The blog has become pretty image heavy lately. Again I’m having a hard time collecting my thoughts and gathering motivation to write. Rather than take a break I’ve told myself I need to post something and anything. It’s easy to use this space as a glorified Flickr rather than what I intended–a place to create and explore and grow by working through my thoughts.

I was talking with my niece and friend Ashley recently about the pressure we put on ourselves to create and post for public feedback. It seems disingenuous but we continue to behave this way. I’d have more to say if I allowed myself to relax and take my time.

The truth is, it’s a strange season in our lives. A displacement like ours–being in this in-between place with no real idea when it will end–is bound to cause some sadness yet I don’t think I felt prepared. I’m struggling to feel I have purpose, something I’ve always battled as a homemaker, and even more so during this transition period while we’re living with David’s mother. I admit I discourage easily and despair over not being in our own home, not having a daily routine, not having my own hideaway and place to be proud of and happy in. My rhythm is thrown way, way off.

I know having a home to clean every day does not define me. My pottery and art collections do not define me. Cooking meals for myself and my husband in our own kitchen doesn’t define me. How I express my creative self doesn’t even define me. But that doesn’t stop me from missing it–my home, the home and life I have made with David. That home is still here, in who we are and how we love each other, but I miss the space where we are free to fully express that love and grace towards one another, enjoying what we’ve built for the last 8 and a half years, together and on our own terms.

I don’t mean to sound ungrateful or overly concerned with being in a newly renovated house. That’s just not it. In the words of my sister-in-law Lara, “You are a very visual person, whose aesthetic is a natural extension of your self. Your home was filled with that aesthetic and now maybe a part of you seems missing.” But it’s also more than that. I haven’t felt like myself and it took me a few weeks to realize how isolated I’ve been. I drove through our neighborhood a few days ago and was struck by how deeply I longed to be back there. I’m homesick for downtown, our sweet community.

So this is where we are–feeling tired and run down during one of the busiest times of the year, yet in other ways one of the most stagnant. We’re seeking balance and getting through it together with God’s grace. I’m very thankful for the opportunity to see my sin of pride and the ways it manifests in impatience and fear.

This weekend is my favorite of the year–three days of arts and culture downtown–and I’m looking forward to reenergizing and refocusing with dear friends and family in the community that is our home, too.