The Calling

It’s that little voice.

You know the one I’m talking about.

The one that won’t leave you alone.

That red flag.

That green light.

That nagging feeling.

That encourager.

The relentless pusher.

Lord, you are so annoyed by it sometimes.

JUST GO AWAY.

I don’t want to try something new and different!

I don’t want to leave what I’ve known!

I’m afraid.

But there it is and here you are.

That new job.  That new relationship.  That child.  That move.

And, so long as it is in the direction of progress, it’s our job to listen.

If only we could trust . . . and listen.

 

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Camille Vaughan Photography

Precipice

I can feel it.  A change is coming and just like the rain, there’s not much I can do about it.

My eldest will enter her first year of all-day public school next week, guaranteed to create a lasting domino effect in our household.

The dynamics between the inseparable two eldest will shift.  My second-born will gravitate towards her younger sister in the absence of her idolized older sister.  The eldest will return home, tired and yet frustrated at her replacement.  The third sister will resent being dismissed as soon as school is over.

There will be sickness, spread like wildfire.  Long, sleepless nights.  Trips to the doctor.  Boxes upon boxes of tissues.

And then there’s the worry of releasing my 6 year-old to the big, ugly world.  The one where bullies exist and feelings get hurt.  Out from the shelter of her mother, her home and her little private preschool, she will be vulnerable to the wolves.

I can only hope I’ve taught her well.

To be kind.

To be tough.

To be happy.

It began with that first cut of the umbilical cord.  Little by little, I’ve witnessed her venture further from my womb.  Becoming less of me and more of her.

We’re on a precipice and there’s no turning back.  And the view, albeit daunting, is invigorating.

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Camille Vaughan Photography