Fighting for peace (Or: A view of my chaotic mind)

I sat in front of the brightly lit screen, the words in front of me colliding with various thoughts in my mind. Yet another millennial, another mother of young children ,had written a book. I was so excited to see a young woman-and a mother of little kids at that-pursuing her dreams and bringing her voice into the literary realm. However, even though I know that "comparison is the thief of joy," as they say, the old questions and doubts began firing away in my mind and heart. 

Why haven't I written as many freelance articles as I clearly could have by this point? 
Why haven't I written a book-or at the very least, written more than a page or two? (let's not count how many 1-2 page "books in progress" I have laying around...)
Why do I put most of my writing time towards my blog-which is "for fun," and a creative outlet-instead of working on "professional projects," earning money, and getting my name out there? 

But why can't I just let go of the urge to write professionally and be satisfied with scribbling on my blog while being a stay-at-home-mom? After all, kids grow quickly, and I will never get this time back with my little ones. 



However, if I've noticed anything from my friends with more years of parenting experience, it's that as kids get older, parents get busier. Even one of my elderly neighbors is far busier than I ever am.  It seems like right now, this moment where I only have two young kids, is an optimal time to get writing in. 

And yet, what's the rush? If I DID complete more professional writing projects, and landed a book deal before the age of 30-well, then what? What would I be working towards then? Plus, wouldn't it be better to cultivate my skills as a writer and gain more valuable experiences prior to writing a book? 

Isn't it nice to have some mornings when, instead of getting up and hammering away on my laptop or sketching out ideas in my notebook, I peacefully relax in bed? Mornings where, through the small beams of sunlight that seep into the room, I see my baby sleeping quietly, my husband breathing gently from the pillow next to mine-do I really want to give these up in order to pursue my craft? 

All of these-and more-were flying through my head, crashing into each other as I frantically began searching the internet for various resources that would help me achieve whatever goals I could think of at the moment. Through this internal chaos, I heard my husband's voice summoning me to prayer. I grabbed the baby from where he squealed on the floor nearby and we sat on the couch with my husband and toddler. We crossed ourselves, folded our hands in prayer, and began a time of silent reflection (as silent as our toddler and baby would allow, that is). As I tried to slow my spinning mind, God spoke to my heart:

Focus your gaze on Me. 

My eyes rested on the crucifix, which my husband had set on a tote in front of us. And I focused my gaze on that image of Jesus, dying on the cross. 

I am a pretty content person most of the time. But, there are occasions when I suddenly panic, wondering if what I'm doing is what I should be doing. If I need to be doing "more." If I'll ever achieve my big goals and dreams. 

I need to constantly remember to bring my eyes-my life-my heart-back to Jesus, who was nailed on the cross out of passionate love for me. Jesus, who went through the kind of suffering that I can't comprehend. Jesus, who faithfully and steadily gave himself completely for sinners. 

Our home is brimming with crucifixes in a variety of sizes, so I frequently see this image of Christ's sacrifice as I go throughout my day. The crucifixes that stand on countertops (or that my toddler puts in random spots) cause me to stop and pray, lifting my heart to God. And yet, even with all of the images that draw my thoughts towards God, my gaze slips. I grow distracted by my goals, hopes, dreams. I grow distracted by the noise of the world. I grow distracted by unhealthy comparisons that push me into discontent instead of pushing me into self-improvement and growth.  

I desperately need God in my life. I thirst for his graces and I rely on his sacraments. I yearn for his peace. Jesus is the Prince of Peace, and I need his peace to fill my life. St. Paul encourages the Colossians to "let the peace of Christ control your hearts, the peace into which you were also called in one body. And be thankful" (Col 3:15). 

God does not want me to live in a state of frenzied, chaotic crisis. Instead, I need to let his peace control my heart. I need to live my life in thanksgiving and joy, even-especially-in times of sorrow or difficulty. I need to continually dive deeper into silence with God, so that I may hear his voice, discern his will, and not get so focused on the fact that I technically could be doing more than what I am currently doing. 

Source.

Maybe I'll just keep blogging, and not take my rambles any further than this corner of the internet. Maybe I'll have a book deal by the time I'm 30. Or 50. Or maybe I'll never have a book deal. No matter what does or doesn't happen, one thing is guaranteed: the sacrificial love and peaceful gaze of my Crucified Lord. I need to keep my eyes focused on him. The entirety of my writing-the entirety of my life-needs to glorify God. So that's what I'm going to try to do.