Sometimes even when it makes sense to smile, I…I just can’t. The worry of the world is too heavy. And it isn’t just on my shoulders…it’s got a hold of my heart. And it’s stifling. Strangling. Preventing me from seeing even the joy in the present…the joy right in front of my face.
I hear myself speak. And my neutral words sound anything but. They come out like a spanking. And the people I love creep to another room. They tiptoe around the kitchen with wide eyes that say, ‘momma ain’t no fun right now–watch out’. And they do.
They egg shell around me. And when we talk, it’s about the weather. Or dinner. Or nothing.
Only I don’t blame ’em.
I don’t even want to be around me right now.
I just want to be free.
At five o’ something this morning, my underweared son needed me. To tuck him in. Again.
Only I realized that between the hours I’d laid my head down and risen to the whisper of my son, a paradigm shift had happened.
And all I can say is–thank you, Jesus, that joy comes in the morning.
Thank you, for this one.
And this one.
And a brand new day.