Last night I sat on the porch swing alone and took in a breath of serene. I had nothing in my hands but rest. The fireflies’ intermittent glow was mesmerizing, as I listened to the cicadas’ serenade. My thoughts came to rest on goodness – even my weariness is a daily reminder of my dependence on God. I sighed a short prayer. My Father’s good pleasure allows me the lives of these babies that I so delight in!
In the clear air above me the stars hung low. I felt small, but not insignificant – the day had been a sacrifice of love. Everyday, it seems, my life is imperfectly offered to others. My body was a chair, my body was a cradle, my body was a soft and gentle comfort. I am used, fulfilled, and content.
It was not that yesterday was harder than other days. There was nothing exceptionally draining about it. I craved the tranquility and stillness of that porch-swing moment – the quietness to pray and reflect. Evening solitudes help me get my heart and mind ready for the beautiful mess of the tomorrows.
On that swing, my heart overflowed as I continued to pray for the children – for the moments of the day that they probably will never even remember. I pray for the big one who needs to lean on God to overcome, for the child that didn’t listen to instruction, for the boy who asks questions and tells jokes, for the one who was unkind and needed discipline, for the girl that can’t sit still long enough to eat her breakfast, for the little one that had a difficult time smiling at a kind stranger with a complement. They may never remember these days, but the moments shape me and make me grateful. Mine certainly isn’t an extra-ordinary life, but a life filled with Extra-ordinary Grace.
May my children know today how deeply they are known by God.
with love. Damaris