If you’ve followed my blog with any regularity, you may have noticed that my posts have become increasingly fewer and farther between. To be honest, it’s not that there hasn’t been anything going on. It’s just that I haven’t been able to talk about it, for reasons that I’m still not fully able to explain.
My friends — both virtual and in real-life — will be pleased to know that I am happier, we are all happier, than I can remember in years. Craig and I actually laugh out loud together at the end of the day. He goes off to work with a smile on his face. The kids bicker less. Even the dog smiles. A gigantic weight . . . has miraculously been lifted from the Saxton house. As I’ve said in several cryptic e-mails now, God is good. All the time. Though we’ve had to wait for it, His best for us was infinitely better than anything I could have dreamed.
I’m hoping that even this much will be an encouragement to someone out there. After all, I started this blog as an encouragement for Extraordinary Moms — women who find themselves living out their vocations as wives and mothers in extraordinary circumstances. Many of you have cared enough to write and tell me how these posts have helped you, and it has been a rare priviledge to journey alongside you, even for a little while. But as most women who venture into motherhood soon discover, life is built in chapters. And many times, the only way to fully embrace the current chapter . . . is to let go of the previous one. It’s part of the deal.
Yes, even the “best” chapters of our lives carry a hefty price tag. In order to enter into this new family adventure, I will have to let go of some of the activities, and even some close friendships, that I’ve come to treasure. It isn’t easy. But it IS necessary.
So . . . this is going to be my last post, both here at EMN as well as on my public forums, for the foreseeable future. There are many reasons for this, but the most important is that what I need to do for my family in the weeks and months ahead is going to require every bit of spare time and effort that I can muster. Fortunately, it’s happy work, an unimaginable and jubilant release after what has been nothing short of months and months of … well, just the opposite.
And so, I close with one of my favorite bits by Robert Browning . . . from Pippa Passes:
The year is at the spring
And day is at the morn;
Morning is at seven;
The hillside’s all dew-pearled;
The lark is on the wing;
The snail is on the thorn:
God is in His heaven—
All is right with the world!