So we are here again. The end of another week. It’s a good job I’ve started writing this after seeing my spiritual director. It would have been a more gloomy affair had I written at lunchtime. Some sitting in quiet, some noticing of the view around me has enabled me to get a more peaceful perspective on the week.
We were back into full on routine. Nursery for two and a half days, toddler groups and music class for the youngest and some inventive ways to try and spend long afternoons indoors. The boys have been generally hilarious this week. Their imaginative play is beautiful and weird and I love hanging out with them. Getting them to do anything is slightly more problematic as I have no patience right now. I’m not so enamoured with myself this week. I’ve been far too close to the edge of anger and frustration which has spilled out in ways that I am not proud of.
I was sure I would have time and energy to finish the above post sooner than this but there we go. The last sentence is still true in this new week. I have a long way to go to discover the art of gentle calm parenting.
On Friday evening my spiritual director asked me how I was in the midst of the slightly odd world that is ours at the moment.
I am ok. In some ways better than for a while and in some ways very close to the edge of stress and anger. I can see myself tidying and cleaning more than usual and being so much less tolerant of the boys mess and squabbles over toys. I want to control something in this land I feel so out of control in. I can’t make my beautiful man better and I don’t know how long this will last. Anger rises too quickly. Frustration at the situation we are in spills out on the small ones. I am sad this has too often been the case this week.
I return again to the reality of grace, the needing forgiveness hourly and to knowing that I too am a child with a very patient and calm parent. I am held. I am loved. Words that I long to believe and live within. I am loved. I am a child in Good Hands. I am loved. I too often jump to a picture of a disapproving parent when it comes to thinking about God as one. I long to replace that sour image with the actual one of delight, compassion, patience and kindness that the Bible tells me my divine parent is full of.
In Tuesday group today we read of a God whose laws and ways bring refreshment to our souls. Oh to really believe that with all the core of my being. To not just know the theory, but to love and embrace the utter wonder that God’s ways bring refreshment to my soul. We talked about enjoying God, hanging out in the wonderful world he made together.
As I sit here in the car with the sun shinning strong and son2 asleep behind me I can feel the stirring of hope and the strength found in being a beloved child. The strength to love, to keep on walking and not be destroyed by the circumstances around us.
I gaze at the blue skies and green hills around me.
There is hope.
I am loved.
We are held.
I am grateful for the people who have made our week and weekend easier. For reading many books to our boys, coming and sharing in garden centre joy, for providing safe houses to sit in on rainy afternoons and for holding us in their thoughts and prayers. Husbandface has been signed off work for the next 4 weeks and we have no way of knowing how long this tunnel is.
We walk slowly on. Shuffling through the dark. Aware of a hand holding onto us. Aware of others coming and going to encourage and shine some light.
We walk on. There is grace enough for this day. There is a refresher of souls with us.
(Remind me of that next time you see me around eh? Writing this down reminds me but I so easily forget)