For Christmas Joel gave me several weekends "away" throughout the year (yep, he's smart and sweet, and mine!). So when he told me to "go away" this past weekend, it was not in exasperation but rather with an insight that I benefit from times of quiet to rest, pray, recollect my thoughts, and seek God's direction. And sleep in. So I stole away to a simple but lovely bed and breakfast in Ashland (about 20 minutes south of us - not too far, but just far enough). My headaches stopped, and I got to read more than 3 lines at a time! I also loved the yellow door to my room.
Coming home a world of alarms, medications, ear-piercing squeals of protest, and persistent requests for sweets was like facing a breaker wave, but my God is a strong tower and He never lets go. The days feel long and hard, but there is such joy in living. Joel just finished giving Oliver his medications and then joined the girls in their silly sing-song romp around the room, snatching them up each in turn for tickles and goofyness. (Why is the best time to play always just before bedtime?) It all got quiet for a moment - they must be getting ready for bed - and here comes Nora, in her favorite activity of streaking through the house in her two-year-old birthday suit, stopping for a moment to proudly strut her round tummy and I ask her, "Are you going to show Daddy how you can go on the toilet?" She looks suddenly surprised and OH! she looks down and pees on the floor, thankfully the wood and not the carpet. I call Joel for help, we rush, laugh, hold the child in place as an old towel comes out to clean the floor and catch the drips. Eventually jammies are convinced to zip all the way up and they now are reading bedtime stories in the living room, so Oliver can hear too.
My reminder line for this season is "Life is not an emergency," from Ann Voskamp's writing that
worked so hard on me last year. We have plenty of emergencies, but life is not one of them. Life is a gift. Not the cliche "live, laugh, love" line, but a moment by moment giving of pure grace, given by our passionate Father who bought our freedom from burdens at the steepest, unimaginable, once-and-for-all price.
What a blessing, Sonya! Your home is a place of love and laughter. That remains constants despite the bumps and beeps. Breathe deep- these moments fly by.
ReplyDeleteYou are all in my prayers daily.
What a blessing, Sonya! Your home is a place of love and laughter. That remains constant no matter the beeps and bumps. Breathe deep- these moments rush by.
ReplyDeleteYou are in my prayers daily.
Bless his bones.
ReplyDeleteI'm glad you were able to shore up your reserves, and, yes, yellow door!
I love your writings. I love the way the yellow door cheered you. I have a red inside kitchen door that speaks to me. While I was going through chemo several years ago, I got a notion that I wanted our white kitchen door painted red. Hubby was not too sure of my vision. After a few days, I changed my mind but failed to say so. I came home one evening from class and found hubby painting the door red. That door speaks love to me. It is the little things in life that gets us through the big things.
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