I feel compelled to share a bit of my heart and all it’s messiness through this season.

Life is anything but quiet right now. When my my baby was nine months old, I decided to go back to school, still unsure as to why I was even going back. I tacked on night classes and all-night homework sessions to an already crazy schedule. I also refuse to sacrifice the time at home that I do get with my daughter, so until she lays her head down at night, I push away all the reading and studying and homework I have waiting for me to soak up every minute that I can with her.

Some days are easier than others. Some days, I’m glad to go to work. I am definitely glad for the provision, I’m glad for practical things like the benefits, I’m glad to have a routine. I’m thankful to get up every morning, to get dressed, and to head out to do a job. I get to spend my days with other adult women, some of them moms themselves, some of them grandmothers. They even tolerate the thousands of pictures I beg them to look at of this little being that I get to call my own.

But some days are hard. Some days I feel like it is taking every bit of my energy to hold back the flood of emotion that’s sitting in my throat. I want to raise my own kid. Other moms get to raise theirs. This is not fair…. And here comes the messy.

See, I’ve always worked. I’ve always enjoyed working. And I always thought that work would be a given even once I had kiddos. It was a no brainer. But there’s something I didn’t prepare for, something I didn’t know would happen.

I had a feeling I never expected.

I read an article today written by a medical surgeon turned stay-at-home mom. Here’s the link if you want to read it. Here’s what she said: “I never anticipated the fierce, visceral, heady, unruly, terrifying love I would have for my children. The allure to minister to them in every moment, to guide them and teach them in the Lord’s ways, was palpable.”

Yes. That’s the feeling I never expected. I didn’t prepare to war against the intense longing to be with this child that I have grown to love so deeply and fully. How could I have known?

Some days, I can do it. I’m good, I get it. But other days….

Other days, social media floods me with reminders of what life could be like. Days spent with my kid. Getting stuff done around the house, drinking coffee, reading books, helping my baby learn to walk, to talk, to count, to read.

Some days, I want to be the one to lay my baby down for her nap. I want to be the one to feed her lunch. I want to be the one that’s there when she takes a tumble. But I can’t be. I have to trust other people to help me raise her. (They are all a blessing!)

Do you know who did all the laundry this weekend? My husband. I had finals.

This is my season.

But I’m in this season because I’ve been called to it. God is faithful in this season, and he has strengthened me through it. I’m trying my best to walk through it as gracefully as I can. But if I had to be honest… sometimes “gracefully” looks like a dirty cry on my late drive home from school. And if I had to be really honest, if I can step back far enough to see the big picture, I’m still really glad and full of joy. This season… it’s hard, but it’s still good. And the best part? I’m not alone.

“I am with you always, to the end of the age.” – Jesus

(To the stay-at-home moms, I can’t tell you how grateful I am that you are able to do that and what a blessing it is that you get to be home with your kids. Your perfect meals and adorable crafts put me to shame. It doesn’t matter how many hours I spend at home, I could never make being a mom look as cool as you make it. You have so much to be proud of.)