For weary mothers outnumbered by children.
To be played by squeaky, nails-on-the-chalkboard beginning violinists
A Psalm of Shana
I could not take it one more second.
Will they never get to sleep?
With no shoes and no bra – in my jammies – I left
Straight out the door, without thought.
Walked down the road in the dark;
In the dark of night.
I cried out to the Lord, “I don’t even know what to say.
I can’t do it anymore. They are making me crazy.
I am quite possibly already crazy!”
I returned home and sat in a lawn chair
It was dark.
It was quiet and still.
I was cold.
Not ready, yet, to go back in,
I got in the van, reclined the seat and covered up with a size 6/7 raincoat I found strewn on the van floor.
It was surprisingly warm and comforting.
Finally someone came looking for me.
It was late.
I went inside, brushed my teeth and headed for bed.
The baby cried.
I ignored her.
I want to sleep.
When I lay down in my bed, one is there.
When I try the couch, one is there.
Oh when will they stay in their own beds?
How long, oh Lord, until they sleep through the night?
Sleep finally comes.
I wake and see an adorable, dirty, peaceful, sleeping face ringed with curls and remember the depth of my love.
Thankful that Your faithfulness is new with each morning.Today is full to bursting. So much to juggle!
Lord, have mercy!
But then, really! harmonicas at 6:38?
Do they not understand some are still asleep and need to stay that way?
Let me remember the Mother's Day of just days ago,
Full of love and (relative) peace and blessings.
Return to me those children, oh Lord.
Return to me those children.