Tender Mercies

Whirlwind.  An absolute whirlwind of appointments, obligations, emotions, and just stuff.  None bad.  Just a lot.  A whole lot of stinkin' busyness for my usually very laid back, low-key crew.  This led to tears before school because momma was so tired she slept through the alarm and forced my big boy to squeeze a 30 minute regimen into 9 measly minutes.  There were also those nights when I almost couldn't be bothered with baths...much less extra hugs and snuggles.  I mean, for the love, stay in your bed.

My face broke out.  I ate way to many cream pumpkins out of the fall candy corn assortment.  And I became hard towards my children.  Literally, just two weeks of extra "stuff" going on in my life, and I just about couldn't even be bothered with my children.  The ones I stay home with.  The ones I left my paid job for.  The ones I've birthed and pretty much given up all hope of bladder control for.  

It was time for a slow down.  Actually, more like a hard brake.  

I prayed.  I cried a big ugly, snotty cry, and I begged God to soften my heart towards my family, particularly my kids.  I pleaded for wisdom and guidance to bring me out of my self-centered funk.  And, I picked up my camera.

I once read that the best way to ease frustration and hardness towards your kids is to bring them closer to you, which is kinda what I do, except I use a lens.  When I photograph my kids, I fall in love with them all over again.  I can see it all...freckles, gold flecks in their eyes, uncertainty, tenacity, need, dirt.  I don't clean their faces, coordinate their outfits, or give them orders to smile or look at me.  I just snap while they're living, and it rejuvenates my soul.  

So, I'm going to let the photos I've taken over the last week speak.  They're loud and quiet all at the same time.  Intimate.  Tender.  Sure, I'll clue you in to what was going on every now and then, but for the most part, I think you can see the testimony of a gracious God giving sweet, sweet gifts to a hard, thirsty soul.

coffee. backyard sittin' & a fire.

This man is wrapped.  And he's pretty much got me wrapped, too.

My firstborn turned 6.  He's a quiet, sweet soul who isn't big on a whole lotta birthday hoopla.  So, we opted for a 15 minute cookie snack time with his class and we ate at Cock of the Walk.  The boy loves some fried food.  The next day, he got to tell me exactly what kind of cake he wanted me to make him, and he loved every minute of watching momma make his cake from scratch.  No surprises.  No groups of family watching him open gifts.  No planning or clean up.  Just us, pajamas, and lots of cocoa, sugar, and butter.  It was the cool, calming salve we needed for our burned out little family.

I love this kid.

This is the one my heart cried the most over.  He's been a challenge from the get-go.  It's easy to drown in regret.  I've felt overcome since the first day I met him.  How could someone I love so much drive me to near lunacy?  I watched him in his mismatched clothes...clothes I made him that he brought to me to put on him for the day.  He climbed that climbing wall on the swing set, with the afternoon sun lazily hanging out behind him.  He glowed.  And in that moment, I chose to learn instead of regret how much of his short life I've wished away.  I admired his tiny fingers and toes as they curled around the grips. He's fierce, and I am going to have to learn how to hold my hands out to guide and lead him instead of throw them up in defeat and frustration.   

Wild, I tell ya'.

My girl sat at the sewing machine for nearly an hour.  I loved watching this little face as she created.

This one also sewed, but most of his evening was spent tending and sitting by the fire.  On a school night.  Homework waited, supper was simple, and his heart was full.  So was mine.

Later on, I found this.  Trek was taking a while to settle down and sleep, so I put Cade in my bed for a bit.  When I went to move him, I found him enveloped in one of my sweaters.  It wasn't cold, but he just needed this piece of momma.  This brought me to my knees and put mascara stains on my freshly dry cleaned quilt.  What a picture of fragility, comfort, peace, and safety.  Even though I'd felt my mood lightening, my shoulders loosening, and my mind clearing over the last few days after my pleas to God, this was the visual I needed to make my heart mush.  This wrecked me in the best possible way. God gave me this memory of grace and redemption.  He reminded me of why I'm some crazy, college educated momma of three in her twenties who stays home with no paycheck and gets emptied daily...sometimes multiple times.   

This is my calling.  My family.  For His purpose.