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Mama is worn.

It’s been 16 hours since I hit the ground running this morning….groggy from going to bed too late the night before.

All three kids are tucked away in bed now.

I can breathe. πŸ™‚

A calm waft of piano is streaming from an old Apple.

The thrum of the heater is intermittently running.

And 10 day old grocery store flowers are perched in a clear vase on the right of my desk.

Those flowers look like I feel, really.

Still alive…
still giving off color…
still standing up straight….

but looking like they may just be on the cusp of a wilt.

Tonight….that description fits.

Still hanging in there…
still thankful for a day well spent…
still vertical and doing duty…

but a bit drained and drooping – as is every Mama this time each eve.

It’s nearing tomorrow….and the husband is still hard at work.

Long hours this week.

Which means, of course…long hours for Mama, too.

The dryer is spinning in the laundry closet.

The dishwasher is loaded full and ready for the go ahead.

And there are coats stacked high by the back door – evidence of the rare cold that rang through these parts last week.

The porch lights are on – anxious to light the way for the man of the house to return home from labor.

A basketful of clothes are waiting to be folded, over by my bedroom window.

A cheap apple cinnamon crisp candle is dimly flickering to my left.

And wooden play food is littering my writing area….cake with frosting and sprinkles from the girl’s pretend play earlier today.

My mind is full and distracted – thinking of loathsome upcoming events, loved-one turmoil, and all kinds of uncertainties.

There are exactly 17 Post-It notes stuck to the wall I’m facing….blog post ideas, scripture verses, school reminders, and nonsense.

My lids are feeling more and more languid-like as I list out this scene here – so sleep should come soon and quickly.

Tomorrow holds mostly learning and laundry.

And hopefully a sermon listen, a workout of some kind, and reading.

Hopefully.

Ah. I have laid the littles down three or four times now.

But I sense a stillness from their room that tells me slumber has set in at last.

It’s setting in here too.

Yes, I may be worn. But wow – I’m wrung out for such a worthy reason.

The home, the hearth, the hearts I tend – are worth the wear. 

Yes.

Let’s head into hump day – looking for light. 

Looking for a stream of God to come searing through.

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