Sometimes I’m Not Content

I’ve got my rocking chair pulled up close to the window. It’s the one gifted to me by a dear friend after I shared my frustration at being up all night, pacing the floor with a sick child. Through my tired, bleary eye’d pleas God met me. He put it on her heart to bring the chair that had rocked her dear children in years past.

That same week I’d made a conscious decision that surprised me. I’ve been doing a lot of that lately, surprising myself. Jesus has a way of changing ones priorities. I told my husband, “I just discovered, I’m a lifelong mom.”

It took me nearly eleven years but I know now that I won’t be “growing my kids up and getting my life back”. I used to plan for what I’d do when they were gone. Dream of the freedom I’d someday have again. But I no longer want to be free, subject to my own devices. I want to belong to Jesus. His ways are so much higher than my ways.

*Scripture for you to Pin!

So I sit and I rock, my face turned up to experience the sun rays between rain clouds. On the table beside me is a list titled, “Things Driving me Crazy” and another titled “Must Do” but neither list matters.

My littlest is still fighting some kind of crud and he is crying again. I’m exhausted. My forehead scrunched tight against a nagging headache. But I want to be in the moment. I want to rock babies and sing. I want to look strange to the world because I’ve chosen to get out of the river.

There’s been a break in the rain so my five year old is jumping on the trampoline, trying on his new age and the privileged of not having to sleep when his younger siblings do. He is content boinging and springing, arms out wide. That’s what I long for. That’s what I need. A contented heart.

Pray for me. I’ll pray for you! We need each other.