crazy that is,
when you wonder how to catch your breath. and realize
in a shocking moment that you may not be taking in h20. and yet miraculously you’re still
alive.
panic, dread and fear threaten to consume. some internal, perfectionist voice screaming: this can’t be right?
how can parenting
be so hard?
early, before the dawn you rose up out of bed. in the dark, sipping
hot coffee, you read about being called. and you prayed to be wise. knowing.
a steward of the precious lives, entrusted.
my head says, poor me. life is so difficult. wisdom scarce. challenges too many,
i want to flee.
bail. feeling hopeless, helpless but God promises
to be a SHIELD.
you read: “He lifts my head.”
i am shocked, perplexed by these words, from Henri JM Nouwen who said he was “impressed by the enormous abyss between my insights and my life.”
some days
are about longing for wisdom, dreaming and hopeful, still
in the midst of the crazy years.