just out of reach


It should be right at my fingertips

It ought to be easy to handle

It looks to be simply waiting

But sometime in the night the atmosphere shifted

Structures changed

Fluidity was lost

A solid was formed

Clear as glass

Smooth as pebbles in sand

The illusion that nothing has altered

Nothing needs alter in me

Is a sneaky trick

The sun in November is the same sun as July

But the course of its path has been shortened

The strength of its ray is strangled

Same sun

Modified projection

I see the sun

I sense its healing power to raise my spirits

But it just cools my tea

It leaves my upturned face cold in the wind

I understand and prepare for the change in the seasons:

Knitted gloves replace rubber flip flops

Deck furniture hauled in

Boots lugged down

How could I overlook the task of increasing 4 children to 5?

"Just during the day"

"Just four days a week"

"He naps"

"One-year-olds are nothing new to me"

Those things I say are not standing up

Like snow in April I was caught off guard

Did not acknowledge the extra weight on a weak vessel

Off kilter

But keep trying to draw the same straight lines all the same

But my heart has enlarged

My pocket book has a comfy bulge

Satisfied and thankful with that

I now must twist and bend

Stretch and creatively flow from one task to another

so i don't break


I know my last post listed lots of going-ons we have experienced preventing me from doing what I love.  From doing what I need. 

I didn't lie or exaggerate.  But here it is Thursday of a pretty low key, minimal amount of stress week: and I feel as if I am running from one incomplete task to another.  No breaths between.  No satisfaction of completion.  No quiet spaces.  No stepping out of the domestic for the creative.

Why? Why? Why? I ask myself.

Like a blockhead trying to reach for an object under clear ice, trying to warm herself in weak November rays.

Today taking care of this little guy, while warming up mushy noodles, searching for bibs, hoping I don't smell poop again, and hollering at the babe not to pull kittie's tail, I am getting frustrated that I still have not prepared for my lesson.

That's right- on the day I do not babysit I volunteer teaching at what is call Character Education.  It's spiritual education for public school elementary aged children whose parents wish for that to be provided for their children.

As I type this out I am shaking my head-seeing it in black and white.

That is a lot.

On top of my pre-existing a lot.

I love it though.

I love providing a happy secure place for a tender forming toddler.

I love using cash and not plastic for all those unexpected things a family of six needs each week.

I love explaining to a small group of children that they are body, soul, and spirit. I let them talk, I make them laugh, and I tell them they have value, and that value comes from God.  And Jesus really is who He said He was.

I do not love simply trying to get through and survive each day. Always running late, always falling behind; cringing when another person asks me something.

This morning while standing in the sun that was not warming me, but making feel better anyway I admitted in prayer I need tangible direction as to what needs to change. 

A few answers are drifting down to my mind. 

As a woman I do a host of things; preforming various acts for a sundry of persons.  If I have to do all these things for all these people why do I think I can simply stride on alone? 

Family is not singular. 

Nor is it a one way street. 

My responsibilities have increased.  Good ones; that are bringing blessings.  I should feel no guilt, but relief that I have a family that can work together to shoulder the responsibility, to lessen the burden, to increase the joy.

But that is not how woman, mothers in particular think, is it?

Well, it's how I am starting to think.  {Mr. MS spotting the signs of fissures and cracks has been making himself more available already}. This newly declared family philosophy is one my girls had better quickly learn to embrace.

And I promise, I will try to in part it with grace.


One thought on “just out of reach

  1. Love this post. (again… another…) Love hearing of your mental, emotional, spiritual metamorphosis as a woman. Please always remember that YOU are a blessing! All these people you care for, nurture, love, guide — YOU are their blessing.
    Cheers back to you!


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