a bowl of ants

I remember being more emotional when I was pregnant with the boys.  But not like this.  Some may say it is because they think I am carrying a girl this time, others because I am older, or maybe it is because I have more children and more responsibility now.  And really, to be honest, the past few years have been full of emotion.  There have been moments of gasping for air between sobs when my legs have buckled under the weight of my heart.  Moments of extreme frustration, anger, sadness and also huge mountaintops of joy and celebration.  It has been anything but boring.  And so while much of my latest journey could be due to the hormone surges going on in my body, I am also realizing that God is using this season to refine my heart.

Nesting. All creatures do it in preparation for new life to join their world.  It is a natural and necessary desire to make preparations for a new child to join the family.  Somewhere along the way, though,  a seed of discontentment planted itself in my soul.  Them the seed sprouted and grew and began to bear fruit.  This fruit formed a new lens over my eyes and my world began to look different.  Everywhere my eyes turned I saw ugliness, failure, and a pressure to change.  Why didn't my house look like the pictures in a magazine?  The memories collected over the years now seemed silly and out of place.  Our mismatched furniture, projects left half done, colors that don't quite coordinate, they screamed at me to be changed.  They whispered to my heart that I needed to buy new things for our home. What had I been doing these past 12 years of marriage?   Why does my home still look unfinished?  I have failed.

My reflection in the mirror began to morph as well.  Yes, I know it is actually changing.  But I began to see more than my growing baby.  My eyes told me that I didn't look like all those other cute pregnant women.  My eyes screamed ugliness at me.  They whispered to my heart that my clothes were not attractive and I would be happier if I bought new ones.  They told me I would look better if I had spent more time during this pregnancy exercising and toning my body.  I have no idea how to dress or how to look beautiful and the flaws are all examples of my failures in life.

These thoughts patterns are destructive.  They crept in slowly and began to steal my joy.  Like a virus.  And then I read a post about a little girl in Uganda named Anna.

I had come inside to make dinner for my family.  I opened pinterest to get my recipe for the evening.  There, on the top row of the home page, was a pin for this post.  It grabbed my attention.  The house was quiet and so I thought I would take just a moment to read through it before starting our meal.

Anna had worked all night to collect a bowl of white ants.  She lay waiting next to her candle for the bugs to come to the flame.  One by one she placed them into her bowl to save.
I loved collecting bugs when I was little and my children and children everywhere love to do the same.  It is fascinating to watch the insects and become, for a moment, absorbed in their world.  Often they would die and get tossed to the garden, but there were some who would actually achieve freedom from their captivity. However, they were always captured for discovery, for entertainment, for play.  This little girl, Anna, was collecting them for her family to eat.

To eat.  The words hung in the air and swirled around the seed of discontentment in my soul.  To eat. To eat. Her story formed an ax. I felt like I had been punched and something pierced through the lenses that had begun to cloud my vision.  And I could now see my heart with His Truth.  Where I had seen only lacking, I now saw the overabundance.

My fridge full of delicious, healthy food for my family.  My surroundings no longer a house but truly our home.  The mismatched furniture and lack of stylish decor the result of a life spent doing and spending on other things.  My body a vessel of life.  Each flaw and each wrinkle a badge of honor to have been chosen to care for five beautiful children.

And then a peace settled into my soul.  There is still much to do to get ready for the homecoming of Baby 5. Some of that will involve some changes in the aesthetics of our home, but I have freedom from the burden of perfection and failure.  A small taste of freedom from the chains of opulence that strangle our culture.  I am hanging up this picture as a reminder.  As a stone of remembrance of how God chopped down the weed of discontentment with a bowl of ants.