Ebbs and Flows and Pink Puffy Clouds
I haven't been doing life well this past week. I'm tired. The balance of home, kids, marriage, budgets, school, jobs, friends, parties, cleaning, writing, dreaming are all looking me in the face. I go to sleep and wake up and do it all again.
How I love my kids and how I've been fighting to mother them while holding my own, vying for the life in me while trying to give them life. As much as I wish I could do both with vibrant enthusiasm, most days they battle each other. I want to give all I am and then I want to break away. How can I be free? How can I be a servant?
I haven't been communicating well with Phil. I haven't been believing God's love for me. I'm grasping again. Ebbs and flows of life. So much humanity and so much spirit.
Before I left the house tonight for my weekly shift at the YMCA I got mad. I slammed my purse on the table and muttered that all I wanted was peace. The house was a mess, dinner was unappetizing, the kids were crying and yelling while Phil was emptying the dishwasher with a bit of angst.
We haven't been our best, but as I drove to work the darkening sky was covered with the most delicate pink puffy clouds. And God whispered to me, "Look, my love for you is in the sky!" And I cried. I put my hand on my heart and asked that the same love I was seeing in the sky could be real in my chest, real in my core.
I want baby Jesus love today. I want Resurrection love. I want healing cripple love and walk on water love.
Yes, please.
How I love my kids and how I've been fighting to mother them while holding my own, vying for the life in me while trying to give them life. As much as I wish I could do both with vibrant enthusiasm, most days they battle each other. I want to give all I am and then I want to break away. How can I be free? How can I be a servant?
I haven't been communicating well with Phil. I haven't been believing God's love for me. I'm grasping again. Ebbs and flows of life. So much humanity and so much spirit.
Before I left the house tonight for my weekly shift at the YMCA I got mad. I slammed my purse on the table and muttered that all I wanted was peace. The house was a mess, dinner was unappetizing, the kids were crying and yelling while Phil was emptying the dishwasher with a bit of angst.
We haven't been our best, but as I drove to work the darkening sky was covered with the most delicate pink puffy clouds. And God whispered to me, "Look, my love for you is in the sky!" And I cried. I put my hand on my heart and asked that the same love I was seeing in the sky could be real in my chest, real in my core.
I want baby Jesus love today. I want Resurrection love. I want healing cripple love and walk on water love.
Yes, please.
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