{Time to Engage}

I’ve been walking around our cozy apartment, lights dimmed, just breathing in the quiet. Long, deep soul-refreshing breaths. Does anyone else need this at the end of the day? I’ve heard so much on how I *should* go to bed when my spouse goes to bed, but how I need this quiet calm. This time to slow down my heart rate. To attempt to process even a moment of this day. To tidy up a bit. To wash my face absent of questions and demands. Maybe even to watch some TV and color in an enchanted forest with my gel pens.

Granted, our schedule is weird. My husband goes to bed at 7PM. Earlier if he can get away with it. So I send my kids off to bed a little earlier than I would otherwise (they make up for it by being early risers). But I just canNOT bring myself to go to bed at that ridiculous hour most nights. Especially not when the quiet calls to me.

And so it is here, with the humdrum of the dishwasher running in the background—and the interruptions of a loud little man that can’t quite fall asleep himself yet, either—that I can hear my oldest’s words, retold by my husband, echo in my ears once again: “Mommy doesn’t play with us that much. She just reads us a lot of books.” And all I hear, piercing my heart, is “You failed.”

The worst part? He’s not wrong. They do ask me to play with them and I often seem to say, “Later, I’m working on [fill-in-the-blank].” I have legitimate responsibilities. There’s a lot going on in this season of life. However, there has been a lot going on in former seasons of life and I expect there will be a lot going on in future seasons of life. Dishes are not fleeting. They will be there.  a l w a y s .  Laundry? Not going anywhere. Facebook is a trip down the rabbit’s hole, for sure. My children, however. Well, my time with them is finite. So short. The blink of an eye. If I am truly lucky, I have 12 more years with my oldest at home and 16 more years with my youngest. It sounds like a nice chunk now, but I know how quickly these past years have gone by and it only seems to fly by faster every year. This time with them is like sand in an hourglass. Grains are slipping by every second. No do-overs. They will never be this young again.

The last thing I need is more guilt heaped on my shoulders. And guilt will not benefit myself or them. But grace and perseverance, perspective and wisdom will. I must learn to get outside of my own head. To set the never-ending to-do list running through my mind aside. To sit and play with my kids while they still want me to. Better yet, to run and play with them. I must find a way to turn off my anxious mind and really engage with them. To be less inhibited with them. To be silly and free and well, fun. And so many can attest that “fun” has never been one of my strong qualities. Thankfully, these little men bring out the best in me. They are a refiner’s fire like none I’ve ever known.

So I sit here tonight and fight the urge to plan and analyze and think my way to being a better mom and I simply lay it at Jesus’ feet, asking for grace and encouragement to be the mom they need me to be. The mom He wants me to be. Because the truth is, I can’t do this. But He can. Because with God all things are possible. I trust Him to work out the details in my life. To cover us all in His grace. To make all things new. And to weave the fabric of our family into something beautiful.