The sun dawns and sore throats and coughs have taken hold during the night. Praying, keeping watch, reciting the Mom's Psalm for raising children :0) to my spirit:
Psalm 84:3 Even the sparrow finds a home, and the swallow builds her nest and raises her young at a place near your altar, O LORD of Heaven's Armies, my King and my God!
So we and I wrestle out a soul and spirit's focus. Will I raise the level of anxiety here in this place? Will I be an agent to minister His peace and presence as I fix my eyes upon the Father? I cry the tears of fear, I leave my little ones in His hand again and again. And we take care of her. Bringing tea, smiles, medicine, comfort. And He is still here, even when Mom doesn't do the best at coping with stress.
A new day, and Spring is here. The sun is warm, and Sophie sets up a tea party with sunglasses. Bannon chases birds, Maureen comes for a quick but heart filling visit.
We walk the pond, and talk life, and what He's teaching us. And I remember that His mercies never end. They are new every morning. Not because He has changed this morning, but because He has more for each new day for me. Times and some days, I experience the burst and overflow when the cup is dry and I ask, but not when I expect.
Yes, He is good.
And it often bursts in the out of way places.
When I'm holding the sick one.
When I'm folding the laundry.
When I'm afraid and I look to Him.
When I keep my voice from sending the wrong message of condemnation as much as my flesh pulls in the opposite direction. And somehow words of teaching grace encourage the bickering child.
When I do the next thing and even though the glass broke, the kids cried at the same time,
I know my weakness
but my God is greater still.
And Spring is growing in my heart.