The jumble of life

There’s a whole bundle of thoughts running around my head, about contentment, motherhood, returning to studying, creativity, fading snow and meals I am loving. I don’t really know where to start with any of it or whether any of it really needs conveying into words. 

One week today, at this time, I will be in my second hour of university. My second hour in a whole year, as well as in 2013. It has certainly crept up on me, although I have seen it coming for a long time, and my brain is stuck somewhere else entirely, thinking that Phoebe is possibly 6 months, perhaps even 9 months old, but definitely not about to turn one. In the same week I myself will have a birthday, and that madness of studying, nursery, mothering and birthdays will all be at once; yet I am looking forward to it. I have been reading in preparation for university, enjoying time relaxing with our little family, loving the fact that the house is feeling settled and feeling more like home, only one year after moving (!) Spending time reading God’s word with #shereadstruth  has made the biggest difference, and I am glad to have a relationship with a loving heavenly father.

I can hear the rain tapping on the skylight as I type, although all I can see through it is a square of brightness, a few darker grey clouds skidding across. The mini felt bunting I made is strung across the bottom of it, the sewing machine which I have actually used, more than once, sits before it. This little place is one of my favourites; the room is a crazy mixture of things- musical instruments, a pile of craft-filled boxes, a bookcase rammed full, shelves collecting cards and games and notebooks from times gone by. Beneath the skylight sits a little white desk, built into a nook in the wall. Here are folders with my physical pinterest from when I was about 13, music books, sewing books and scraps of fabric. Propped next to it is my keyboard, and the slate grey sofa-bed and red ikea chair are stark contrasts with the whiteness of the room. In this dimming light I just feel glad. Glad to have a moment whilst Phoebe sleeps, glad to be finishing my degree, God willing. Glad to have a house to live in, a wonderful family and a great year.  I am glad to have books to inspire, words to evoke emotions, squares of sky to look out on and wonder at. 

Life is not perfect; the impression people give of their lives is selective, particularly on pinterest, in photographs, and on the internet.  But even when you meet a friend, you can choose to share the raw, messy details of your life- physical mess in the house or emotional mess inside, or you can choose not to. This room is messy, but it contains important things from our lives, and is a funny, crazy kind of escape from the rest of the house, the everyday. This life is not perfect, like God intended, but he sent his son so that perfection could be restored. And there are moments of perfection which point to what is waiting, and they make it all worthwhile.