It's 8:00 pm and somebody just asked me if I had any hobbies.
I stared off into space, wondering if I did.
I mean, I know what I like to do when I have time, but when do I have time?
I figure having hobbies implies that you actually do them, not just want to do them.
Currently, I relate with the popular Pinterest meme that iterates a mom's hobbies as
"going to the bathroom alone and enjoying silence."
When asked about my hobbies, the Rugged Mountain Man looked at me,
chuckled and listed off six of my hobbies, rapid fire.
(Thank God for that man.)
It's eye-opening that a mom can feel so depleted
that she may not even remember exactly "who she is."
Motherhood must be a pretty tiring job, eh?
This must be what it feels like to be a vessel.
Empty.
Depleted.
Poured out.
Used.
Please don't shudder.
After reading that, many would prescribe more self-care and more Mom's nights out.
I'm not against them., please understand.
I'm just looking at this place of being totally empty and thinking of what a truly good place it is.
I'm finding the blessing in the empty place.
This is when God can use me most, right?
When there's the least amount of me possible.
I've gotta get less and less in this whole equation, so He can be more and more.
And if that means I forget that I like to scrapbook, then so be it.
If I must pour out myself utterly and completely to help my husband,
to serve my family and to raise these Blossoms into Roses, then so be it.
Let me be empty. Let me be nothing. Let me be used up. Let me be depleted.
So, He can be Everything.
