You know that feeling when you jump from a great height into a freezing cold body of water? The shock of the temperature; the surge of adrenaline; the deep, desperate gasp of air as your face finally breaks the surface and you can breathe again?
Isn't it wonderful? That is my life.
For about two weeks I have officially been a home maker. I say two weeks not because I just started, but because two weeks ago summer break ended, teachers returned to work, and I didn't.
Like the hot, miserable soul, I dove into a freezing river.
It is a great and glorious feeling full of excitement mixed with the tiniest twinge of apprehension. The shock-- was this really the best idea? Maybe I'll drown-- perhaps the promise of relief was not worth it after all. But it's the surfacing that makes the whole thing worth while. That deep gasp of breath-- the peace and joy of a risk well-taken.
With all of the costs counted, my husband and I jumped in together. Tonight we will do our first budget in two years that does not include my school checks. And we will swim.
So, as I sit here with my coffee and my cats, it's hard to hear all of those on the bank telling me I shouldn't have jumped. Because in the end, it's a whole other kind of drowning not to jump.