Rhythms

This has been a difficult season in many ways. Our local church is experiencing very real disappointments and hard times. God is on the throne and we shall not be moved, but our hearts ache a bit more for eternity these days.

[Edit to add: I have to clarify for those of you not nearby that these disappointments and difficulties are not of the bickering variety, thankfully. Death, sickness, hostility from the business world, etc. are the challenges we have been up against. I keep in mind how wonderful it is to be part of a church family that pulls together in these times, not apart, and this gives me great comfort and consolation.]

In it all, I find myself thankful for the natural rhythms of life. They are all the more present in my season of mothering young ones, and I am grateful.

Rhythms like::

:: mealtimes. Most of the ones under my care are incapable of tending to their own nutrition needs, and so three times a day I benefit from the simple routines of spreading peanut butter, mincing garlic, slicing apples, stirring the pot of soup, inhaling the aroma of freshly-baked bread.

:: naptime and bedtime. These can be fudged a bit, but not too much or else we have unnecessary drama on our hands. I get to return home at the end of a morning or evening out, tuck small bodies into bed, pray with them that they would have "no scary dreams or scary thoughts, that no bugs would get on them or in their rooms" and that they would learn to love Jesus with all their hearts, minds, and souls-- and I find rest in this rhythm.

:: baseball practices and games. There are few things as therapeutic as sitting on a bleacher in the sun, listening to the crack of a bat connecting with a baseball, and seeing the gleam of victory in seven-year-old son's eyes as he rounds home plate. (Please don't hate, all you non-baseball fans. You just don't understand.)

:: gardening. The other day, Daniel had a very difficult morning. He returned home and while young ones slept and others watched a movie quietly, we worked together to transplant, weed, edge, and mulch. You won't find any gardening gloves around here; we're the kind that likes getting some dirt under our nails. It's calming, I tell you.

:: homeschooling. It doesn't matter how sad I might feel as I wake in the morning-- my thoughts much occupied with the tragedies of life-- my children need to be taught. It's good for me to take the next step, to explain a new math concept, to surround myself with little bodies and read aloud to eager minds, to correct penmanship, to laugh with my son over a failed science experiment (I never have been very good at those!), to open and close the books each day.

:: worshiping with my church family each Sunday. We declare to Him, to one another, to any and all who might hear that we trust Him, that we honor Him, that we recognize His rule and reign, that we love Him. "Our God is greater, our God is stronger; God, You are higher than any other." It is good to come to the house of the Lord.