I find myself at home…sitting on our lovely couch, Enzo’s head on my lap. Baby girl is sleeping. The only sounds I hear are the clock ticking and the fire crackling in the masonry heater. Outside it is grey. The tiny pebbles of hail from an hour ago cover parts of the ground. The rest of the family went to church.

My heart is all sort of…raw and open and crying to God.

The morning was a bit crazy. Okay a lot crazy. We got up too late, I started the pancakes too late. The kids wanted to eat indefinitely. They must all be on a growth spurt. I kept telling them in no uncertain terms (okay, maaaybe yelling) that they need to hurry, or they will get to stay home with me and the babies instead of going to church. They slowly ate, with all sorts of nonsense in-between. I sent Hazel to get dressed. Five minutes later I checked on her. She forgot and was just playing or something…

As they finally neared the “ready” stage, I looked at my house. My kitchen and dining room were trashed. I knew I’d never have any sort of peaceful quiet morning with that. So I kicked my…self in gear and cleaned it up. By then I was crashing things around. My stomach hurt. The stress of the morning had taken it’s toll on all of us.

Dear God, how do I live in a state of constant rest? 

Every day…five kids needing so many things–from me. Emotionally, physically, spiritually…they need so much. I mean, let’s face it–sometimes I can’t even go use the bathroom without at least one of them following me…

And then there’s the pressure. I feel it. I make it. I take it. I know it’s not from You. Cuz the other night…

After I left Aldi, I was feeling this badness. I had just bought bread, bagels, croissants. It’s not my style of healthy-crunchy to feed my kids. It’s called…desperation. It’s called “I bake bread and they eat it in two days. I can’t bake bread every two days”. I felt bad about the money I had spent at Aldi. So much. So much food. Did I do it right…?

Then I heard You. You said…

It’s okay. Relax. Embrace the crazy. Do your best. Listen to MY heart for you. Let go of the pressure. 

I suddenly realized that You said that yes–my life is crazy. I knew in that moment that I didn’t need to try to do more than my own best. I didn’t need to look at others and feel either guilt or pride. 

And this rest thing.

Today, I am gasping for it. Like someone who has been running for hours…days. In a desert. With no water. And no break. 

I’m not talking about needing a vacation. Or even a night out by myself. 

I’m talking about rest. Rest in the very middle of the crazy. Rest deep in my soul, where it does not matter what is going on around me. The kids can all be crying, fighting, hungry, and I still have not accomplished even the minutest task of the day…and there it is: rest. Peace. It’s okay. 

See, I need it for myself. My emotional, spiritual, and physical health needs this. But my kids also need this. They need this–in me. 

Daisy will speak it in clear words…”Mom, when you get like this, I don’t feel loved.” Ah. Pretty clear. Thank you, sweetheart.

On this frozen Sunday morning…just prayin’ for rest.