I'm failing in my home.
My report card would read "F."
Nothing in this household is getting done according to "the plan".
Forget the schedule.
And Certainly nothing is done the way I would like, or the way that is ideal. I should be running a tight ship!
...But this ship is adrift a swift current I cannot control and I don't have the energy to steer the boat.
Things are not neat, or clean, or organized. And if they are for a brief moment, they sure don't stay that way.
This is survival mode.
Time freezes. And I wait it out.
The days move slowly and I struggle with extreme exhaustion.
Tired. So tired.
Five weeks until this baby is born. I'm hanging in there.
Waiting. And praying.
I cry out to God for grace.
And I see God's sweet mercies in small snippets of time.
In my children.
In my blessings.
In small measures of grace.
These are precious moments of my week that would slip like sand through my fingers.
If moments like these aren't captured, they might be missed forever....
A first dentist appointment.
Micah drawing monster trucks and helicopters for Mack.
Mikayla telling Mathias the story of Moses, then rocking him inside a basket like the Nile river would.
Watching a kid eat broccoli dipped in whipped cream.
Spontaneous laughter at lunch for no good reason.
Catching the baby getting his own drink.
Playing with big brother.
Learning how to vacuum, then getting a ride.
Playing "Where's Daddy?"
Dinner with a favorite family that we love and admire and haven't seen for several years. (When we first became friends we only had 2 children each! )
An outpouring of loving cards, notes, gifts and artwork sent from friends, family and even strangers that were given to my sick neighbor who is suffering with cancer.
And God shows me His sweet mercies.
In small but incredible acts of goodness.
Maybe God is steering the boat in this season of waiting.
Maybe I'm not failing after all.
Maybe this isn't "surviving."
Perhaps, because of grace, this is thriving.