Today is another foggy, drippy morning. The world outside is so lush and beautiful, I can almost taste it. Such a stark difference from several weeks ago before the rains came. And that pretty much sums up my current state: the stark difference between what consumed my energy and what I’m doing now.

I’m savoring a cup of coffee and watching bread rise while Little Man catnaps. Who am I anymore?

Jeffrey and I went to the dairy to get in on a little harvest action. I wore him in a front pouch and he promptly fell asleep as I scrambled up the side of the cutter. For a brief moment, I was back. The radio chatter, the delicious smell of fresh silage, the grind of the well organized harvest wheel- one tractor and cart loading at a time… It felt so right. Who am I anymore?

The garden is doing well. The colorful canning shelves smile at me from the basement, reminding me of how blessed we are. Somehow the one zucchini plant outsmarted all the pests in the land and is CRANKING out zucchini. We eat it for breakfast, lunch and supper and share it with whoever we can just to get a bit of variety. And while my garden is still very much a joy in my world- it’s hard to figure out how to manage it around nap schedules and feeding times. Sometimes I have a small manager who goes with me. But his willingness to be there is typically short lived and sends me hurrying back to the house. Who am I anymore?

And the blog sits silently on the shelf, collecting dust: replaced by books about farm animals and nursery rhymes.

There are times that I remember the old days of travel adventures with a fond tug at the Ol heartstrings. Admittedly I got a strange lump in my throat when I revisited the harvest crew.

But then Jeffrey stares at me with the most trusting eyes and gives me the best grin. He waits until Dad comes into the house and proceeds to take over the conversation babbling to Dad about his day. I play silly games with him and he laughs like I’m the funniest thing in the world.

I might not have any clue who I am anymore- but I do know this: this is the best midlife crisis ever.

I’m so thankful that our Heavenly Father is constant in the ever changing seasons of life and that His Grace is Sufficient.

Kendra