood that I’m in. And embracing my limits has forced me to test what I say I believe: that God’s will for my life is greater than my greatest efforts.
I’m starting to see how my limits can be for my benefit. And on that note, I’m going to bed.