I feel myself coming out of the first phase of this transition—the "I just had a baby" phase—and now I'm entering a new phase. The slow return to myself. My body is morphing back into something I'm beginning to recognize and my hormones are settling down. My children and I are approaching summer vacation, which means a new shift in the schedule. A new routine. A new, yet temporary, "normal".
Monday night, I did a talk for the women at my church about "Who am I supposed to be... now?" The central theme was how to strip away the facades, to look beyond the hats we wear and the roles we play and discover our unique God-given identities.
If you ask my oldest son Dillon, this is what my facade looks like:
Or, perhaps this is me with the facade stripped away. A blond-haired, green-eyed, fire-breathing dragon.
If you ask my middle child Blake, "What does your mommy do?" he says, "I don't know." I got that from his preschool exit interview. I decided to take the answer for what it's worth, since to the question, "How old are you?" he answered, "Good," and to, "Where do you live?" he replied, "I have my swimming pants."
When we ask, "Who am I supposed to be now?" it's something only we can answer for ourselves. I've come to rely on that feeling of "lightness" when I'm at a crossroads. To me, God's voice always brings a sense of relief—a feeling of a weight being lifted—even if I feel like God is asking me to do a hard thing.
But the good thing about this blog... the work here isn't hard. Even though my personal story centers around leaving my career in TV news, I've always been a communicator. A storyteller. And now, in this stage of my life it's the vehicle to pour my gifts out into the world.