Coffee spoons

Lately, I’ve been feeling like a baby machine, maid, budget nazi, and bargain shopper… and not much of anything else.  If you asked me 3 years ago what I was and what my hobbies were, I’d say “I’m a dancer and a massage therapist, and I also play/write music and create art.”  My “art” was also expressed through my appearance (or so I tried), with dramatic hair color changes, tattoo designs, unique jewelry, and attention to maintaining my physique.  Ha.  How much can change in a short amount of time.  I’m currently in a season full of, yes, happiness, but also a touch of nostalgia, thinking back to those self-centered times of introspection and the creations that were expressed as a result.  But this morning I had a revelation…

I know I still have the Holy Spirit in me (you know, the One who created the universe), and I know that His gifts are without repentance, as well do I know that I am who I am and you cannot un-weave the threads of a tapestry however faded or stained they have become.  My revelation was this: I dance with my son like a maniac alone in our living room, not on a stage.  I write songs all the freaking time, but in the form of lullabies or “getting dressed” songs – no two are alike.  I explore my vocal range while I read stories aloud.  My “art” is expressed in the form of cardboard and construction paper letters and shapes on the walls of my children’s bedroom… and they are excellent.  The creativity displayed in the healthy recipes I’ve concocted on a tight budget nourish myself and my family.  My “poetry” is crafted into the form of love notes to my husband, as well as worship songs I sing alone in my room.  And the attention to my physique has been refocused into good nutrition/activity that benefits the baby in my womb.  Exercise?  Scrubbing floors and carrying toddlers counts in my book.

It’s not all about me anymore.

The best part is, this transformation reaps a lasting reward in the form of my children and marriage, instead of a temporary impression on those who see me.  Don’t look at me with my un-styled hair and flushed red face.  Look at the fruit of my life in that I am abundantly blessed and happy.