From my Journal

Dear Lord,

Holy Week. So much suffering done by you, for me. . .
Yet I reflect on the absolute joy I have been filled with already these two days.  That contradiction boggles my mind.

I am at peace with my decision for next year.  I've been honest with the big whigs who run things.  And I thank you.  Thank you for being enough.  Thank you for making me enough.  Thank you for the gift of knowing home is where I belong.  My sphere of influence here is great and my kids will know how you always work in their lives and how you are all they need.

So much of my adult life has been spent playing it safe.  Not taking risks, not rocking the boat, doing things others expect me to do and doing them well, caring too much what others think. . .and not relying on you for every little thing.

The past six years have prepared me for this moment.  Leaning into you did not come naturally to me; I learned to.  Over the course of these years, you opened my eyes to the beauty that was right in front of me. Thank you.  I could have missed all this:

• The way she moves her head and sings aloud from the back seat as we run errands.
• A weekly lunch date with my oldest little.  Hand in mine as we cross the street.
• The way he has to eat before getting dressed in the morning.  And how he warms himself by the fireplace.
• Noticing his tastes have changed from pbj sandwiches to turkey this month.
• Park dates after preschool.
• Friends coming over to do homework or a full car load of girls to honor choir.
• Picnics of pretend food on the library floor.
• Barbies and Little Pets and make believe galore.

I never thought this was the life for me.  Good thing you knew it all along.  Thank you doesn't seem enough.

Amen