Remembering it’s Lent and I love writing. 

  
I have a desire to write something for each day of Lent. I know. I’m behind in my thoughts. But better late than never. I want to do this as a discipline. As a challenge. As a start of trying to write better rather than just bemoaning the lack of time to write. To notice details. To call my soul to pay attention to reality. To simply observe life.

I can’t promise it’ll be an interesting read, I may just write about a coffee cup and the wrinkles around it that the milk has left. I can’t promise poetry or insightful reflections. But I want to turn up and write.

So here goes.

Last night my youngest boy decided that he couldn’t sleep unless he was holding my face. I don’t know what is going on in his tiny brain. He’s certainly developing at a crazy rate at the moment. He understands more and is babbling to change the world. And he can say Batman. Or something that sounds vaguely like Batman. He’s just copying his best friend who can also say Batman. Don’t ask me why we think it’s important that our 16/17 month olds can say Batman. It’s cool ok? 

Anyway. He’s not sleeping well. He also has a cold which doesn’t help anything. And so he slept with his hand on my face. It’s a very smooth soft hand. A hand that was once inside me and a hand that will one day grow into a mans hand. For now it’s very small and expressing a deep need. 

My mind flitted between amusement, annoyance and a strange sense of privilege that this tiny human needs to hold me to settle into deep sleep. For now I am his safest place in the world. That thought makes me want to cry. I get to be a safe place for him. I pray I will always be a safe place for him. I pray I will be a safe place for other people (maybe not in the same way, it would be weird if friends had to sleep with their hands on my face). I pray that we will all learn how to be safe places for each other.

I long and need to put my hands on the face of my safe place. Psalm 27 talks about seeking God’s face, gazing on his beauty, waiting for him, his presence being our safe place. I feel like I need my safe place more than ever in these days of exhaustion, sleep deprivation and friends and family going through uber hard times. I am as restless as my little boy was last night and I long to lean into my safe place so I can be still once more and drift into deep sleep and peace. 

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2 Responses to Remembering it’s Lent and I love writing. 

  1. Ruth H says:

    This is lovely! I’m looking forward to more Lenten writings!

  2. Gayl Wright says:

    I love this, Kath. I also feel the need of my safe place, the place where I can pour out my heart before God and be comforted and at peace. I’m working on finding more time to do just that. 🙂 Oh, and I do remember those times when my babies were small and depended on me so much. Cherish those times. 🙂 They will still need you when they grow up, though in a different way, but maybe not so different. They still need us to be a safe place for them. Blessings to you!

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