Being 30 weeks pregnant is kicking my butt.
Well, let's be honest, being the mother of a 2-year old, pastoring a church plant and being 30 weeks pregnant is kicking my butt, but for now, let's blame the pregnancy.
I remember doing it all right the first time around - eating right, exercising regularly, reading the book every month and following the preparation checklist. This time...well, let's just say I've already had two pieces of dark chocolate this morning and I'm currently drinking a diet Coke (I don't even like diet Coke!).
So what's the difference? Reality.
Last time I had the luxury of soaking it all in and letting the pregnancy be the number one thing in my life. This time, there's no checking out of the day-to-day. If my 40-pound 2-year old needs picked up, I pick him up. If a meeting needs to be had and 6am is the only time to do it, then 6am it is.
Truth is, I prefer it this way. I know, wait, that's not where it seemed like this was going. But, it's true. Given the choice between utopia and reality, I choose reality...every time. Why? Because it's real. Because reality is where we're stretched and challenged, changed and inspired.
It's the same thing as saying "I wish I had one of those jobs where you checked in and checked out and didn't have to worry about anything." For starters, I don't think those jobs exist. And while there are moments that I long for that, I know I would be bored out of my mind.
I'm thinking this is part of the reason God sent Jesus. God could have stayed out of the mess and fixed everything magically from a realm outside of human reality, but instead He chose incarnation. He chose to come and be with us - in the mud, in the every day, in the stress and the balancing act and the uncertainty.
Did you catch that? The Creator of the universe who could have it any way chose reality, our reality.
It's here in reality where I learn more everyday to trust God for all that I can't control. It's here in reality where I shed tears that even I can't explain, the kind that can only by comforted by a Father who knows my innermost being. It's here in reality that I get that Jesus' sacrifice was truly a sacrifice. It cost Him everything to come and die for me.
So, I'm 30 weeks pregnant, half of our 4-person church staff is currently missing, my 2-year old is in an "I don't want to go to bed at night" phase, and still, I'm thankful.