This is difficult.
Why does beginning a blog require this much courage? These many days and weeks of pulling up my site, only to click it off without having made any changes? Every day dozens of random blog entries drift through my mind only to freeze when it comes time to send them out here into blogosphere. And those frightening white "about me" boxes just freak me out.
But today, Today, the sun is shining. Today is a good day to begin something new.
I'll begin at the place it always begins, that hazy moment, the pause between waking and sleeping, knowing and dreaming, doing and being . . . the silent groan in the morning when we sense once again our weary bodies, our loneliness, our longing to awake in His presence. But the moment collapses and we hurry, hoping, in the morning, to set things right again. Wash, brush, cover ourselves and the day can begin as though we aren't really these stinky, ugly, hurting creatures that must, coping, crawl away every night to hide. "For he giveth his beloved sleep . . ." what a good God who remembering we are dust offers us each night a reprieve. In the morning, His mercies are new. We can walk upright another day, sixteen hours or so, until our clay bodies, feeling their heaviness, their earthiness, must prostrate themselves once again.
It is a battle, in the mornings, to be still. My first urge is to rush into doing, and ignore my desperate need just to be. It is against our nature to sit in the morning, so aware of the long to-do lists, and accept His DONE to cover all my DOing for the day. To be in His presence and allow Him to tell me who I am, before the world begins to tell me all I am not. Having two children forces that time to look a bit different than it used to (I am most likely to be on the floor with the baby as Sesame Street blares to my two-year old), and my Time With Him never lasts as long as I think I need, but I have to believe that in Motherhood, time counts double and sometimes my quickest prayers seem to be the ones God answers threefold.