Day 3-Peace Came

I wake this morning and I know, already, I am going to need this again. My eyes burn as I open them. My neck is stiff. Two children were up in the night. Why do I never feel rested enough? As I stumble up the stairs in the dark, see the orbs of light on the street pass and fade, take in the black fingers of spindly trees outside the window and grab one child from her bed...on to another. Wake up. Start the day. On to the next. Time to get up. Get up.

The blessings aren't registering yet. The gate is off the track again. Unaligned. Useless to bar my busy, into-everything toddler from the kitchen and the refrigerator and the glass and the sharp things. I say out loud, "I will NOT get through the day without this." I snatch a fleeting moment for myself, mixing hot cocoa, topping it with that peppermint whipped cream cloud I thanked God for yesterday, insignificant...but not. Then I realize a diaper needs to be changed, and I fight off petty frustration as the white cloud already begins to dissipate and melt. I know I cannot win this fight.

I look up Philippians 4. Ms Voskamp referenced it in her book.Philippians 4:4-7 says, "Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near. Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus."

Yesterday I recorded the majority of my list for that day by early afternoon. It was a good thing too, because the afternoon and evening provided MANY stressful opportunities for frustration to overwhelm or, more accurately, for the sinfulness of my heart to pour out. The Lord knew I would need the encouragement that sprang from seeing and acknowledging all of His many blessings to me in the morning. Not that they weren't there in the evening as well, it was just more of a struggle to see them. But they were there. I wrote them down to ensure they would not be lost in the chaos. I held on to them. And because I was mindful that the Lord IS near, HE enabled me to make it through.

How strange, really...it's not that I willed myself to stay focused but, as Philipians says, peace came AFTER thanksgiving. Peace came. It does transcend my understanding. Not that MY actions conjured up unusual calm, but that because the day was filled with continual offerings of thanks, my heart was filled with gratitude and contentment in the Lord rather than ingratitude and discontent. In this way, though I felt the flickering flames of frustration start to burn me again and again, the wellspring of Life guarded my heart. Thankfulness made me more aware of the Lord's goodness and all-sufficient grace to me, in ALL things and, especially, in all the little valleys that are the pot-holes in my daily journey.

I know these verses well. I've read them before, because I am anxious ALL the time as I navigate these pot-holes. I feel it already this morning. The urge to rush, to stress...and so I try to pray, I want today what I had yesterday. But I usually gloss over the part about praying with thanksgiving. The arrow hits the mark. I pray, "Lord, help me to see your gifts to me again today. Again. Today. I want to be thankful, not ungrateful, for whatever you have ordained for me."

My hand accidentally brushes across the sensor pad and scrolls back a page. All my thoughts and petitions and thanks gone. No. No! Really? I go back. See an automatically-created draft. It is all there. Saved. I sigh. Thank you. It dawns on me...God receives my thanks even if all this were erased from record. Yes, that's true. I look over and see my toddler gleefully smearing dirt-encrusted shoes all over the ottoman. But I am thankful for the small gift that, for my benefit, it's not.

51) the warm, tear-wet nuzzle in my neck
52) the little hand, pressed flat to my side, as I cradle him close
53) the sweet post-nursing snuggle where time felt suspended, nothing as pressing or urgent as that moment
54) the glistening dew drops suspended in the grass
55) the entwined tree branches, woven dark against the canvas of the clear blue morning sky
54) the color red, that I love, deep and translucent and beautiful in the glass votives on my buffet
56) the encouragement of a dear friend, whose familiarity has weathered the passing of years
57) the wispy curls framing my daughter's face
58) the little feet, kicking the air, peeking up over the bumper's edge as I approach
59) the whistle that sounds from the train chugging along the track
60) the button nose, expertly placed between two chipmunk cheeks, so like mine
61) the notes of a beautiful melody
62) the happy smile on my daughter's face as she proudly helps make my bed, loudly huffing as she carries pillows larger than her little body and mimicking my hand movements as we tuck sheets into place
63) the way he sticks his little tongue out when he smiles, and I laugh with joy every time
64) the smile on my face when, silly that it is, she calls our dachshund "Muh-mut"
65) the crackling of sunlight on my wall, like a delicate white-light spiderweb, shining through the imperfections in our old window glass
66) the sweet, vibrant taste of a juiced orange
67) the health of my children
68) the iridescent bubbles clinging to my dish sink like the foam on distant shores
69) the flecks of red in the stubble on my husband's face
70) the way his arm wraps around me and holds me tight to his side
71) the strong hand that envelopes mine
72) the smell of my baby's head, there is nothing comparable
73) the big, mischievous grin on my son's face when he wants attention and knows he's going to get it
74) the news of potential financial savings on food staples
75) the hands of my daughter, clasped under her chin in prayer