I rarely get a quiet moment. Someone always needs something. And then someone else needs something else. And then the third child needs something else. And then the first child needs what I just gave the third child, which makes the second child upset. Vicious cycle.
But for a few minutes while the kids were armed with water squirters and old sippy cups, I sat in a chair and thought, "Wow. I don't think I've prayed, I mean like REALLY prayed, in....huh. I have no idea how long it's been. So it must have been a long time ago." My brain shuts down by about six p.m. each night. Those last few hours of the day feel like a hurricane of jelly beans and Lego blocks and toothpicks being pelted at my face. (You mamas know what I'm talking about!) It is NOT pleasant. There's dinner, Daddy walks in the door (cue crazy x1000), the house is a disaster, and then there's pjs, brushing teeth, potty breaks, stories, back rubs, prayers, songs, threats, tears, yelling, and eventually, EVENTUALLY, blissful silence. And at that point, I have about 1% battery power left. On a good night.
So my conversation with God, as I sat in a camping chair sporting my workout clothes and a Flintstones'-style ponytail, went like this:
It's been awhile.
I'm tired. Obviously you know that. You are God, after all.
Look at beautiful my babies are. Thank you for them. My girls. My son. They are so happy.
Wow, this chair isn't all that comfortable, but it feels good to just sit.
God: You know, you can tap in to my power at any time. It is the best resource you've got.
I know. Why do I forget so easily?
Sheesh. I really need to do this more often, and not in a "bless so-and-so" kind of way that I do when I see a prayer request from a friend on Facebook.
I feel so far from you, God. It's lonely.
I'm always here. I help you even when you don't ask for it.
I have sensed that at times. Especially during some hard adoption moments over this past year.
I really want to adopt again. But I just don't know. One day I think it's the best idea ever and I'm ready, and the next day I think it's a terrible idea. Then the what ifs start. Want to hear the baby names I have picked out for my next seven kids, most of whom will be girls because I have more girl names picked out?
I'm a God of peace. Not confusion.
I know. I create my own problems. I hate how self-reliant I am sometimes.
I really should pray for my husband more. Isn't that what holy women do? Ok. Here goes. God bless my husband. Help him to have a good day. Help me be receptive to you as I go about my day, taking your cues and helping my husband feel encouraged in the ways that he needs.
I'm tired. And all I'm thinking about right now is whipping up some latte popsicles. Cheaper than Starbucks.
And my writing. I'm mostly proud of it. But I really need to write more positive things. All the news stories about racism in our country makes me crazy. I just cannot be silent, yet when I share stories, am I just feeding the frenzy and not really making a difference at all?
You need to focus first and foremost on raising your children in Me.
But there are so many things working against my kids, against Black people. BIG things. Systematic things. Racist people. I don't feel like I'm ever doing enough. Please, please protect my children.
I already have. I already am. They are with you. You are the mother they need. There is a purpose for them and their lives.
I'm scared for them. But I'm so thankful to be their mommy. You know just the other day...
INSERT CHILDREN SQUIRTING EACH OTHER IN A WAR-LIKE MANNER WITH TOO POWERFUL SQUIRT TOYS CAUSING SCREAMING FRENZY REQUIRING PARENTAL INTERVENTION.
I should do this again soon, God. Thanks. I gotta run and tend to those sweet babies I was just praying about.