For breakfast, I make myself two pieces of wheat toast, one topped with strawberry jam and one with a slice of farmers cheese.
Give us this day our daily bread and jam
And forgive us our butter
Then I eat three dried figs.
Our Father which art in heaven
It is silent in my house, when our chocolate children are with their mother. I have lived so long in wildness, from interruption to interruption, that I forget how to do still. There is not enough work to fill the time. Now what?
Hallowed be thy name
Many are the opportunities these days. My time is given to things I do not ordinarily have the space or the chance for. An Italian dinner night out with my sister. Hosting friends from church. Substitute teaching for my dad. Talking weekly with my mentor. A double date with friends from out of town. Baking whoopie pies. Being pampered with natural products and DIYs with my friend Amy. Watercolors with my three-year-old. Brainstorming writing projects. I am such a blessed kid.
Thy kingdom come, thy will be done
On earth as it is in heaven
Last week, bio mom told me she would like us involved in the children’s lives after their return. I got teary on her. She said, I mean you’ve been a big part of their lives, so what kind of a mom would I be if I cut that off? She texted me during their first overnight, asking advice on taking them potty in the night, sending a sweet picture, reporting on what they had for breakfast. By some blessed miracle, we are walking together through this thing.
For thine is the glory
Forgive us our debts
I miss my son terribly. The first hole’s the hardest, and we have dug the twenty-first. He will be home for a visit within days. I plan cookies and outings and chores – I cannot wait.
The news from camp has been uniformly encouraging: honeymoon, honeymoon, BUMP. I admit it: we all cheered for the bump. Because now he is real, and can work on things. My precious son. I feel guilty for everything that is easier because he is gone. The silence is palpable, because for the first time in years I do not have to listen for the danger.
But I still do.
As we forgive our debtors
I am horribly uncomfortable with the silence. There is too much thought in it. I reach desperately for the next challenge, my days arcing and slumping, a fish with a low tolerance for oxygen.
It is perfectly possible to write about the sweetness of your marriage and the importance of loving one’s enemies, and then spend an entire day being nasty to your husband.
Lead us not into temptation
My new goal, set with my mentor, is to learn to sit in silence before the Lord without wincing away. To know him to be present, and good; and to know myself in relation to him. It is so tempting to pick a detour, and to rush on unhealed.
But deliver us from evil
This week I felt, for the first time, an edge of anticipation. We have been ferried up, up, up the excruciating climb, full of dread and horror. Now we creep over the edge and hang poised for the plunge, and I do not know where this roller coaster goes. I have no idea what is next.
For thine is the Kingdom and the power
I hang, and feel the hideous weight of the dropping commence, and I think Whooooeeee! for the first time.
Here we go, Lord. I am not holding on.
I have been talking about me. I would love to hear where God is taking you these days.