I think I have always had a little disdain for the mundane.
I like movement. I like ideas. I like having something to look forward to. A new project, a trip, a goal, something that makes life feel like it is moving.
The ordinary can feel a little too ordinary for me.
Take the kids to school. Go to work. Pick them up. Homework. Extracurricular activities. Cook dinner. My husband gets home from work. Get everybody bathed and in bed. Finish my clinical notes.
Then do it all over again.
For a long time, I think I confused a meaningful life with a life that always had something happening.
But lately I have been realizing that most of life is mundane.
The things we once prayed for eventually become ordinary.
Marriage becomes the person walking through the door at the end of the day.
Motherhood becomes homework, rides, bedtime, and my boys leaving cups all over my house.
The career I worked so hard for becomes a regular workday and notes that still need to be finished at night.
The blessing becomes routine.
And maybe that is not a bad thing.
Maybe ordinary is what happens when something beautiful becomes part of your everyday life.
I still love adventure. I still love something new. But I am learning not to rush past the life that is already happening while I wait for something more exciting.
There was a time when I probably would have called that boring.
Now I am learning to call it life.
Some days are simply Tuesday.
And Tuesday gets to matter too.
