Day 31: Letting go

So. Many. Feelings.

After 8 years of building,  sweating, dreaming, learning and growing,  I'm taking a full official step away from my company.

Not leaving completely, I'll remain connected as a consultant available to support in answering questions and perhaps small projects here and there,  but it is obvious that having all the kids home for an extended time,  summer break around the corner and a baby in the fall,  it doesn't feel like a time for me to "lean in" to work.

Relief.
Grief.
Guilt.
Failure.
Pride.

I feel all the feelings. I double, triple over think my decision. It is the right one.  But it is hard.

Like that moment staring at that pregnancy test,  I feel shame that somehow I couldn't "do it all." That some invisible person somewhere expected that I could have and should have ... it's what we're supposed to do to be valued.

I feel unseen in the work of motherhood,  which is the hardest and most sacred vocation I've ever had. Why does it feel less than, when it really is more than? Why can't we as a society value this? Why?

I also feel out of place. I don't have other stay-at-home mom friends. I haven't yet been able to form connections or build a tribe. I don't know too many other moms of larger families. I don't know many other moms with children on the autism spectrum. I think a lot of those moms are like me... isolated by the heavy load of caretaking. I know they are out there and that they value this work, this sacred vocation. I know it brings them joy, as it brings me joy, but I don't have their words to help me feel reassured.

I worry about the future.

What does this mean for my career?
Will I have a career?
And...
How could I be so selfish to think about that?

It's so plainly obvious that my kids need me right now.

It's also a pretty strong wind that is calling me in new directions. 
I can tell the Spirit beckoning me forward. 
And for the first time,  I feel like a fisherman tending my nets...
"Lord, how can I go,  this is all I've known?"

I've built a life over the last decade.
Each stone building on the one before.
This is a bit of a departure.  Not to a destination,
but to "the place I will show you" on the other side of the wilderness.

God has called me to many new places before. Each season in life teaching me new things. Breaking down walls I didn't know I had. Opening my mind to faith in new ways. I know the path through the wilderness is rewarding but difficult. I know that the call will be clear in hind site. But for now -- it is uncertain and obscure. I just have the let myself dwell in the unresolved chord.

So,  tonight,  as I approach Holy Week.  I lay it down at the foot of the cross.

The questions.
The feelings.
The tomorrows unknown.
The who I am?
The what am I doing?

Quiet.
Still.
Tender.

I will breathe it in. 
This moment.
This uneasy time.

The cross is an uncomfortable place to be. But, here I am called to be. 
So, I breathe it in and wait for morning.