a song and a sigh for the weary

hard times. perhaps it's daylight savings time. or maybe it's the warmer weather and the skinny remains of sunlight lingering past bedtime. it could be the pushing through of new teeth or the lengthening of bodies demanding more food.

i find myself annoyed.

it's not so much the curiousity of my children, the experimentation they insist upon as they learn about life and living. i can handle gently guiding them towards the right and good. i can handle removing tempting objects and practices from their little fingers, their brilliantly inquisitive minds.



i am a mother, strong, with warm hands and heart, with spirit and sparkle and a ready smile. i feel these waves of light and love and joy come over me and am overwhelmed. my boys believe me to be strong. and when i cry they are confused. henry pats my shoulder and says, "don't cry about it." how can i explain the complicated twists of my grief to a person who crumples at the smallest of disappointments, at problems with simple solutions?

these boys are not overly needy, they are simply children. henry collapses on the stairs on the way up for his nap and cries out, "help me, mommy!" and i push away my feelings of irritation when i see him there, trying not to think, "you have legs -- walk!" i pick him up and he holds me tightly and gently says, "thank you, mommy."

maybe the gratitude of these boys makes it easier. the milky smile and sweaty hair of jude as he snuggles up to me all through the night. the proclamation, "i LOVE you, mommy!" of henry as i help him drift off to sleep. the peace they find knowing that they can trust me to be kind to them. perhaps these make it easier to continue on?

i feel the constant reminder to bear the burdens of my children. to lay down my life for them. to carry them when they are weak. how is it that i am the strong one? this is a mystery to me -- that God has entrusted these lives, these pieces of eternity to me for mothering.

for a splintering moment i want to hide.

i pray daily for the fruit of the Spirit, for love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control, to be evident in me as i work to help these children grow.

perhaps martin luther put it best:

After Christ had redeemed us, renewed us, and made us his church, he gave us no other law but that of mutual love. To love is not to wish one another well, but to carry one another's burdens--that is, things that are grievous to us, and that we would not willingly bear.

special thanks to tulipgirl.