I see you everywhere.
You’re there in the store, attempting to try on maternity clothes with the toddler climbing underneath the door, spotting her window of escape.
You’re in your driveway at 7am, already dressed and getting in the car and heading to work and starting the new day.
You’re next to me at the stoplight, resting your forehead in your hands as we wait those few moments for the light to turn green.
You’re exhausted and in the cold and flu remedy aisle and a pajama-clad, equally exhausted preschooler holds onto your leg as you read the symptoms and directions and dosage requirements.
You’re there in the library, walking in late to story time, hand firmly wrapped around the wrist of a stubborn heart that is dragging his feet.
You’re sitting in your front yard, watching the kids play in the cul-de-sac and stealing glances at Pinterest, trying not to get caught.
You’re there in the kindergarten pick-up line, ball cap and yoga pants, rubbing your temples.
You’re there, pregnant belly and little kids all around, moving so slowly.
I see you.
You wonder if you will make it through the day.
You wonder how you lost your temper so quickly.
You wonder if your husband will ever start to help raise the kids.
You wonder how to rally for another busy day away at work.
You wonder if you should have tried another solution.
You wonder if you’re capable of raising another child when you already feel at capacity.
You wonder if your very best is good enough.
You wonder what other methods to try with the one who tests every ounce of authority and pushes every boundary laid down.
You wonder what triggered that epic meltdown and if you should have tried a different tactic.
You wonder how you can entertain and engage and contain that toddler’s energy.
Maybe today, in this moment, you feel alone, you feel not good enough, you feel tired. Because I know how your days go. I know the thoughts that you have, I know the questions you ask, the fears you battle, the worries you chase down.
But dear one? I need you to know something. You are enough. You already have what it takes.
But no one except Lucy knew that as the albatross circled the mast, it had whispered to her
COURAGE, DEAR HEART
and the voice, she felt sure, was Aslan’s
My friend, listen for that small voice in those moments that you need to hear it. In the car, in the pick up line, in the grocery store aisle, in the backyard. When everything around you seems to be demanding more of you and when you might not know where the road might lead and when you question and doubt and are just plain tired…
COURAGE, DEAR HEART.
And know that right here, in our little space right here, we are in this together. As we go through our worlds and our lives raising these people, I say to you, “Me too.”
Because do you want to know something that I’ve learned along the way? One of the best ways to become stronger than you are is to invite others into your journey with you.
They carry you when you can’t find the strength and offer up words of love and truth when you are taking your brave steps.
So take that deep breath, gather your strength
AND COURAGE, DEAR HEART
You can do this.