This Cycle

I'm here in this little corner of quiet, quiet in a broken wicker chair with faded, fraying cushions. Here in my bare faced, pajama clad self. A few moments of introspect, retrospect....time to inspect. Sit down with God and ask, "What did you thing of my behavior this last week?"

It was a tough week. I tried to stay true to our families 'standard operating procedures'. The struggles of one child say I didn't do a grand job.

They're always looking for the crack in the surface.
My daily uphill battle.
It is so hard. 

Hard to parent, hard to want to parent.
Hard to hold to the truth that the work I'm doing is molding, shaping.

My heart's longing? 

Children with souls hungry, thirsty for righteousness, forever panting for more of him, longing to serve and obey him all their lifelong days.

But those cracks, those chinks, that sin of mine.
How do I keep it from being a net they are forever tangled in?

Sometimes, so invisible and it wraps, twists and knots around their little ankles. And, like tangled jewelry they bring it to me to repair, make usable again, I must help them untangle and make visible what seems transparent and yet all the world can see, could see. I bend down to unwind, unknot and I find myself tripped with them in the same sordid sin.

I come back to my quiet little space, my broken chair and write, to search my soul. I read, to wash my mind. Pray, to receive his knowledge and wisdom.

I ask, beg, for his light to illuminate the invisible thread net that has brought me to my knees.

I find scarred hands assisting in the process.

I grow.

I ask how?
Now that I've shown, spoke, led in all the wrong ways,
How?

Lord, reveal to me how to bend down with them, with you, and untangle the mess.

I'm so diligent the first time and maybe even the second,  
but then I'm bored.

We've gone over this dozens of times and I don't want to go over it anymore. 

I'm a tangled mess....again.  

So, here I am in the cycle...
A hard fought week with only baby steps.
So small, but maybe, milestones?

I'm grateful for this moment working alongside him, holding his scarred hand.

Finding peace in the task of being. 

And I'll be better at heading into the busyness and life away from my quiet corner.

It's Amazing Love, his for me, mine for them, that whirls me through this cycle over and over again.

Peaceful Counting:

822.

Girlie #2's  photos of the Suzuki Samurai

823.

The Man happily tackling all the Tuesday Taxi Craziness so I can indulge.

826. 

A family on a field trip.

827.

New friends and attending their birthday parties with old  friends.

828.

Generations of Bride & Groom beauty gazing out from the picture frames in our house.

829.

Intimate talks with engaged  couples.

830.

The Dad calling to tell me tomorrow's moon will be closer than ever in 20 some odd years and  so we should be outside tomorrow eve to embrace it.

831.

The amazing beauty of The Small Blue Heron and having it cross the path right in front of me.

832.

A day spent in Florida Wetlands and so much room to breath.