Five Minute Friday #38: REST

I link up with Lisa-Jo on Fridays for a writing flash mob…throwing caution to the wind and gathering to share what a few minutes of free writing can buy. 

Today’s topic: REST

CHILD LAP

GO.

It’s time for bed and every night after he gets his PJs on, he grabs The Book — the dinosaur book that used to be his daddy’s — and shuffle-skips over to me with it. I fake a groan which delights him to no end and I sit on the floor leaning against the bed with my legs extended all the way. He climbs onto them and curls into my lap and rests his mussed head against my chest.

And I sing-song the book the whole way through.

At the end of the day when we’re all finally allowed to be lazy, she grabs my fuzzy blanket and hurries over to me before he can. I’m in My Chair and she climbs into my lap and all 9 years of her are so tall that I can’t see anything unless she lays her head to one side. But she’s too squirmy and is never still and so we keep bumping noses and heads.

And then finally we find our groove and sit together until my lap falls asleep.

What is it about The Lap? At some point every single day they want to crawl up and have Their Time. No matter how fast they grow up, they never outgrow this lap — this place of comfort and solace and rest.

This place where a Mama’s love abounds regardless of the barking of orders or nagging or failures I had that day.

This place they want to curl up at day’s end knowing that despite all of it, my love has not wavered even one iota.

I still need The Lap, too, and maybe I need to be more like my little children and just crawl up into it at the end of every day. (tweet)

That place where a Daddy’s love abounds regardless of my failures.

That place I can curl up and end the day knowing that despite it all, His love has not wavered even one iota.

His lap. God’s lap. The lap of a thousand miles where His legs never fall asleep.

STOP.

MDS-SIG-01

Doctoring (Thanksday #82)

I’m sick.

I’m sick and I’m tired and I’m sick and tired of being sick and tired. It’s day eight of ill and I’m no better off than day one. So I finally sucked it up and went to the doctor. (Because Greg stood there staring at me until I dialed the number and made an appointment.) And sadly, that’s what it took to get me to go. And guess what? Sinus infection. So antibiotics are slowly entering my bloodstream and I’m praying (praying) I have some more energy and life in the next 24 hours.

Please, God. Please. I need some more energy.

And please remove this vice that has taken a hold of my head and is squeezing out every bit of joy.

(Yes, I know…oh the drama.)

Why is it so easy to take care of everyone else but not yourself? I make time to run and I make time to read and paint my nails and yet scheduling a doctor’s appointment is the last thing I ever want to do. Scheduling a chiropractic visit has been on my to-do list for half a year. The gift card for a massage has been sitting there for weeks and weeks and weeks and I’ve yet to call and book it. And I LOVE massages.

I remember forcing Jaana to take a nap one time when she was two. She’d had a 103-degree fever off and on for hours and I knew she needed a nap. And I had to literally hold her down in bed until she fell asleep. And as she finally did, Psalm 23 scrolled across my mind like a marquee

He makes me lie down in green pastures…

He makes me lie down…

He makes me.

And as I think about this I wonder if He’s making me lie down right now, too. If He’s making me slow down and stop and limit the striving and the achieving and to simply lie down.

Because I don’t have a choice right now. I have to lie down. I’m so very, very tired and I just. have. to. lie. down.

I’m trying to give myself permission to not do and it’s so very, very hard. We moms, we women…we do so much, and to not do goes against the nature of a woman. But sometimes, He makes us lie down in green pastures. Or in sheets with 600-thread count. Or on couches with fuzzy blankets and movies like Love, Actually with chamomile-citrus tea.

Yes, sometimes He does.

So I’m thanking Him today for a husband who supports me getting well and picks up the slack and gives me space to lie down and forces me to go to the doctor. And I’m thanking Him today for removing the urgency from the million little to-do’s that are scattered all over the floor like confetti. And I’m thanking Him, in advance, for helping me get better.

What are you thankful for today?