Nearly two weeks the same post has sat at the top of this blog, and it seems silly but that thought fills me with shame. So much preventing the writing– so much trivial and important, so much big and small. And sometimes I feel like the words that usually come so readily are being blocked somehow.
I’m sure the block is all in my head.
Life goes on; time marches forward; all the cliches are true and suddenly from nothing to write about there is too much and it all piles up trying to spill forward like schoolkids on the first day of summer.
I potty trained my daughter in the last week. And taught my sons about fractions and long o and geotropism and the Phoenicians, all while jumping up every two minutes to deal with an accident or some other toilet-related crisis. Homeschooling is not for wimps. Which makes me wonder how I could have ever been called to do it.
Thanksgiving is only two weeks and one day away, and my children haven’t made one cute Pilgrim decoration or handprint turkey. They haven’t listed everything they’re thankful for or cut out a single Mayflower from construction paper. Instead they have endured my snarls and frustration at yet another puddle on the floor.
I’m sure their hearts overflow with gratitude. Whose wouldn’t?
Every time I sit to write I am reminded again of how broken I am. Broken always. Sometimes I get tired of the reminders and so I walk away from the writing. I am so very good at the avoiding. Some things can’t be avoided and so I cook dinner and do laundry and give baths and correct multiplication problems, feeling these things a duty rather than a joy.
This is why we need– I need– Thanksgiving and the Christmas that follows. So broken. And He came for the broken. And He brought peace and joy in the midst of the brokenness. And He gives the gift of gratitude– the reminder in November to give thanks– so that my heart can soften and be made ready to accept the gifts He gives every Christmas– the gift of joy and comfort even in the brokenness.
And so today I write. And I face the brokenness and the craziness and my own bad attitude and I accept the first and let Him soothe the second and confess the third, and He heals and calms and blesses.
And I give thanks.