thoughts from the deep recesses

It is absolutely ridiculous how often I find myself alone this summer. I know I've whined about it A LOT. It's just almost unbelievable to me. I seriously wake up almost every day thinking "Oh good - the kids and I will have three hours together this afternoon" and then when I get home to commence the togetherness, they all disappear. One to a movie. One to a friend's house. Off they go... over and over and over again they leave me here. Alone. I was thinking about this in my own teenager memories... how I never once thought about my mom when I would take off. I took off a lot. I worked. Had cheerleading practice. An older boyfriend with a really cool car. The beach to go to. A friend with a boat and a lake at which to spend long summer days. Girlfriends who hosted amazing sleepovers. I was just doing what teenagers do. And I never once thought about what my mom might possibly be doing while I was gone. After all, she was mom... didn't she alwa...

July was a pretty quiet month around here. In an effort to not sound like a broken record, or to be too vocal about my current struggle/situation, or to sound like a whiny, pathetic middle aged mom, I've sort of avoided writing. Although, to be honest, I've tried. I've sat down several times, wanting to write. Writing has always been a cathartic release for me... a way to process my thoughts and emotions... and often it has the ability to take me from a deep, dark funk into a healthier, more centered space. Not lately. Lately, I sit down to write and nothing comes. So I've decided to wait. Which seems to be a theme right now in my life. This whole quasi-empty-nest-husband-is-working-ALL-the-time-and-I'm-bored-out-of-my-gourd-and-feeling-irrelevant-and-lost season is pretty stinkin' hard. I KNOW there is something out there for me. I BELIEVE God will bring me something. But right now, I'm waiting. Waiting for some inspiration. Some vision...