On Labor and Messes

I am a woman in labor.  

It’s been a long time coming, this something being born, and I want to cling to how it was before, how I was before, and I’m afraid of this new that is on the way.  

It came to me as I heard a song on the CD player, a familiar song of this season, and words came floating through my head.  

Or was it through my heart?  

All around is the festive celebration of a birth, a special birth that is the crux of belief, the cornerstone of faith.  Yes, that person was born then and that life holds hope and promise and sacred meaning to so many of us.  

Always at this time of the year I see so much more.

Thoughts carried me back to actual physical birth pains, and that time when I just knew I was not going to get through that, that I could not do it any more.  And that was when all of it broke loose and we were at that point of becoming new…as a new life was welcomed into our arms. 

All was changed. Nothing looked the same.  

Weeks or months later, I could finally see myself as this new person, this young mom, so head over heals in love with this new life, both the one I could cuddle and rock and feed and bathe, and the new life that was a way of being.

Don’t we go through this same process over and over?  
Not the child bearing, 
But the nurturing of our ever changing lives.  

We plod along as we have been for a time, then we find ourselves holding something new. We’re scared…maybe. Excited…perhaps.  Wondering what hit us…yup.  

Here I was, 
in the middle of painting woodwork, for cryin’ out loud, and all this hit me.  Painting woodwork is a painful task…tedious, unrewarding, very time consuming, requiring lots of careful brushing on of multiple layers of paint.  I feel like I’m stuck in that paint can forever.  I’ll never, ever get this done.

The new, exciting ‘stuff’ of moving has worn off, and now I’m in that part that seems not so pretty.  Coming to terms with being here, not there.  Realizing that the new familiar is not much like the old.  

This is indeed hard work.

Even still, the messes can be tolerated. The house actually is looking more like home. Doesn’t everyone have a step ladder sitting in their dining room like we do?  Canvas drop cloths add a nice touch to wood floors, and maybe they even help soften the sounds in the room.  We could be trend setters.

There will always be messes.  

Each will look different, will come from different causes, but will eternally remind me of the changes throughout all of our lives.  

Learning as I go … 

I see that we all have something being incubated, nurtured, anticipated within us.  Each day, each moment is a leap of faith. 

Messes and paint brush

One Reply to “On Labor and Messes”

  1. Deborah, you've been much on my mind and heart. I know it's hard, trying to settle into a new place…really, into a whole new life. Being away from all that's familiar at the holidays is even harder. I wish I could grab a paintbrush and help with that woodwork. Or drop by with coffee and cookies, so you could take a break and we could chat a while. I'm wishing you peace and hoping you will soon begin to feel more at home in your new home.

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