I sit here, the quiet is so loud. I’m a lucky mama…lucky enough to have sweet late sleepers so I get mornings to myself. I’m also a morning person and love getting up in the misty morning hours when the sun’s rays seem to be filtered through cheese cloth and the earth is waking with chirps and tweets.
This time is sacred. Sometimes I beat the sun up, sometimes I watch from my couch as the light slowly stretches her fingers across the wall, and I soak in the silence. I read. I write. I study. I sit and do nothing.
Pulling my steaming cup of life-sustaining liquid to my mouth – otherwise known as coffee – I contemplate the thoughts on my mind. Most of the time it has to do with parenting. How to do it better, repenting for previous days angers and frustrations, and praying for the Lord to provide me with the energy, strength, and patience to shepherd my little lambs well.
After some time, like a slow, steady rain, the sounds of wakefulness begin to trickle in. Drop by drop, babble and murmur, the house wakes. Quietly at first, and then with loud thunder cracks – MAMA! – the cloud bursts open and the down pour of children waking up cuts over my peaceful morning landscape. I am not bothered. Although, my tired mind and body offer up a prayer of desperate proportions, begging the Lord for his merciful grace.
I struggle with thoughts…thoughts that my precious gems are burdens. And if I am being an honest mom to you, I treat them as so sometimes. Impatience and snippy words betray my heart to them. But in mornings where I start out in prayer in the misty, morning quiet, the burden is then lifted and carried. Carried by my savior who loves me and died for me. You see, caring 24/7 for another human being…two little human beings…is hard work. It is a burden, but one I am inclined to bear. And with the help of my loving Jesus, it is one I don’t have to carry alone.