Tongue Tied

So, there I was, hobbling through my only semi-busy life, attempting to find a balance that allowed me to homeschool, clean my house, do ministry at church, study stuff, help my mom, take pictures when it suited me, read books, and binge watch Netflix on occasion. And even though there wasn't really that  much on my plate, I still had a hard time fitting it all in. So, I did the most logical thing. I got a job. I know, right? To clarify, I didn't go looking for a job. It was actually the last thing on my mind. But one sorta fell in my lap, like a bug from the ceiling. But unlike the usual bug-jobs that come along, I didn't instantly sweep it off my lap with a screech, because, as I thought about it, it seemed like something that was reasonable for me to do. Maybe even enjoyable eventually. On paper, it's perfect. I'll be shooting real estate photography for a good sized firm. It's in my field. It's NOT portrait or wedding photography. It's flex...

I feel like I'm moving at the speed of light, but simultaneously frozen. I guess that's why I've heard this stage of life referred to as "the blur". My twenties were characterized by life-altering events like marriage and becoming a parent and buying a home and attempting to "find myself". Well, I feel like I successfully located myself at around thirty. I became comfortable in my identity. I identified the parts of me that needed to change and the parts that God had specifically designed for me. I accepted that I would never be super-skinny or good at being extremely busy. Climbing into me resulted in God allowing me to accomplish some really cool things, like co-writing a book, learning how to teach, learning to somewhat play the piano, developing a passion for photography, and cutting myself some slack in the parenting department.  But here I am, not having any sort of identity crisis, but still feeling lost in my life. Having a lot of roles means ...