It is now morning and it is ten till seven. The sun is coming up slowly, but there is still the hint of darkness that covers the earth. Little Man woke up at half past six [an earlier rising than normal], even though he got to bed an hour later than normal. I feed him some milk and insist he goes back to bed knowing that his tired and sick body needs the rest. After jumping into the shower, I saunter downstairs. I still hear him crying, screaming. Surely he will wake Big Sis and the Preacher [who got in last night at 3am after a 6 1/2 hour car trip from Louisville, KY]. I have a decision to make... my bible sits on the window sill... it is calling to me to come explore the Words inside and let them resonate within me.
....All I can hear is the scream of another calling to me and it is shaking my insides up as well.
I have a decision to make... I chose the prayer bench. I move all of the magazines that are piled on the floor and make "space" for me to commune. I find the day old sippy cup filled with milk that we were looking for yesterday buried below. I move it aside and "make room."
But the screams of little man continue to rattle my brain, I try to focus. Every thing I read is a blur.
"Lord, help me this day to be the kind of mom you want me to be. Help me to see my children through your eyes. Give me patience and strength and help me to dwell in you." Things become clearer.
No comments:
Post a Comment