i am
pressing down on the floor, i am
pressing my back against the wall, i am
pressing my forehead against the trim, i am
praying and waiting
and i feel the weight of this home upon my little-girl heart
i am
breathing slowly in the twilight, i am
rocking between my feet, i am
closing my eyes to listen, i am
quiet and serious.
and i remember being the little girl not quite able to keep herself in bed
i am
peeking into a darkened room, i am
hoping it will soon be over, i am
dreading it will soon be over, i am
sick with sentiment
and i learn the sting of discipline, taste the sweetness of song
i hear
the heart-call, tiny voice, i feel
the floor creak, bare toes, i see
the bright spot, blond hair, i am
stern.
and in a few minutes, i will have laid another stone upon the Foundation
and then, we will sleep.
you parent-prayer and it bleeds and i want this kind of sweat, the kind that father-hears. thank you, friend, for making me LONG to be a godly mother. it was so hard to be so close to you this week, and yet so far, and yet it was sweet too. xo
ReplyDeleteSo good, so real. laying foundation so hard but when the storms come they/you will stand.
ReplyDeleteoh,
ReplyDeletejust oh.
those nights.
beautiful Bethany Ann.
and then you come over and watch a movie! :)
ReplyDeleteor i come over and do laundry.
or you come to the building for practice.
or you blog it up.
good job, beh.