The past couple of weeks have not been ideal per-say. There's been a lot of stuff going on that has continued to simply drain me of any ounce of
It's the broken washer.
The too-quick goodbye.
And now I'm wide awake with tissues stuck up my nose knowing full and well that when my alarm goes off it what will seem like seconds, I will be far from ready to welcome it's joyful noise. Talk about another stressor. My poor girls...I promise your Moma will return soon.
Despite all the mess that's going on. My three girls are still bubbling along like nobodies business. They are the smile to my days even when I don't feel like smiling.
"God wants you right in the middle of your messbecause that's the perfect place for Him to
They will chatter you up before you have time to process one thought.
They will tickle that part of your heart that hasn't been stirred up in quite sometime.
They will run circles around you and wont miss a beat.
They will, and I can say this because they're mine,
The other day they were cleaning up their play-dough mess and I got all bent out of shape with how they were sweeping it up. Dirty broom on my table (as if it wasn't gross enough) was not the best choice. Afterwards, they softly informed me that they thought I was grouchy. Talk about a punch in the gut. But what got me was what they said next...
"but we still think you're a great Moma, Moma."
Cue the tears. I mean, really. My girls.
He will be our peace.