Time for bed and I'm thinking back over the day. In this quiet, with lovely Christmas lights and dark shadows, it is hard for me to believe that I thought I was going to fall apart just a few hours ago- when the baby was just going to bed and the children were using their outside voices downstairs and the dinner was still out and the dishes piles and everything a mess.
I felt very puddley, bowing my head against the stove and begging the Lord to carry me with His grace. The big boys whispered that I was crying and I guess they decided that maybe they should bring things down a notch and even help me. L was sent upstairs and she fell asleep listening to praise songs while I did dishes (doesn't that melt your heart?). T went to play trains.
And there are still dishes. But I played Uno with the three boys and nursed the baby again and prayed blessings over my girl.
The days feel so impossibly full and I resent feeling rushed to get in all that feels important. Each night I go to bed weary and yet wondering if I did enough of the "right" things that day. What a humbling season! Or maybe my life will always be this! There is little me and so many needs around me and I keep messing up. My words are often quick and harsh and I know I'm not the mom/wife/person I want to be.
And yet... there is a gorgeous poinsettia on the counter next to me- a gift from a visitor yesterday. Really, a gift from my good Father. (I said I would like one but couldn't buy one and He gifted it to me!) It is bright and beautiful and just looking at it fills me with hope. There is hope for puddley me because He came and entered into my mess and is drawing me up to Him.