Lord, That I May See

Body aching, Muscles breaking, Every movement  A creak o r a lurch. Sitting is hard  And walking is harder. Sleep is scanty, Weight is mighty, Time is lessening And patience failing. How many days  Till meeting, my love? Ever the hours Move slowly and thickly. Every tightening  Premonition of birth Blood is still flowing To little feet still kicking. Treasure these moments Of inexorable length! Weary and expectant, Waiting and hoping -- How many days Till meeting, my love?

 October-- Seven months/31 wks This picture is so peaceful... and seems to me so far from reality. Well, far from the surface reality that infuses my everyday.  I grant that there is a deeper reality beneath the everyday trivialities that is full of the beauty and and the peace of dwelling in the light and life of Christ.  I just wish I could feel this peace and see this light.  I feel trapped on the surface in too much to do and too much to be. Most days I feel fragile, like propped up cards ready to topple in a breath.  I limp through the days of homeschooling, and laundry and extra-curricular activities and errands and doctor's appointments and to-do lists and I feel like I am constantly breaking up sibling fights, getting up again after I sit down, getting all of us out the door for things every single day, and trying to find time to eat and shower and listen to my poor body begging for rest.  Where is the peace in all this rushing? It's hard, bea...