There’s something extremely satisfying about resolving what’s unfinished, yet when we step back and look at life, much of it is in process. The years of motherhood are the middle of the story, and if we’re honest, it can be hard to cherish the dissonance that fills the days and years.
There’s a constant temptation to focus on the unfinished notes of each day. The laundry sits, waiting to be folded. The weeds grow higher than the flowers. The floor needed vacuuming… yesterday. The missed appointment. Underneath the surface lies even deeper dissonance as we wrestle with grief as it washes over us like waves in the ocean. We question if we’re raising our children with the right values. We click through the headlines, overwhelmed by the violence and disunity. We respond in frustration toward those closest to us when we should reach out for a hug.