Life is a roller coaster. And life, at present, is a doozy of a coaster. Spins, turns, loop-de-loops, climbs, rapid descents and curves. You name it, it’s there. Puts anything at Six Flags to shame.
Sleep? Yeah, right. I’m lucky to get it in 3 hour chunks. If I get more than 5 consecutive (or cumulative!) hours in a night, it’s amazing.
Quiet? Not in our house. We have an 8-month-old who I’m sure will be the kid who needs to be taught how to whisper. And a 5-year-old who loves to play cars. Crashing. Bashing. Fast. On the hardwood floor.
And there’s the 10-year-old, who is more quiet than the 5-year-old, but old enough to be riding the family waves of situational stress and distress along with us.
It seems like we slide from one crisis to another to another, whether within our own house, or with extended family. All with the soundtrack of our not-so-dull-roar of life in the background. And foreground. (But no “Frontground”. Let the reader understand.)
I’m irritable. I’m stretched thin. I’m tired. And sometimes, after the kids are in bed, I just sit at the top of the stairs and cry.
I was reminded again today, though, that in the midst of it all, God is there. Life can be crazy, but the God who gives faith and hope until we no longer need it (1 Cor. 13:8–13) — this God is there. Present. With me, and with those I love.
For the briefest of moments today, I had peace from this thought: I am his, and I cannot be taken from him (John 10:27–29).
μαρανα θα (1 Cor. 16:21). Come, Lord Jesus (Rev. 21:20).