It's too much and I'm too tired.  The fixing of one mess only leads to the recognizing of another, which I start to remedy only to find a third.  By the time I get to the end of the domino effect, my knees are sore, my head is pounding, and four children have called me forty-seven times and why can't I ever just finish one thing before I start another - if I could remember that one thing in the first place.  It's too much and I'm too tired and the peanut m&ms I'm popping on the way through the kitchen don't even help anymore.  Papa, I can't do this anymore because on top of it all are the things that actually matter.  Like respect and compassion, kindness and love, honesty and integrity.  Or heck, even just table manners.  I can't shape their behaviour and pour into their hearts and pick up their stuff and make their snacks and sing their songs and delight in their ideas and photograph their moments and appreciate their presence and do their laundry and meet their needs.  Papa, it's too much and I'm too tired and can't she just sleep through the night and can't they just pick up their own damn toys and wet towels and listen the first time?  Papa, where is Your glory or Your grace or Your goodness or any of You in all of this?

Bedtime

Sweaty neck curls your dark hair

Rhythmic sucking slows as breathing deepens

Eyes gaze out the glass until they glass over

Pink pajamas crease against mine 

All is right in this moment 

Except that the wrong heartbeat is lulling you to sleep

I wouldn't have it any other way

And yet I desperately would

You are the show-er of splendour.  Open my eyes that I may dwell in the heart of your glory and grace.

The weight in my arms is just the outward manifestation of the weight in my heart.  I unbuckled her from the carseat and she became mine to love and care for.  Maybe not forever, but day in and day out for as long as she will need.  And with her came the weight of her past and her unknowns.  Lord, grant me the grace to carry those burdens with her and treat them and her with the loving respect they deserve.  Grant me the joy to delight in who You have created her to be as I learn to love in a new way.

Psalm 88: 2, 9, 13

My prayers come before You; Your ear is tuned to my cries.  As I walk through this day, Lord, I call to You Who Listens to my words, my heart, my silence.  Open hands stretched out to You, may I let go of the need for my ways, my plans, my desires, my childish game of control.  In the morning my prayer comes before You and all day long You whisper back Your glorious goodness into my middle moments.

Remember When

Remember when I awoke in Your embrace?  When the rhythm of my soul echoed the footsteps of Your spirit treading through my home?  When the sighs of my day were wrapped in Your glorious grace and the moments of beholding were frequent and meaningful?  As the deer pants for the water, so my soul longs for You, Papa.  I miss our closeness and Your moment-by-moment care for me.  I miss our closeness and my moment-by-moment clinging to You.  I miss the overflowing of joy into thanksgiving.  Of struggle into reliance.  Of silence into song.  Of breath into praise.

Thunderous Peace

For where His glory thunders like the mighty waters, Hi grace drizzles gently and I am humbled yet  again.  I am washed clean of my allegiance to pride and perfection, refreshed as I step out from under storm clouds of my own making.  I lift my head up to soak up the brilliance of His face.  This One whose blazing radiance overwhelms as He opens heaven here.  And there.  And there again.  And I find myself under the umbrella of His unending grace, where He showers His glory moment by moment.