Beautiful Responsibility

She doesn't scream, but I still hear her

Hand sucking in crib

Voice quietly and aimlessly chattering

When picked up, arms envelope my neck

And sudden head bobbing begins

So sudden, head clatters with my lips

I taste blood in my mouth

My body feels tired

Wondering why I have forsaken

Our favourite time of rest

Clammy fingers reach up towards my neck and fall in submission

As large gulps begin

The wild animal is tamed

And so I lie

For ten

Or twenty

Or thirty

Too often more than 60

Minutes with

No words

Just her heavy breathing

Cutting through the silence of night

Minutes with

The quiet knowledge

That to her

This twilight exploration

Is like manna from heaven

Full fat organic goodness

Her only way to survive

Without me,

she is weak

A responsibility that shatters my selfishness

Breaks my wants

Shows me so much of unfailing love of Father God

Physically, you tire me

Spiritually, you revive me

The burp rudely juxtaposes the silence

Your mouth accidentally drips its excess

Head flops over my shoulder

Body waves white flag

As slowly I lay you back down

My beautifully exhausting responsibility

{written in 30 mins during a 5am feeding session. feeding zella hasnt always been an easy journey...thankful that I have come to the place where I can celebrate it}

Losing

My babes are sleeping, but I cannot

I feel as if I live in this place of constant frustration

Of constant wrestling between two polar opposites

Of constant emotional battle where I never win

I know the unconditional love of Father God, his forgiveness and blessings

Yet my Bible remains so often unread, its life-giving words shut off to my heart

I stare at my beautiful baby girl, eyes bright with wonder and joy, loving my time with her

But haunted repeatedly by news stories, fears and worries, that any moment the enemy could snatch her away from me

Enjoying the freedom of staying at home with my princess, wondering about serving in the community, training so I my photos would pay

Yet wondering if it is mere whimsy, an idyllic life far from my reach, and I need to grasp the financial stability of returning to the formal grind of my previous work

Having the low-key, no worries option of renting, and knowing that my home doesn’t define me

But plagued by seeing more and more friends on property ladder, and wondering if we will ever climb its rungs

My heart cries out to write and write, and dreams of a future, a career, inspiring with pen, bringing life with words

Yet it seems just that, a dream so far away, a joy that can’t rise to the surface on long busy days.

Buts and Yets stutter my growth

As an adult

As a wife

As a mother

They stop me from enjoying where I am

And the future looms its dark cloud over me

I remain restless

I feel exhausted

I wonder if it will change at all

Or am I resigned to a life that just feels this torn

In the losing middle of tug-of-war

Why can’t I be satisfied and just enjoy where I am, who I am?

When will I fully understand,

It is what it is?

When will I rest?

When will I win?