The Quiet Evening Moments

Forgive the language, but this really captures how I feel at the moment...

This evening I'm all alone...

...but not alone.

My littles are in bed, and I can unwind the tightly wound-ness that is my soul.

It starts in early morning, when I take that beginning strand of day, and slowly wind it in rhythm with the energetic pulsings of my ever-exuberant satellites.

It is hard to describe.

Motherhood has been the hardest thing I have ever done.

But once I threw myself into it, heart and soul, (and I'll be honest it took a while) joy like I've never known unfolded before me. It's like I'd been carrying around a box that had mysterious contents, and it wasn't until I sat down to really explore what was inside that I discovered that it was full of warm, summer morning sun peeking over the mountains: full of anticipation, light, and revelation.

I often regret that it took me so long to open that box.

But I'm grateful that my children are patient, and are just as excited about my discovery as I am.

And they, in turn, add a little bit more brightness and color (and sometimes intolerable heat, I'll be real with you) to my illumination.

So, this evening, I sit content.

I'm not perfect, and I'm certainly not a perfect mother. But I take this day's small victories and hold them up to God, as my offering, hoping that they will outshine the many cloudy moments.

My life is a true gift, and I feel blessed to have all these unique souls to share it with.