life is loud at this stage. our home echoes the pitter-patter of tiny feet, ages six, three and one. noise, oh the noise, makes this home joyful. for they are full of love. at least the most part is love. some days they are loving one minute and fighting the next. aren't we all wrestling the beast of self daily?
on the journey of becoming a peacemaker reveals the many moments that i am not. so i seek out those that have perfected this character and ask, how? this act alone was mighty, for pride is so big and stands firm in my way of reaching out. yet i did. what is your secret?
she answered humbly, because that's her. offering scripture and food for thought. i wrote down every word to revisit on the hard days.
the big girl helped me make hot pink play dough. she squealed with delight as the color turned. smiling so big her cheeks touched her eye lashes and you could see the space where three baby teeth used to be.
we laid out cookie cutters and a bowl full of play dough. one for her and one for her brother. they giggled when i gave them marshmallows for snack, a rare and precious treat. i sat with them and made hearts and snowmen, writing love notes on the paper.
i get up and down from my desk to help the little ones, my back catching each time. age, the great suitor, staking his claim on the days well past my youth. they make play dough cupcakes. i give them a candle for play and they sing happy birthday to one another. eisley says, to no one in particular, this is fun! i whisper, thankyoujesus.