My husband kicked me out of the house after dinner tonight, probably because my distress and frustration was palpable.
So I took a walk around the neighborhood, counted fireflies, listened to the trill of the cicadas, and heard the soft swish of the train in the distance. I thought about how often I lost my patience with my son today, and cringed. I thought of how many tasks I had left unfinished, and sighed. I prayed for forgiveness and grace and strength.
Motherhood is hard. Some days it breaks you and sucks the life out of you and makes you wonder if you'll ever be whole again. Some days it's not at all like that, but today it was. Today was ruled by my warped expectations and my should's and shouldn'ts. Those are harsh and heavy rulers, and they have no care for the moral of the story of motherhood: to give life. To give LIFE. Somehow in the hustle of today I had forgotten that; I had forgotten to receive and give life.
I caught a lightening bug, and held it in hand with my warped and crumbled expectations. And then I let them all go.
For with you, God, is the fountain of life; in your light do we see light. Psalm 36:9
Originally posted on Instagram here.