I was taught to take life seriously.

To take opportunities seriously. 
To take decisions seriously. 
To take instruction seriously. 
To take the Word of anyone in authority seriously. 
To take God seriously. 
To take food seriously. 
To be sensible about spending and acquiring things.
To take my female role seriously.
To take family, and the duty to family seriously.
To take the needs of others seriously.

When seriousness becomes as ingrained in you as it has been in me, there comes a point when life doesn’t quite feel possible any more. Once that feeling enters in, I don’t think it ever goes away until you allow it to be recognised. It just gets more pronounced. 

I know that for me this arrived at age 12, around the time of my birthday. Since that time, life has often felt impossible to me.

I think I’ve been navigating these impossibilities for the past two decades. 

When for a time I lay down the faith of my childhood, it was because it had become an impossible weight on me, not because I didn’t want or appreciate it. 

I felt like I had to sustain the very existence of God through my faith. I didn’t find anyone who was willing to explore that alongside me.

When I pursued the things I had been taught to pursue, I quickly found myself sunk deep in a reality I never would have anticipated: being mother to two differently divergent children has felt consistently and sometimes increasingly impossible. 

I am approaching the last few days before I turn forty. I do not want to experience another forty years of impossibility. 

So here’s a heads up. 

This person who loves the serious stuff of life is not going anywhere. I’m happier in the depths than in the shallows.

But I’m looking for a little bit more room to be. And I want to practice looking for things we can enjoy just because. 

Things like: 
humming,
balloons, 
laughter, 
cheeky kisses,
the company of people with sparky energy…
…sitting with my daughter while we look into each other’s eyes and ponder funny thoughts that no one else will ever hear about

And while I’m on the subject – sort of – here’s a take from where I’m standing on the Bible. 

I think there’s room to breathe in that text. I don’t think it spells out how it should all be done in every case. We get glimpses of moments from different people’s stories, but we don’t get the full picture of anyone’s story. 

I may be tired. I certainly am. But I do believe in a God who rules over time and supplies energy to the universe. I don’t think He’s in a rush to explain any of it, and I suspect there are still more surprises to come.

Image by Niek Verlaan from Pixabay