Time rushes by and I don't think, don't feel, don't breathe in a moment. I have been slow to learn how to think throuh the noise and so I bury that girl who used to have a complete thought without interruption. The girl who was single, carefree, dreaming in candlelit poetry. What was I dreaming about? This life. I imagined and hoped for and prayed for a strong and faithful husband, rooms full of laughter and books and blankets. Here I am. Living that dream and so much more. Except for the hold of selfishness upon me. I didn't plan for that. My mom served her family selflessly, always husband and daughters first. I never knew to ask- did it hurt? Did you ever just want to pull your hair out and run and hide with earplugs lodged securely to drown out the needs and demands? I have to stop longing for a quiet space that doesn't exist around me. Let it exist inside of me. I have to feel and be thankful for the moment.
Water pours with the lifting of a handle and rushes over the pot I wash. I slow down and really feel the smooth sides of the vessel that held food for my children. The children who giggle and chase and sing, "...here I am to worship..." at the top of their lungs over and over. Gazing out the window into the winter darkness I see nothing but the reflection of candlelight from the other room. I hear a big sister say to a little sister, "It's okay, you can twirl without a skirt on." I hear a strong man and a capable son rolling paint onto walls of a bedroom being made for a new son and his very excited big brother. And I am thankful. I am in the moment. Still, not rushing.
Lord, teach me to be thankful through the chaos and embrace the moments and not let the days rush by without noticing Your grace and goodness in each moment.