Walk The Line

Busy spring pulls family to the car, to activities galore, to stress to finish well and strong.  Pulls us apart, and I lay on my bed yesterday afternoon for about half an hour weeping with all that we are doing.  What are we doing?  How in all the world is this glorifying to God?

I haven't looked at the whites of the Strong Soft's eyes in days.  The Kind and Compassionate is cracking under the pressure to do well...even at something he loves.  Boy blue is in trouble again for lack of school work, and the Silent Deep fairly groans at early mornings that will still earn him an incomplete as he goes off to boot camp.  And how long since the Kitten and I have just held and held on?  And how much tearing away can the Shoulders and I take?  Before we too, are torn?  It makes no sense.  Nonsense.  World, you spin too fast for me.

When do we sit at His feet?  When do we meet?  Except for the nod in the hall, and silent brooding over coffee in the morning.  I miss them.  HIM.  And I wonder why we do this?  Carry on like this?  And I want to make it stop, make the spinning stop so I can walk a straight line.  The straight line, right?

Here now.  Draw a deep breath, for once.  Be still here...just a moment.  A moment, alone with eyes closed on the face of Jesus.  Oh, Jesus.  Be the God of today.  Of now.  Of all these children.  Of this union.  Of our time left here.  Of me.

As I rush out the door to that place where they cover the grey of all this, I whisper to You, my King.  " Keep us safe.  Help us all to hear You today in the rush of being Americans.  In the rush away from You.  Let Your strong grace keep us.  Keep our feet."

On the line,

Bernadette