Today is Done Now

This gift of spending my days with my brood is such a swirl of joy, challenge, fun, and fatigue. A couple months ago I journaled through an evening that tended toward the fatigue side of things. And although it is very evident the season is summer in this entry rather than the current fall, I'm hopeful that the peace, and rest I found in the midst of a challenging evening might provide encouragement regardless the season.  

The “work” day is done. Little feet all tucked in. 

Frogs and crickets welcome the evening.
The Cardinal and Robin can be heard chirping lullabies to their baby chicks.

It was only a few minutes ago I was doing the same...1 book ...2 books ...3 books... “Just one more please!”

No, today is done now. Here is a lullaby, here is a kiss. Sweet dreams, little one.

Ahhh... time to decompress.

Then, a small voice, “Mommy, I’m scared.”

Fighting every natural response of exhaustion, I rise.

“Today is done now.” One more kiss, one more tuck in. Sweet dreams little one.

Back to the comfy chair, the glass of wine, the book. A tonic unlike any other after a long day. One paragraph.... two paragraphs...

“Mommy, brother is keeping me awake.” 

Sigh. Some nights are easier. This one is not. 

A quick brainstorm of approaches as I walk down the hall; another tuck in? stern voice? books in bed? Different responses on different nights.
Tonight, a stern voice. And then, “Today is done now. I love you.”

The back porch is calling. Back down the hallway I stride for the backdoor. Along the way I hear child whispers and tired banter behind closed doors. 

The porch is peaceful. Lightning bugs begin to glow. The birds are on their last song, their last tuck in. And the air is suddenly quiet. 

Is it the same inside? Has the banter stopped? The chirping lulled?

Green leaves turn to black silhouettes against the purple, blue sky. 

Deep breaths of gratitude fill my lungs. It was a day of beauty, of laughter, of water splashing, mountain climbing, and indulgent food. 

But tonight feels hard.

Two more times I give the “final” tuck in and good night kiss. I read more chapters in my book and gulp the last bit of that juicy tonic. I turn off lights, open doors, and stare at little chicks deep in their dreams now. Just one more good night kiss. 

Today is done now. 

This work of raising our littles is hard. It can take a toll on our emotions and our bodies. (I don’t know of anyone else in my life who is at one point holding my hand and sharing their undying love for me and then not one minute later planking on the floor screaming at me with eyes full of tears). 

But let us rally. Let us encourage ourselves and one another for the task at hand. This is important work. CS Lewis refers to its enormity when he says, "The homemaker has the ultimate career. All other careers exist for one purpose only - and that is to support the ultimate career. "

May these words inspire us as we wipe that cheeky bottom, point to the time out corner for the tenth time, work math problems over again, or mash those carrots with all our might. These moments build upon themselves and grow into days, and weeks, and months, and years. And with these moments our babies are growing as well and will eventually become strong, level-headed, thoughtful, and kind adults.

Besides a good book and port wine, I find my center as I reflect on the words Jesus shared when he says, “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.” Matthew 11:28-30

At the end day, these words are like a warm, soothing salve on a dry, cracked heart. In myself I wrestle with frustration and selfishness. “If I can just have enough control or strength...” I think. 

But I relax my mind into this scripture that it is only when I exchange my worked-up, exhausted self that I will receive His easy, restful yoke. I have found this  needs to be something of a practice for me. Quieting myself, reflecting on my inability, and embracing that Greater One to teach, restore, and lighten my load. The more often I do it, the quicker I am to that place of relinquishment and surrender, and ultimately peace. 

May you too embrace the gift of surrender, peace, and reflection of all that there is to be grateful for in this good work. 

(Photos are from the beautiful Cloudland Canyon State Park!)