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When daddy gets home late and crashes on the couch at 5:00 am., grabs a random blanket, and spends the morning sleeping on the couch surrounded with school noise and two kittens crawling all over him.
There are plums to pit and freeze, an entire wheel barrow plus three more containers of them. I teach the youngest his school, then stand at that outdoor table in the sunshine for two hours, nearly immobile but for my fingers flying as fast as possible, and my lips moving with instructions to bring the two middle kids through math.
A friend pulls in and takes some plums. What a relief! She stays and helps me. What a joy! She's one of those people I love hanging with, and she doesn't mind that I'm in the trenches while she's all prettied up.
The five year old son hosts her daughter well, and they head inside to make themselves P&J sandwiches. I tell the other kids to do the same, because I can't cook lunch today.
I head inside to a husband who is awake, looks at me and says I look exhausted, then starts loading the dishwasher. He even cleans out the silverware drawer. We both know it's filthy, and he knows that cleaning it out rather than mentioning it, is what I need today. He's my hero for stepping in like that, and those small acts of kindness will last in great, big memories for years to come.
The kids are in the worst day of school for the entire year [hopefully]. We've added too much to our already long list. I find the ten year old upstairs with tears in his eyes, hovered over a gigantic science book. We sit, and we talk. This new co-op we joined suits the girls much better than him, and I tell him it's OK, he doesn't need Latin and technology based writing and gigantic, wordy science books. He does need science and writing, but he can stick to what we are already doing. He wipes his eyes and feels better; so does mama.
The twelve year old downstairs with the articulate brain is getting a kick out of detailed computer discoveries. But this ten year old boy has a different life and calling ahead of him. He will get a great education, and he will do just fine without Latin.
Daddy sits in his recliner and navigates with us. Five o'clock hits again, this time five o'clock near dinner time. Home sounds better than town, and fresh veggies better than eating out, so I ask if we could stay home, and not talk about school schedules because I'm so exhausted I can't think about it tonight. He agrees, and we stay.
The ten year old who cries over science enters the kitchen with me and asks if he can make an apple pie. The thought of more mess drives me crazy so I talk him into a plum crisp instead. It turns out beautifully, and I ponder this boy. I don't know how two siblings could be so different, but they are.
He tells me how much he loves hunter's ed and finance class. I love his serious, manly outlook on life, his love for survival, his many hugs in one day. But lately his stress level has been up, and he's been glaring much too often. So have I. Something needs to give.
Another friend comes by for plums. She's a kind soul and we chat awhile. One more friend comes by, and she's a joy-filled person with a great, big, wide heart with enough room for all of us. She's fast becoming one of my favorites because she's one of those down to earth women with no agenda but love. Someone called her a woman of valor the other day, and I agree.
We sit over a delicious meal, and we're all there, Daddy, Mama, and our four. We haven't yet discovered all the answers to making our days simpler, but we know we will, and for now, Jamaican stir fry, fresh kale salad, and plum crisp piled high with whipped cream is enough for the day.
Dinner is over, and the kids do their chores while I head for my favorite spot in the corner. It's strange how typing speedily can make the heart go quiet, calm, refreshed.
Each day has it's own stresses, for sure, but when we're in those �I can't breathe� kind of places, something needs to give or we will end up losing. When we don't let something give, we end up with nothing to give.
I'm thankful that God planned how many hours should be in a day, that He created my body to demand rest, that no two kids need to be the same, that there's a good way for both to be well educated without having to fit two different hearts into the same mold.
I'm thankful for a good stylist the next day who takes those crazy gray hairs beginning to merge on my head, and does something good with them, for the hours spent having someone else wash my hair and massage my head. My husband never complained about the bill; he's glad I got the rest and relaxation he told me I needed last night.
I'm thankful that God never planned us to do more than what we can do well. That we're not meant to thrive under pressure and that when we try to do so, we can know something is wrong with us, not with Him. He did make enough hours in a day, but we often fill it with more than we should.
He's a God of Peace. He calls us to live, walk, and abide in that peace. When we do so, we permeate the atmosphere with grace, and that is what our kids need, our husbands want, and the world around us craves.
Worry lines and stress filled tones do nothing for the soul, but peace draws those we love. We don't have to do it all, we can't do it all, because God never created us with the ability to do it all.
We're not robots; we're not simple matter that can be worn down without undesired repercussions. We have limits, which if exceeded, will drive us beyond goodness right into craziness.
God created us to need certain things because His kind of lifestyle brings Him more honor than our own rush. If we needed no rest, we would run about without taking time for more meaningful things. Our heart and soul needs are God's way of bringing us right in line with His heart.
Because the best things in life will never be things. And a restful heart, more than a rushing heart, make way for the beautiful things of Christ to permeate our days.
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