When I was young and single, I had a mantra that went something like, 'my time is not my time, my money is not my money, my life is not my life.' It was a reminder that what I've been given does not belong to me; it motivated me to be less selfish and more open to giving and serving.
Over the years my level of willingness to give and serve has gone up and down. And for whatever reason I always had strangers in mind when I thought of this mantra, so I served in Ghana for a year, or I donated money to support a child in Haiti, or I helped clean up a local park.
Recently I realized that being a mother is the absolute reality of this mantra. It was easy to follow the mantra when I could actively choose to give my time or my money, but in this season of life, the choice has been made and the giving is a requirement. For sure, being the mother of two small children has changed my life so much in that I no longer live for me, but I live for us. They are constantly on my mind, my days revolve around them, and especially in this time of nursing an infant, my body exists for Connor—and so my body is in fact not my body.
I'm pretty sure I have never been more exhausted then I am right now. As a person who values independence, these days can feel daunting, and I wonder if there is a light at the end of the tunnel. So I pray for hope, and I accept help when it's offered. Occasionally things come together and the burden eases. Then I take a deep breath, and I let myself feel the moment of peace.