Lost

Turning 40 did something to me. 

I started carefully examining my day. Choosing my activities with caution, my efforts with care. 

I realized I could be at the midway point in my life, or close to it, and I wondered if what I had done to this point had mattered. Really, really mattered. 

I started looking at *me* and tried to find where I was. 

But I was lost. 

Where had I went? Wait...who did I used to be? Who was I even looking for? I remember being Rebecca,  but not really. 

I'm a wife and a Mom now. 

I work. I cook dinners. I shuffle schedules. I do laundry. I... I lost me. 

So I've been on a journey of finding out who I am in this season. Not selfishly, that's not my goal. I am thankful to be the wife and Mom. I'm thankful to work, to cook, to all the things. 

But that does not define me.

I am a child of God. A woman. I drink too much coffee. I like walking in the cool of the day, talking with the Lord. I mentally take photographs all day long. I love a good rendition of Pie Jesu from Rutter's requiem. I love learning new things to the extent I want to learn to do something, and then I'm happy to leave it and learn something new. I enjoy being a Jill of all trades. I enjoy gardens, both flowers and veg. I love laughing, and don't prefer to be serious for too long. I love the BBC and all things British, Scottish, Irish. I enjoy a good mystery. Cooking is my love language; if I like you, I'll cook or bake you something. I secretly think I could still be a professional dancer. I love acting. I probably own too many apple or pumpkin scented candles. And I am so much more still.

I am still praying for vision. I am still finding me. I lost myself, but that doesn't mean I'm lost. Just misplaced, just hidden behind the demands of this season of life. I am worth finding. I am quietly present. I am still here. 

Rebecca