The screams begin sometime around seven in the morning. They pierce through the static of the monitor resting dutifully on my nightstand and radiate down deep into my heavy slumber. And that’s where my day begins, hunkered over the changing table trying to barter a fresh diaper for a smile.
And I quell them for a time, the screams. I silence them just in time to find them again in the empty fridge or the overflowing sink or the pile of laundry on the couch. They shriek at me all day through urgent email requests and staff meetings and a persistent influx of unread messages in my inbox.
My world is loud. It is fast-paced and dizzying and utterly exhausting.
And the most precarious thing about it is that I’ve allowed it to be so. I’ve numbed myself under the pressure of urgent — always going, going, going. I’ve spent days hunched over my laptop determined to find the bottom of my inbox, my eyes transfixed on the glow of the screen while Judah sat beneath with his eyes transfixed on me.
But it didn’t start this way, no. It was a slow crescendo, the kind that gradually increases in volume until all you hear is a slow and steady ringing in your ears. And the demands, they always seemed to find their way through the everyday noise until it was the only sound I heard.
So, I quit my job.
I quit because the digital screams began to drown out the organic ones. I realized that when I began wagering with episodes of Mickey Mouse so that I could send just
But the work never abated. And so I spent almost every living second of Judah’s sleeptime working, trying desperately to appease those frantic screams. And that’s when the screams of my own heart silenced — the ones that begged me to live and dare and dream. That’s when I lost myself to the clamor of the chaos.
And now here I am, standing at the edge of a precipice, peering into the blackness of the unknown before me. And it’s exciting, really, to finally have the ability to live out those silent stirrings on my heart. But it is there that a new scream start to emerge. It is one that belittles my dreams and shouts, “you can’t do this.”
But here’s the thing, this life — this wild and daring adventure — is meant to be lived. So what are we all doing, I wonder? Why are our eyes enslaved to the glow of our screens? Why are our hearts tethered to the sound of the beeps?
I want to live. I want to devour every breath with freedom and passion and hold my boys with an aching love. I want to be undistracted to the screams that matter, the screams that fill my heart with life, real life.
There’s a calling on your heart, dear friends. It speaks to you in the deepest recesses of your soul. You can feel it tugging at you, I know you can.
Follow that tug.
And when the screams of doubt fill your heart with fear, let them succumb to the fiery passion from you doing what you were put on this earth to do.