Still Becoming

I’ve been thinking.

I know…that’s usually dangerous.

But bear with me.

The last couple of weeks have been…well…a lot.

One morning I was standing in my yard crying over baby chickens after the neighbor’s dogs got into the coop.

A couple of days later I was in Lexington with my granddaughter while she had a procedure done.

Somewhere in between I was frantically cutting and assembling notepads because apparently I thought that was the perfect project to finish before getting on an airplane.

Then I flew to New York.

I watched my Cubs beat the Mets.

I laughed until I cried with women who started out as Facebook friends and somehow became family.

I got a hole in one playing mini golf…or should I say Martini Golf because Laura accidentally renamed the sport and now that’s what it’ll be called forever.

At one point someone was about to throw away a bottle of Peach Bellini that still had three drinks left in it.

I couldn’t allow that.

So there I stood…holding a glass of wine in one hand while chugging the Bellini straight from the bottle with the other.

Naturally, someone took a picture.

You’re welcome.

Then I flew home.

Yesterday we attended Todd’s cousin’s funeral.

Life never asked me if I was ready to switch gears.

It just…did.

And somewhere in the middle of all of that, my brain decided it wanted to design planners.

Bible journals.

Recipe books.

Chicken planners.

Prayer notebooks.

Sermon notebooks.

Because apparently that’s how my mind copes—with creativity.

I’ve realized something through all of this.

We spend so much time waiting for life to calm down before we allow ourselves to enjoy it.

“Once this is over…”

“Once things settle down…”

“Once life gets easier…”

The problem is…

Life rarely waits its turn.

Joy and grief have a funny way of showing up at the same time.

You can be heartbroken over losing baby chicks…

…and still laugh until your stomach hurts because your friends now call it Martini Golf.

You can attend a funeral…

…and still be excited about the planner supplies waiting on your porch.

One feeling doesn’t cancel out the other.

They simply remind us that life isn’t lived one chapter at a time.

It’s lived in the middle of all the chapters at once.

So today I’m grateful.

Grateful for my family.

Grateful for friendships that make me laugh until I cry.

Grateful for the chance to create.

Grateful that even after hard days, there are still good ones waiting.

And grateful that somewhere out there exists photographic evidence that I once held a glass of wine while drinking Peach Bellini straight from the bottle…

…because apparently that’s the kind of memory that reminds you you’re really living.

Life doesn’t wait its turn.

Maybe it isn’t supposed to.

Maybe we’re just supposed to keep showing up—for the hard days, the joyful days, and every wonderfully messy day in between.