I know of at least 4 women who have at one time seriously considered running away from their families.  4 married, mothers, respectable pillars of their community.  4 women you would call to ask for advice, or solicit to pray for you.  But at one time in their lives each of them had an overwhelming desire to leave their husbands and children behind and disappear into the great unknown of irresponsibility.  1  wanted to leave her family during her first year of marriage.  She was convinced she’d made a huge mistake,  was dealing with an unexpected (and at the time unwanted) pregnancy.  She felt trapped and wanted out out out!  Mom 2 had intricate plans to escape to another state leaving her husband and children behind.  She too felt trapped and crazy and just ready for a life all her own.  Mom 3 hid behind a secret love affair with a man she’d met online.  She too had a detailed plan of how she and he were going to run away, abandoning both their families and living a life of bliss and tranquility on the beach of a 3rd world country.  Mom 4 spent months of her life pursuing the husband of her daughter’s friend in an attempt to persuade him to give up his wife and kids to run away with her.   I am close friends with all 4 of these women… 2 of them I am happy to say are still married (and even to the same men!) and are still moms   The other two succeeded in their attempt to escape reality and the results have been tragic, both for them and their now broken families. 

I never understood the appeal of running away, or maybe I just didn’t understand the intensity… until today.  I got in my car tonight leaving my husband in his office, and my son asleep in his bed and grabbed a quick bite to eat.  On the drive there I seriously considered an indefinite road trip.  I felt so trapped.  My biggest desire at the moment was to just be the way I was before I got married, before I’d become a mom.  I just wanted to remember what it felt like to be single, spending the majority of my time alone.  I wanted to re-experience the feeling of walking into a clean house every day.  I wanted to remember what it was like to go where I wanted on a whim, to be my own person, to have the inner peace that comes from knowing without a doubt how much milk is left in the fridge. 

I’m a stay at home mom, which to me means my world is very small sometimes.  My days at times feel like a endless circle of the same chores… clean the kitchen, fix the boy food, feed the boy, clean up after the boy, put the toys away, take the toys out, vacuum, clean up the mess, read to the boy, put the boy down for a nap, feed the boy, clean up the kitchen, vacuum, make dinner, clean the kitchen.  I’m sure you get the idea.  I used to be a video editor/director.  My job used to be making creative stuff and bossing people around.  Now I’m creative in how to make sure my son gets enough daily veggies, the only person who gets bossed around in our house isnt listening either.  So after 11 months I was ready to be on the run… for good.

So I swooped up my keys, a book, and my cell.  I jumped in my MiniVan and set off to rediscover all those things I would be doing if I were once again single and a non mom… just like I used to be.  It didnt take me 5 minutes on the road to realize I couldnt remember what I used to do on a Friday night when I was a single non mom.  As a single non mom on a Friday night I would have been completely content to sit on my couch reading the very book I had in my hands as I was rushing away from my couch at home.  But I was on the road now and not about to be deterred by this little bit of logic.  So I drove the only place that seemed logical at the time…. our local Chinese food restaurant.  I went in sat down and ordered “for here.”  I drank my soup, ate my chicken and picked at my rice.  I read my book and relaxed.  And somewhere in the middle of all that I became at peace.  I realized what I was looking for.  I was just searching for me, the old me, the real me. 

You see the thing that separates the moms at the beginning of this post is where they are rooted.  You see mom 1 and 2 at their core love themselves.  Even when they dont they really do.  They like who they are and have their own identity.  Mom 3 and 4 placed all the responsibility for deleloping their identitity on other people.  They didnt have it within themselves.  So when mom 1 and 2 wanted to run away, they (I think) realized that they were still who they wanted to be.  They just needed to find time to be themselves and leave “momhood” behind long enough to fill up.   Mom 3 and 4 never did that and are still searching for a validation of who they are in one failed relationship after another. 

When I drove home that night I rolled the windows down, I put in my Jack Johnson CD and let my head rest against the seat of my MiniVan.  I let my arms ride wind waves and I sang along to the music, because my heart was light again.  I was for those few minutes the girl I used to be and it was wonderful to visit her, but even nicer to bring part of her back into the house to fix the place up a little bit.  Because I know now that I can still do my best to create that life of tranquility and freedom I had before wifehood and kidmadness.  Sure it takes a little extra work, but after spending a little time with old me I realize that she’s more than worth the time and effort.

Something dawned on me while I was reading my morning blogs.  Or maybe it happened after I was done reading them… either way… the point is – I like where life is right now.  Maybe I just woke up in a good mood, or maybe my latte was especially good this morning (which it totally was).  Or maybe its because I’ve worked my rear off the last few days getting ready for the bonfire on Saturday.  But today I feel really good about myself, I like where life is.  I look back on how I felt a couple weeks ago when I was wishing I was more accomplished and I realize nothing has changed since then, other than my perspective.  And I think that’s about all that matters – perception is reality, both for good and bad.  Actually I feel like I can narrow it down to a moment, I folded a blanket and set it on the couch.  But see, I made the blanket – and it’s beautiful.  Its falling apart, but I know how to put it back together, so anything that goes wrong with that blanket I can fix it.  I think maybe thats the satisfaction men get out of ripping their homes apart and putting them back together.  Scott is updating the electrical in the house and its frustrating all around, for him and me.  For him because the old electrical is in such bad shape, and for me because there are holes in my walls every 20 feet or so.  But I get the sense that he feels about the electrical the way I do about the blanket, sure it’s in bad shape right now, but I can fix any part of it, it just takes time.  When he looks at the new fixtures he’s put up I imagine him thinking “That can fall out of the ceiling tomorrow, but I know how to fix it.”  Maybe all those moms I admire so much arent really superheroes who can do everything, maybe they just keep fixing things they know how to fix and leaving the rest to someone who can fix it better.  Or more simply put, maybe they know and understand themselves and have discovered they are enough.

Its a Saturday morning and I’m sitting here with my cup of coffee and Scott is working on the electrical. He’s puttering around fixing this and that and I think I love him The dogs are playing with bones and chasing each other around the house. Connor is down for a nap and there is peace.

So I’m sitting here at my computer and I throw some music on – In my stack is an old Chris Tomlin CD (Arriving) and I think “Wow I havent heard that in a while… I’ll listen to that” And just like that I’m back in the old building at First Christian in the chapel listening to Derek sing these songs for Tuesdays. I remember Adam as a grump (but not really) and Julie bringing whatever was for dinner that night.

I remember feeling so apart and at the same time so a part. I wish now that I’d gone out after the service was over, I wish that I’d met people and had a good time. I wish I’d seen how many people reached out to me. But at the same time I dont want to change a thing. Isnt it funny how a time can just rush back at you? I can see the lights and smell the room, and taste the Dr. Pepper I’m sure I was drinking at the time. I can remember exactly how it felt to walk through the sanctuary to my car. I can feel how cold it was outside and what the upholstery of my car felt like as I sat down to drive away.

Then like waking up I realize I will have the same feelings years from now about the moment I’m in right now. I’ll remember the sound of Tomlin on the stereo, the smell of my coffee, I’ll remember exactly what was on the table around me. I’ll see the toys on the floor, and hear the dogs barking and feel the affection I feel right now for Scott as he hums along with electrical wire in this hands. This is how it feels to know a moment. When God says he knows us this is what he’s talking about.