My Children: Sojourners

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Did you know: I have two blogs.

One is public. Family photos and homeschool ramblings. Its open for friends and family to sit with and scribble their sweet comments on.

It's cozy

and safe.

This one is hidden. Like pornography. Stuffed in boxes on the floor of a closet.

This one is

dirty laundry.

It should be kept in a basket in the laundry room. Closed off from the eyes of those who enter our home.

After all.. isn't it true that dirty items should be washed and dried before being introduced into the world.

"What if your children find it someday?"

I pondered his words. I knew he was asking as a concerned father.

I tossed the question around with my husband. The man who always reminds me that we need to be real. We want to be known. Relational. Dirty laundry and all.

Janae recently wrote about this topic. I wanted to share her words with you because they too have been sown into my own story:

My son is not raised in isolation. I believe he should know that I am growing right alongside of him. I've given myself permission to live, to be as I am, whether struggling or rejoicing. I will live what is true. I will not tuck myself away, I will allow for exposure and honesty. I will honor him and honor myself, which can only be done through openness, through relationship.

I do not pour myself out recklessly, drowning him, as it were, making him my life raft; rather, I live myself, my struggle, my truth next to his. I believe he will gain more security with a mom that isn't pretending.

I don't want to pretend. Not here.

Or Anywhere.

And so I scribble.

Ink filled journals

and fingerprinted keyboard.

Imperfect Prose without answers.

I continue to ask questions while I walk through dark forests. But this I know: I'm not alone. I'm walking beside other sojourners. Some of which are named my children.

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