i settle into my spot with my coffee and His words. moments later i hear tiny feet scurrying across the floor and to my side. almost IN my side, she can never get close enough. i welcome her to the day and so begins the requests for television.
no tv before studies, i remind her.
i feel frustration take it's place.
i look up to the chalkboard, silently reading Hebrews, reminding myself to encourage her toward love and good deeds. encourage her. encouragement and frustration cannot exist in the same place. one will take precedence. i fight the ladder.
the sun rises and so do the other darlings. a home that was silent just moments earlier is now so loud thoughts are no longer heard. three that need. three that want to be heard. three that are mine to grow and groom and love.
i walk over, holding the tiny one that steals my heart with her wrinkled-nose-no-teeth-smile, to turn music on, gungor radio sends calm through the air. deep breath followed by an internal pep talk and vomit. yes vomit, everywhere. i'm covered, she's covered, the carpet is covered. the big kids are laughing hysterically because heaven knows bodily functions are their life blood at five and three.
i know what the day holds and for a moment i want to run. run far far away. i want to strap on my tennis shoes put music in my ears, the kind that drowns out the frustration, and run until my side hurts.
yet the only running i will do today will be to the bathroom, baby in hand, to place her over the toilet.
i want to run, He wants me to see.
see Him. see Him in tiny faces. see Him in vomit stained carpet. see Him in requests that go unmet. see Him in the asking. see Him in the mundane, every day. this is where He resides, if only i will have eyes to see for He makes beautiful things, out of the dust....out of us.
let us have eyes to see today.