retreat

I went on the BEST mom's retreat ever this past weekend.

Hallelujah.

Twenty women from my mom's group rented out all but one room of a bed and breakfast, and the entire adjacent guest house. We played games. We laughed. We ate pizza and cheesecake.

We felt a little sorry for the couple that was sharing the house with us. We tried to keep our enthusiasm under control....but when someone has to mime diarrhea....

We disbanded to our rooms sometime after midnight. Neighboring rooms visited a little later into the night.

Morning came and we gathered again for breakfast.

Biscuits with sausage gravy, blueberry coffee cake, and fresh fruit.

Divine.

I glanced at the couple across the room. Feeling like I should go over and offer my apologies for the night before.

But the woman got up and came over. She spoke to one of the gals in our group, who then pointed her to our leader. She whispered something and then stood in front of us all.

She and her husband, a pastor, wanted to take a moment to offer us encouragement. She said the most wonderful words. She shared her journey with us. She said, "when you can answer 'yes' or 'no', take another moment to explain. Before you know it, your children will be off on their own."

She told of the times she and her husband would pray at night.

Of how God blessed her with a job opportunity right out her back door once her kids went off to school.

The tears! You should have seen the tears streaming from our faces.

We said we had been worried the night before that we were disturbing them. She said they had been happy for us. Glad that a bunch of young mothers could sneak away and find refreshment and laughter.

It was refreshing.

Completely.

My problem?

I have no tulips. Or daffodils. None. Whatsoever.

This is a problem that must be remedied.

Quickly.

on a Saturday

There was a spot of sunshine on my living room floor. I stretched out onto it.

"What are you doing, mommy?"

"Stretching. It's like exercise."

That proved to be a good enough answer. Life continued all around me. My daughter, busy setting up books in her library. Wearing heels.

A battle waged five feet from my head between a penguin and Captain America.

My baby found a wooden spoon and metal bowl - that not fifteen minutes prior were props in a one woman play.

Laying in the warm sun I was keenly aware of my surroundings. I heard the click clack of shoes dangerously close to my fingers. My head only a few inches from a bowl being rung with the smacks of a wooden spoon.

A shadow covered me. I braced. False alarm. A snuggle. From my babe. With a bit of runny nose smeared on my cheek for good measure.

The library opened a north branch.

Angry howls from the war front. The Mach 5 is no where to be found.

I think I'd like Chinese take-out tonight.

Daddy's home

Or will be tonight.

He was only gone for three days.

Three too many.

We like it so much better when he's home.

(I like it so much better when he's home.)

blessed assurance

I've been imagining my life as a fragile object nestled in a web of delicate threads. The threads are composed of strong fibers that have been suspended from a wooden frame, held by a strong hand.

Life's events make this fragile object sway. Sometimes one or two delicate threads splinter and break....causing an uncomfortable shift in the balance. When a shift occurs, I can try to make adjustments myself. There are times when self-adjusting seems to work. However, more often than not, self adjustments only make the problem worse. Because I am not looking from the outside in. I am feeling from the inside out.

I find that I am much better off when I allow the strong hand to correct the balance. And I need to be patient when that strong hand lets me learn about trust and dependence while remaining imbalanced. Because He does have two hands. One to hold the frame. And the other to hold this fragile object.