The first time in about six weeks my heart felt happy. Like happy down deep to my toes and I think it was because I got to have lunch with my best friend, her husband, and my husband. I didn't realize how much I missed her. Also how much joy she brings to me.
Also I've been missing my husband and after Friday when he deeply hurt my feelings and I give him the silent treatment I always remember how truly blessed and lucky I am to have my husband here with me, lying next to me, keeping me safe...even when I'm not going to talk to him because he's being a butthead. He's my butthead.
Also, I have a faithful friend who has been where I am who texts me every day without fail despite having a baseball team of children with illnesses going around (even sick herself) and she still messages me asking how my day was, offering to pray with me.
Also, I took a quilt class Saturday and had loads of fun but mostly, I had 4 hours of mommy adult time. Without kids. Without the baby. I missed them but it was SO good for me to get out and not be needed for a few minutes. I love being needed but when it's for their survival, it's exhausting. I love to be wanted, needed is hard.
How God has used this dark time to show me it's okay to need other people. Especially Him. It's okay to go a little easier on myself. It's okay to have my darling husband put his darling daughter to bed on Sunday evenings so I can watch the Sherlock season finale. It's good bonding time for them anyway.
It's good to have my whole life group come over, commandeer my kitchen and make everyone lunch.
It's okay to feel wiped out and call my parents, invite ourselves over, and have them make dinner.
I do not have to be perfect.
Who am I, that the eyes that see my sinWould look on me with love and watch me rise again.
I am the daughter of the one true King. I am the wife of a man who loves me more than I will ever know, so he tells me. I am the mother of two incredible, beautiful, angels from heaven who have saved me onced and I know will continue to save me daily- reminding me in their innocence to be more like them. They are the face of Jesus in my house. I strive to be like them.
I am so much more than dishes, laundry, and dirty carpet. I am so much more than forgetting the milk, loosing my temper, and getting hurt feelings over poorly timed comments.
I am the daughter of the I AM.
And that is enough