I love the feel of words in my mind. How they roll around, collide with one another, bouncing and meshing for an emotional conglomeration. If you put soft words in a story together, weaving a tale about love and gentleness, the effect is as relaxing as a day at the spa. The words caress the heart and sooth the soul.
I am hungry for more words, for more time to experience language and art. I want to dress in flattering colors and fashions, taste the richness of new foods and sit in a dusty bookstore and inhale the linguistic drug.
I am more than a mother, and yet completely a mother. While my heart desires to experience the world, I want to share these experiences with my children and partake in their wonder and innocent questions.
I want to be a part of their world and for them to desire to be a part of mine. I wish I could hire a housekeeper and cook and bookkeeper so I could focus completely on their questions, their friendship, their upbringing. I want to learn how to love what they love, since I know they are their own people.
Lizzie is completely different from me and my heart hurts because I cannot understand her. I adore words, language, emotions, and she is drawn to numbers, puzzles, and artwork. We do have a love for music in common. I must build on this.
Please draw me closer to your heart. Give me “Jesus eyes” as my kids would say. Help my eyes to see past the whining, fits, exhaustive requests and endless work – to see the beauty and blessings, not the labor and demands.
I desire to know your love so intimately that I share it naturally and abundantly. I cry out with David, “Create within me a clean heart, oh God. And renew a right spirit within me.”
Peace. I have never found it in a bottle of wine, a bubble bath, or a shopping spree. Those small actions always led to a fleeting feeling of glee and bliss, that soon vanished like dandelions in the wind. As the child pokes a bubble and squeals with delight as it pops, so my pseudo peace is shattered as I re-enter reality.
I desire to enjoy the mundane parts of my blessed life. I want to play on the floor with my kids, patiently teach them how to care for the house with me, purposefully create a plan for instructing and raising them.
Life cannot be controlled, but it does not have to be lived as a reaction, either. I am not a victim and I do not have to be separated from my darling words nor my Bible Study and prayer.
Life is now. Words are everywhere, God’s words are eternally present. I choose to relish the blessings and gifts in my existence. I hear the sweet sounds of God’s praise ringing in my heart, I am living to lift HIM up!