“But let patience have her perfect work, that ye may be perfect and entire, wanting nothing.”
~James 1:4~

One of my favorite journals is from a time when I went completely offline. No Facebook. No blogging. Just me and my reading and clearer mind. Besides the writing out of quotes is the same thing over and over. Talking about how discouraged I am. Amazement at how much of a dream come true this whole homeschooling thing is. How I’m so fulfilled as a wife and a mother. How I’m tired of dealing with all of this pain.

I see hints of the exhaustion taking over even then. I’d actually forgotten about it, how sometime by 1PM I’d be folding over, when I still was doing all of the dishes and cooking meals for lunch and breakfast. When a spousal fight was not something you quickly bounced back from, but rather it knocked you out for days. And it was the joy of my life, having them all here in this time. And your husband was around instead of long away.

And you wait for the relief, but of what? When they can walk and do more things for themselves. When the sibling bickering is not your daily battle for years. I wondered again today, what is it exactly that I’m waiting for? When everyone grows up and moves out of the house? When there is supposedly less work, less food, less cleaning. For my weakened body to be stronger? And I remember this. I remember the longing for Christ.

How else would I have ever known it? I found myself apologizing to the kids over supper. Guys I’m sorry I’ve been so tired over the past couple of years. Like the times I remember when I thought I was, when I wanted to be the fun mom, when my life lit up with joy at the sheer glory of another day with you. I wanted my life to be a powerful gift to them, I could feel the vast significance. But maybe blessedly for my eyes only.

For there has never been a day, not in a long time, where I am anything but daily baffled by my deep, profound limitations. Yes my life, my love was a gift, but theirs to me was infinitely more. I was thinking about all this yesterday while riding around from here to there. I did try to tell them. They don’t say much and I know not what’s comprehended. And perhaps this too is a gift. One I don’t always understand, yet is mine nonetheless.