He needed to leave early this morning to do charts, so he kissed me goodbye through a small opening in the shower door.  I turned off the water and instantly heard it, the crying... My baby was awake, crying loudly, and I was simply not mentally ready to begin the day. I dressed, pulled my hair back, placed baby now smiling on my hip, and made my way to the kitchen.  Boys were playing wildly, no morning chores had been done, pjs still on, teeth unbrushed, breakfast half eaten, and school to begin in 15 minutes.  But, still there is a baby to be fed, and books to be sorted and work from yesterday not yet corrected, and my head spins.  Some days are like this.  Thankfully, everyday is not like this.  And, I feel the tightening, the elephant that some days comes and takes residence on my chest alloting me only small bits of air to breath and never a good deep breath.

I press on.  Get boys on task, feed baby, check work, do circle time, pray, and start laundry.  I touch something on laundry room counter and set an avalanche in motion, and I pause, frustrated. Why today?  Why?  Texts come in, but I ignore them, attempting to get caught up.  I go through the motions.  I teach, but today I am absent, not really present with them.  I am merely going through the motions, doing the day, trying just to catch my breath.  If I could just breathe....

Joshua and I work on his scripture recitiation due Friday ~ Mary's song.  And, though it speaks not directly to my day or my situation, it is the only time all day that my chest breathes easy if only for a moment.  And, I notice how His living word works wonders just in hearing my sweet son speak it to me.

But, on goes the day, the responsibilities.  The noise.  The laughter.  The loud talking.  The stress.  The crying.  The dog barking.  The tornado threatening.  The rain pouring.  And, at one point I step backwards awkwardly and hit my foot on the boy's castle.  My foot throbs only slightly, but still a single tear falls and the dam threatens to break, but thankfully holds strong.  Just do the next thing.  Just do the next thing.  Just do the next thing.  Change the dirty diaper, fill the milk cup, read over the paragraph, wipe the bottom, clean the spilled juice, check the math, rock the baby to sleep, read the history lesson, take the dog out, change the laundry over, boil some water, stir in the noodles, just do the next thing, then the next, and on and on...

Finally, a moment of semi-quiet, the boys engrossed in a movie, I sit down at the table.  I put my face in my hands, "Why am I so weak?  I never used to be so weak?"  I ask myself as the tears begin to fall.  I look down and see them, little drops on the wood table.  And, then I hear Him cutting through my selfishness, my weariness, my pride...

"Strong.  When did you get so strong!"

The tears fall harder, faster now.  "Me, strong?" I ask Him.  "Just look at me, Lord, I'm a mess.  I've been a mess all day."

Then, His whispers penetrate deep, "When you are weak, then you are strong....  Do not forget, child, from whence your strength comes.  You are not strong on your own strength, but only when you rest in me, then you are strong.  When have you been so strong, My little one?  When before have you shouldered so much?  So much responsibility?  Little lives I have placed in your care, and they have many needs, I know. Little souls I have trusted you to nurture. I ask you again, when, my child, have you been more strong?  But, not strong of your strength, strong from learning, year after year, child after child to rely more and more on my strength.  But, when you forget, when you try to control, try to do it all, try to be perfect, try in all your pride to be and do what I have not called you to, then you smother yourself in self, and you find it hard even to breathe.  But, when you rest in Me, in what I have called you to, not looking to the left or the right, when you trust in Me, when you rest here against My chest, not pushing and pulling and working and running and trying and straining, but simply resting in Me... Here you find your strength, here in this quiet place of trust. Breathe deep of Me, child, I am your strength, your very life's breath.  Just slow and breathe and trust and rest in This your strength."

I do love Him so...