I never imagined that when our house sold after 8 months of showings, constant cleaning, and over-analyzing our home, that we’d be in this position.

We can’t find the house for us. God has closed the door to three houses.

I’m feeling sorry for myself because we’re packing up a house that I’m emotionally attached to and we’ll be doing something temporary. Thankfully? Oh so very thankfully, our “temporary” is with Todd’s sweet grandmother in her home. We may drive her crazy with our loud boys and loud dogs, but we do have a place to live.

I’m thankful we sold our house, but sad that we’re taking our things out of this house and don’t have a place to relocate.

And then I realize that I’m talking about homes. And things. We’ve been given so much. And I sound spoiled. And I pray for Jesus to give me a good bit of perspective and to stop feeling sorry for myself.

My home is where my family is. We love our house that we’re leaving, but it doesn’t define our family. And the next house won’t define us either.

And living for a few months in a temporary situation wasn’t part of my plan, but it’s obviously part of God’s plan. God’s story is bigger than mine. He can see the whole picture and how it all falls into place. I can see bits and pieces and waste time worrying over very small details.

I’m so thankful that He knows more than I do.

We may have a miniature Christmas celebration in someone else’s home, but it will still be Christmas for the Reason that we celebrate Christmas in the first place.

My mom told me this morning that I need to practice this exercise today, and every day until we figure all of this out.

“Dear Father. Thank you so much for this opportunity. Thank you for what you’re going to show me and teach me. Please help me to see it as a gift and not as a trial.”

And for some seriously beautiful words, I’m re-reading my friend Ellen’s posts from her 31 Days series on Abide. She doesn’t know it, but it was so important for me to read her posts this month.

The other day, I had to run a quick errand to visit a local events designer in her showroom. I had about an hour before Hayes and I had to go pick up Hudson from school. I ran into her beautiful showroom and held Hayes as we walked around and looked at her gorgeous event decor.

If you’ve been reading Blue-Eyed Bride for a while, you may remember that I planned events before I had Hudson. A few weeks ago, Todd said to me, “Remember about seven years ago when you wanted to leave Columbia and go start a big private event company in a bigger city. And now look at where you are. Did you see this coming?”

And the truth is, I didn’t. My days are spent exactly how I want to spend them, but it’s a far stretch from where I thought I’d be.

As I stood there talking to this talented woman (who is closer to my mom’s age than my age), I mentioned to her that she was living my former dream. And I admitted to her that there are still moments when I wonder if I could ever do something like what she’s doing.

She looked at me, and she looked square at Hayes and smiled. She told me that years ago, she was doing what I’m doing now. She volunteered in the community and at her church and released her creativity through those outlets. But when her kids were little she knew she didn’t have the time or energy to devote to starting and running a business.

And she said, “Your time will come, but this time with your babies? You can’t ever get it back.”

I know she is right. Her words reached me and I realized that there is so much time. There is no reason that I need to attempt to “do it all” right now. The day will come when my boys are wrapped up in sports and music and their own social lives and I will have time. My old college dreams aren’t gone just because I chose a different path for this season of my life.

As I stood there with Hayes leaning on my shoulder and running his sticky fingers through my hair, she told me that if I needed my wedding fix I could come lend her a hand one weekend. But this time when they’re so little and really, really need me is time that I’ll always wish I could get back.

I wanted to share this story with all of you to encourage you. As moms of little ones, we know how hard we work and how much recognition comes with that. But our work is just as important as the most widely recognized and wildly praised professional’s work. As long as we’re doing it for the glory of the Lord.

Our other dreams and aspirations may become a reality now or they may take a back seat for a few years while we sort through our current seasons. We may not be able to do it all right now, but He gives us the desires of our hearts when we delight ourselves in Him.

So I took the weekend to pray and think. My family is in an interesting season right now. We’re doing great, we’re managing. We’re barely even freaking out about not having a home to move into when we close on our house.

Okay, correction. No one is freaking out except for me. And I’m doing my best not to freak everyone else out by my freak outs.

In addition to the move, I have some other commitments that I need to get through before Christmas.

And there’s my blog. My hobby-turned-small business that I love to nurture. And with it comes a beautiful community of women. And at the heart of that blog is my family, and the stories about my family.

I love to share our stories. But the season we’re in right now is new. God has put it on my heart in a major, tugging, aching way to change the way I tell our story.

Hudson is a spirited, lively, hilarious, normal three-year-old boy who is growing up more every day. He has always been one of God’s little masterpieces, but that little personality of his is more and more evident. And I’m realizing (like a big slap in the face) that just because I’m his mother, doesn’t mean that his story is mine to tell.

I can tell my story of motherhood to all of you, but not Hudson’s. Not Hayes’s. I’ve always done my very best not to write much about Todd unless he says it’s okay, but I’ve not given that same consideration to my kiddos.

And I realize that this is completely a personal decision for each blogger. But right now, as we move from toddlerhood into preschool-hood (is that a word?), I’m going to change the way I tell the story in an effort to protect my babies.

This is scary for me because I love to write and I’ve gotten so comfortable with the way I’ve been doing it for so long.

My friends and I are doing Priscilla Shirer’s study of Jonah right now and it’s all about navigating an interrupted life. These are the things that come up that rock the boat a little bit- or a lot.

The other night my friends and I got together to watch last week’s lesson, and I heard Priscilla Shirer say this…

“Oftentimes the greatest hindrance of a new move of God in your life is the last move of God.”

Yikes, right?

I’ve been there. I’m there now! I want to say, “But I can’t change what I’m doing and do something new because I’m already committed to doing this right now. And it’s a good thing!”

But maybe this good thing isn’t the right thing for right now. I’m confident that I’m hearing Him correctly, and I’m just praying that He’ll guide me through.

Are you struggling with making a decision that makes you uncomfortable? Even though you know deep down it’s the right thing?