Wednesday, October 10, 2012

day 9

grace.

with a sigh. with an exhale. tiredness fills my bones and my body is heavy. it's my story and perhaps everyone's story. but i find myself throughout the day praying grace. in the long days where i barely manage to move from one task to the next, grace. on the empty days where i carry no meaningful conversation, grace. between the dishes and mailbox and changing dirty sheets, grace. praying, God, can your grace be even here? because some days are just so empty. these days of child rearing are ridiculous. it is a massive collision of one never ending day that mysteriously turns into years. they all collide into one enormous, screaming body ache, string of continuous yawns, smashed crackers, yelling in grocery stores, shameful turns (and returns) into McDonalds, tunnels and forts and make believe, a relentless roller coaster of highs and lows, and a never ending (no matter how much sleep i get) weight of exhaustion.  some days are so long and they become the loneliest. on these forever days, can your grace be found here?