Hope

I've mastered the art of slipping silently out of beds rested on iron frames. I'm basically a ninja. It may be one of my greatest accomplishments. Every night I slip in and out of my own bed at least once--usually twice--to put a sleeping child back to bed. Tonight I snuck out of Genevieve's bed after calming her from a wild bad dream. Her bed frame is louder than mine, so the sheer art of my routine is fairly amazing.

I'm actually sitting at the top of the stairs in the pitch black, listening to the white noise of the three different box fans placed in the kids' bedrooms. It's funny how the noise of a fan can calm you. It does me.

I was throwing my sweatshirt over my underwear as I was about to head downstairs in search of my computer when I met Genevieve at the top of the stairs. Disoriented and confused, she looked at me through mostly-asleep eyes and whispered, "I had a bad dream." I lead her back to bed and stroked her forehead until her breathing deepened. Bad dreams are regular occurrences in this house, and truth be told, I'm not sure if bad dreams are actually happening or if the kids just need extra love at night, but bad dreams might be the slow death of me, even if I admit that the death is the sweetest death. Comforting a sleepy child and coaxing them back to sleep is something I should really add to my resume because not only am I good at it, but I also love it.

I was going to grab my computer because I had a few things on my mind, and my dad not so gently reminded me that it was time to update my blog. I just uploaded pictures (from October) from my camera, so dad...I promise those will come soon. Wink, wink. But for now, you get me, and I hope that's enough.

I've been thinking a lot this year. I swear my tombstone (although I hope not to have a tombstone...I've decided I just want my body donated to science), but if I have a memory stone, it will read--Janine Doot: Died by too much salt consumption and too much thinking.

I don't really have a point to this blog post except to say that in all my thinking, I often find myself contemplating choices, especially my choices. I've thought of my choice to leave Arizona before the age of 18 and go to BYU. I've thought about the many majors I dabbled in and the thousands of dollars I had to pay back for said majors, but how those failed majors have shaped my life, particularly sociology and philosophy. I've thought about the boys I broke up and the boys I didn't have the courage to break up with so I just remained stuck in dead relationships. I've thought about the decision to go on a mission and then the decision to postpone said mission for another dead relationship. I've thought about how that postponement changed the trajectory of my life. I've thought about the first time I smelled Tim's cologne and the uneasy fluttering in my stomach. I've thought about the sparkly eyeshadow I wore on our first date (why?!). I've thought about the decision we made independently to get married while eating bread at Outback Steakhouse. I've thought of the morning of our wedding and seeing him waiting for me outside the temple. His smile that day will forever remain with me. I've thought of how hard it was for me to accept the fact that we were going to have a baby. And then another baby. And then how easy it was for me to want a million babies. I've thought about the day my ideas about faith, particularly my faith, began to change and how difficult has been to build a solid road of faith since and yet a partial road has been rebuilt. It's currently stuck, but give it time--the work will pick up again in time (at least I hope). I think about how Tim looked the day I told him I didn't think I believed what I was always taught to believe and how that face has changed over the years because of love and understanding and years of patient waiting. I've thought about what a great team we are. I've thought about all our moves and how they've made us happy in our own space, not longing to expand it much but always welcome to letting people in. I've thought about my missteps in friendships and how I've lost some and grown some out of those missteps. I've thought about the many people who unknowingly guide me. I've thought a lot about my mistakes. I've tried to think about my successes, but I often find it easier to focus on my mistakes instead of my successes. But I have thought about one of my great successes a lot, which is how much I've grown into motherhood and how much I have grown to love it. And I guess if I am being honest I have thought mostly about God.

I have felt very distant from God this year. I'd like to blame the distance on God, but I know that is not the case; I just want it to be the case. In all my thinking about him, I find myself wanting to feel Him and know Him more. And the more I lean in to what feels like an imaginary friend, the less I feel His presence. And that is what keeps me awake at night while Tim sleeps on. I wonder what life is all about--where I fit, if I'm enough, if He loves me, if I love him, if I get him, if He gets me, if what I hope is real. And that can feel rather heavy, especially late at night.

I hope God is real. And that I am enough. And that you're enough. And that all the people in the world are enough. I don't always know how to blend my secular thoughts with my spiritual thoughts, but the common thread is hope. I hope that He is aware of the mom bouncing her crying baby in the night. Or the grandparent sitting alone in a rocking chair, hoping anyone will call. Or the politician that has a heavy conscience. Or the child that lost his favorite toy at a park. Or the runner that didn't win the race she was meant to win. Or the person getting fired for "it not just being the right fit." Or the man or woman sitting in traffic with too much on his/her mind. Or for the woman wondering if she can still claim postpartum depression 3 years since her last birth. Or the gay or lesbian teenager trying to figure out who they are and who they will be and who will support them along on that path. The list goes on.

My hope tonight--on this daylight savings' eve when I should be asleep--is that we can hold on to hope that God is real and that He loves us and that He knows us. That he is championing the way for us, even if that way is broken and often full of mountains. I hope that we can feel some light along the road. This is my daily mantra until I know it again because right now I do not know it. I have known it, and I know I'll know it and lose it again more than 1 more time in my life, but what I do have is hope. Hope for a very bright day tomorrow full of faith and love.