I’ve known for the last couple of weeks that I need to be writing more. About what–I am not sure. But I long to iron out the wrinkled up thoughts in my head. An analogy I use often when I speak about the importance of writing in my life. It irons and straightens out all the chaos in my mind, making me feel like a newly starched white button down. 

I’ve picked up my phone a few times and I haven’t even written a paragraph. This is why writing is hard. Sitting alone with your thoughts is hard. We don’t know what the heck is going on in side of us, and instead of just sitting in silence and letting it all unravel, we busy our hands, our ears, our eyes with noise. With pictures. With scrolling our Instagram feed.

Well, it’s been noisy for a bit too long and I’m forcing myself to sit, minus husband and and little one, and now with my phone hidden underneath a blanket, and let it all unravel.

The last few days have felt like a bit of a blur as Joel and I spend as much time as we possibly can with those that we will miss most while we take our six week sabbatical (still trying to figure out what to call it) in North Dakota. Our nights are crammed full of joyful dinners, making lists of all the cool weather essentials we’ll need, and testing out our tent we will be vacationing in for one week in Banff National Park.

We are a week and a half away from leaving stability, financial security, and our cozy home for… well, we are exchanging all of those things for “time” I suppose. Time to breathe deep, research, network, look at each other, play with Olson, and hone in on our passions. Joel will be making a lot of music, and I will be spending a lot of time on my newest endeavor, the “Hey Sister Blog.”

And who knows what else?

Maybe in those six weeks we’ll realize we are farmers at heart. Or that we want to own a restaurant together. Or take up desk jobs and save up a bunch of money to adopt.

THE POSSIBILITIES GO ON FOREVER and they just keep going and going until I’m turned upside down like one of those pineapple bundt pan cakes!

And let me just be real honest with you. Like heart-wide-open honesty. I am not scared. I am not worried.

What scares me way more than not making enough money or having a 9-5 pm job schedule is Olson’s toddler voice becoming a little boy’s voice. Him saying “Here I am!” instead of “Here I’m are!” My husband turning forty and realizing he gave up art and creativity for a six figure income.  And me turning forty and realizing I’ve lived out everyone else’s dream for me and not my own.

THAT shakes me to my core and makes my stomach turn.

It doesn’t mean that I don’t want Olson to grow up. It doesn’t mean that Joel can’t have a stable and reliable job and still create. And it doesn’t mean that the plans other people have for me are bad.

But I don’t want to miss Olie growing. And I don’t want life to happen to me and my husband anymore. We want to take the reins and decide for ourselves what we want our lives to look like. And not feel pressured into a certain situation because it is the “safe” thing to do.

Time is speeding up and that freaks me out. There’s a reason that complete strangers will tell you to relish your teenage years, enjoy your years as a newlywed couple, don’t wish away the newborn baby phase, and cherish every moment you have because it’s gone before you know it.

Well, we hear you. And we’re doing something about it.

We realize we are in a really special time in our lives where this type of change is possible. We have saved up money for years. We have been wise and responsible with what God has given us. We have one kid and he isn’t in school yet. We have surrounded ourselves with people who we love so much it hurts– who have encouraged and supported us in this endeavor.

Without our community, we wouldn’t have the strength to do this.

Joel and Olson just came inside from a walk. Hearing Olson holler, “Mommy!” still gives me the warm fuzzies. (Of course, sometimes it also makes me want to hide in a hole.) They smell like earth and sweat as they just went exploring down the road to a construction site. Olson loves tractors and trucks right now so I’m sure he was beside himself. Now he’s asking if it’s “cereal time.” It’s 8:10 pm…

I’m really thankful for these two boys who make me want to pull my hair out and dance in joyful circles all at the same time.

 

 

 

 

 

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