I’m here in this little corner of quiet, quiet in a broken wicker chair with faded, fraying cushions. Here in my bare faced, pajama clad self. A few moments of introspect, retrospect….time to inspect. Sit down with God and ask, “What did you thing of my behavior this last week?”
It was a tough week. I tried to stay true to our families ‘standard operating procedures’. The struggles of one child say I didn’t do a grand job.
They’re always looking for the crack in the surface.
My daily uphill battle.
It is so hard.
Hard to parent, hard to want to parent.
Hard to hold to the truth that the work I’m doing is molding, shaping.
My heart’s longing?
But those cracks, those chinks, that sin of mine.
How do I keep it from being a net they are forever tangled in?
Sometimes, so invisible and it wraps, twists and knots around their little ankles. And, like tangled jewelry they bring it to me to repair, make usable again, I must help them untangle and make visible what seems transparent and yet all the world can see, could see. I bend down to unwind, unknot and I find myself tripped with them in the same sordid sin.
I come back to my quiet little space, my broken chair and write, to search my soul. I read, to wash my mind. Pray, to receive his knowledge and wisdom.
I ask, beg, for his light to illuminate the invisible thread net that has brought me to my knees.
I ask how?
Now that I’ve shown, spoke, led in all the wrong ways,
I’m so diligent the first time and maybe even the second,
but then I’m bored.
So, here I am in the cycle…
A hard fought week with only baby steps.
So small, but maybe, milestones?
I’m grateful for this moment working alongside him, holding his scarred hand.
And I’ll be better at heading into the busyness and life away from my quiet corner.