I hear myself say it. “Oh, how I wish he’d let go of the control he doesn’t have.” And my heart is pricked. Because I know, that’s a word for me too.
An anxious mama mothering an anxious little boy. I think, what could be a bigger train wreck? But I know God is trustworthy. And he’s given us each other. A mama who can empathize and a little boy who acts as mama’s little mirror.
He will be faithful my sweet boy to grow us both. And to be with us through the tears we both shed. And the years it takes for us to feel safe, secure, at peace.
May I be a safe place for you here on earth. But more than that, may I point you to Jesus, Our refuge. Our security. The place where peace is found.
The crabgrass creeps in, weeds reach high toward sun rays, across the full length of what’s meant to be a flower bed. They seek to overshadow every bloom and cover every inch. But beauty reaches higher. Abiding, abiding.
And I think of my own heart weeds. The ones that try to prowl upon my soul, telling stories of unbelief, loneliness, and a God who forgets his promises. But I believe beauty reaches higher, by the grace of God alone. Pointing me to the Son. Abiding evermore.
A single tear drips on the bed as I stare at the white wall we painted when I felt hopeful.
Depression is a funny thing; you don’t always see it coming. But it comes crashing like those waves at the Outer Banks that almost drowned me. We laugh about it now, how silly I looked running from the shore. But it scared me.
I’ve always been intimidated by poetry. Reading it sometimes makes me feel dumb and writing it? Goodness, I’m not sure I have any skill to offer up to a reader. But as I spent many weeks filled with many hours unable to walk postpartum, I started reading poetry. And this is why I now have a Google doc titled “Poems that are Probably Terrible”. I’m doing something brave here. I’m starting to share them—even the ones that feel a bit raw and untidy. I hope that they will resonate with a few of you.
I’ll be saving them all to a section here on the blog called “Poetry”. I’ve really enjoyed dipping my toe into this type of creative writing. I hope you enjoy reading them.
I sit, cradled arms heavy with the weight of something so beautiful breathtaking unbearably precious.
My wrists ache under your body and the joy your tiny frame has brought me.…