{faith} he arms me with strength
The lights burn my tired eyes. The dishwasher hums. Kitchen chairs sit askew. Bicycle helmet and badminton rackets lay on the couch next to the book I was reading this afternoon. The fridge is littered with schedules and lists and reminders -- all my attempts to organize this life. A glass bowl full of ripe pears on the counter along with three huge donated butternut squashes.
The kids asleep. The husband away. And me.
Me feeling like somehow life has gotten away, taken its joy and its wonder and sneaked away like a bandit.
Me feeling faithless, dried up and empty from so little time spent thinking and so much time spent doing.
Me feeling an ache for long meaningful conversation, about more than Kaisley's bedtime adventures and robotic machines that sort money.
Me feeling like nothing matters.
It's a tough gig, this motherhood business. It wears on us. We know, we know...it's important stuff. We know. But when martyr-mom gives and gives until she feels like this empty, joyless, lack-luster shell of a person...something has gone wrong.
Please join me at 5 Minutes for Faith where I share more and pray for strength.
The kids asleep. The husband away. And me.
Me feeling like somehow life has gotten away, taken its joy and its wonder and sneaked away like a bandit.
Me feeling faithless, dried up and empty from so little time spent thinking and so much time spent doing.
Me feeling an ache for long meaningful conversation, about more than Kaisley's bedtime adventures and robotic machines that sort money.
Me feeling like nothing matters.
It's a tough gig, this motherhood business. It wears on us. We know, we know...it's important stuff. We know. But when martyr-mom gives and gives until she feels like this empty, joyless, lack-luster shell of a person...something has gone wrong.
Please join me at 5 Minutes for Faith where I share more and pray for strength.