I am often somewhere in between "this is too hard" and "I am so blessed" these days. Leaving 10+ hours away from family with a little one who's been sick too long and a husband out of town this weekend makes me realize where my self ends and God begins. Because when a child is crying inconsolably for an hour or fussing the entire day, the only thing I can do at that last moment is to breathe deeply and say, "this is where I end, God." And fortunately, I believe He takes things into His own hands. For a moment, my child sleeps. The day speeds up. Or another blessing inserts itself as a distraction. When that happens, I take account of the battlefield of both my home (strewn with sippy cups, kleenex, and medicine) and and my heart (strewn with negative thinking and exhausted love).
And I can only come away with this:
I am so blessed.
Not with just material things that most of the world doesn't have. But also a God who loves us enough to take over when things end. Our patience. Our strength. And our best efforts for a good day.
This was all written while waiting out a night terror. Spirit of peace, please come.