Trust the rhythm

Tonight I didn’t know what to write and I also don’t desire to write a whole lot. My desire is to continue the deep conversation I just had with my husband in the back patio, make way to our cozy bed, cuddle and fall asleep reading the Bible together.

So I did something spontaneous and pulled out my journal from my bookshelf, the way you do when you’re hoping an older version of yourself already has something figured out. I figured I might find something that would inspire me to write a short piece.

I flipped the page to this poem I wrote a few weeks before giving birth:

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With every wave, I soften like a flower petal.

With every wave, I ease into my breath. 

I inhale air into my lungs, nourishing the baby

and I exhale.

I actually don’t remember writing it but I do remember the season I was in.

It was when I was pregnant with my first child, Riah.

My body was doing something I couldn’t rush.

Every day asked me to slow down, to listen, to take it easy.

Carrying life teaches you that force is useless.

You are at the complete mercy of when the time is right for the baby to be born.

And when it’s supposed to happen, it will happen whether or not you’re ready for it.

I think I’m still learning this.

To soften the edges.

To trust the rhythm that carries me.

To breathe and let that be enough.

Warmly,