The Art of Home Making

My husband changed his Facebook name to Xayachak. Apparently, that is the correct way to spell our last name. Ever since we returned from visiting his homeland, things have not quite been the same. I am pretty sure he is having a mid-life crisis.

I love it. Mostly because I am having a crisis, too. I don't know if it is because I have entered mid-life, however, since I have had my share of crisis throughout life.

So there, we are both a little crazy right now. His is simply a little more contained.

Each day, I look at my children and panic because they are huge, and I don't even remember anything about the first five years of toddlerhood, except that it was insanely hard and I have this incredible pull towards the thought of needing to do it all over again. 

But I also want to travel the world with my current children and share our love for culture, art, music, and people. You can't do that with three or four toddlers.

Maybe we could move to a third world country and I could hold babies all day long and play and teach and watch them grow.

But then again, I 'd love to learn how to start a community garden, preferably near my parent's house, where I can glean some farmer's wisdom and live in wide-open spaces. Or maybe just hide out in the middle of nowhere, free to be as whatever as I want.

I want to write, I want to homeschool effectively. I want my children to always know I have time for them. I want to give food to the hungry and entertain friends. I want a greenhouse and a secret garden. I want to do good, to live a life that will impact something.

But quite frankly, today I have a hard time keeping my dining room table clean. And I won't even tell you how badly I need to wash my sheets.

I'm tired, broke, and sometimes broken. I'm scared. Scared on one hand to put myself out there and face failure, and scared on the other that I will die letting fear minimize my purpose. I'm so confused. Has God given me a dream but said "wait", or did he say "go" and I missed the entry date, or maybe I've just lived selfishly and discontented, missing the whole point?

Because this very present position is not one I've chosen.

And that leaves me with.... nothing. Even though I could give a list of thanksgivings, something is void.

Through many conversations with God, I have decided to be disciplined to be content and to be the best darn homemaker of this home that I loathe (but would have a very hard time leaving). So I, Wendi Xayachak, plan to learn the art of homemaking this year. And I will write about it from time to time if I am not too exhausted from the actual work. Pray for me.

Pray that I don't feel like a failure, having a nine year old and still clueless about how to keep socks together. Pray that I will have insight because I am no longer college age and cannot research all night. Pray that I will be teachable, and maybe will find something worthy of passing along. I've been talking about this for some time, and I've procrastinated long enough.

And maybe when I've conquered being content and caring for what I have, then I can move on and adopt triplets- or move to India. I want to be ready for whatever God has written for me.