One Wish

It’s been a long, hard day, at at 10:30 pm I still have miles to go before I sleep.

My heart is all jumbled up with a dozen different feelings about at least a dozen different things.

And suddenly, out of the blue I am filled with an overwhelming ache for the ocean.


If I could have one wish , right now, I would wish for 30 minutes alone at the water’s edge.

I would go after the sun has set and darkness is gathering in.  I would go with a quilt wrapped around my shoulders.  And I would simply stand there and listen and breathe.

I would listen to the roar of the waves as they break on the beach and breathe the cool air as it whips my hair against my face.

I would watch the tide, watch the last light of the day as it glistens on the water, making way for distant lights of ships and far away piers.

I would stand still long enough for a feeling of calm to possess me, long enough to gather my disjointed thoughts, feelings, goals, disappointments, worries, hopes and plans.  I’d give my heart time to gather them all back in, ready to be properly sifted, sorted and tucked away.  I’d wait long enough to hear the whisper that says everything will turn out just fine, long enough to feel warm and cold all at once, long enough to let all the tension and stress drain out of me.

Then I’d take one last deep breath, turn around, square my shoulders and get back to work.

And I’m pretty sure I’d feel a whole lot better.

Longing for the sea…

Jennifer

Yard Work



The sun shone and hid, the rain poured and ceased and poured again, but the work went on.


This guy has been working, literally, around the clock in life.  He picked up a second contract for work, and is trying to put in 40 hours/week at both jobs.  In addition to this, he’s installing our sprinkler system.  To say that he’s being squeezed from many directions is an understatement.  We all are, actually.


Knowing the rain was coming, we worked yesterday to get the pipes laid.  After the older 5 were off to school, I walked outside and saw my little guy playing in the dirt a few yards from his Dad.  The sight transported me back 10 years to when our oldest was 3 years old, following his Dad around while he installed a fence and sandbox in the yard of our first home.  Popping in and out of the house to contribute what little I could while also keeping an eye on the youngest two continued the nostalgia I felt, remembering life with the first three little ones.

It was an intense time, building our family and working like crazy while our little ones ran circles around us.  I don’t remember it being easy.  Quite the opposite.  Thinking of those days, I laughed a little at how simple they were in comparison with life right now.  Here I am today, with three little ones spaced even closer together than the first three, plus 5 older ones as well.  Memories like this make me long for a life without school, extra-curricular activities, and 3-4 hours in the car every day.

Yes, sometimes I miss those days.   Yet here I am.  And so we worked yesterday (my husband much harder than I) through rain, shine, memories, and lots of mud.


We marveled at how sprinkler systems have become simpler and much easier to deal with in the last 10 years.

We smiled at our little guy all covered with dirt.


We all jumped together in surprise at the exploding sound of thunder and smiled at the rain as it soaked us through.


I couldn’t help but think that life is like this.  You have to keep working through both rain and shine.  The key is to keep trudging, even when your feet are heavy with layers of mud caked to them.


And slowly, so very slowly, you make progress.




Soon the rain stops, and you look around.  The world is so beautiful after it rains.  The colors are so saturated .


You take a deep breath of the fresh air, and feel so glad to be alive.  Glad to be outside.  Even glad to be wet and muddy.   Grateful for a brief day to simply live in the moment.

What are you grateful for today?

Hopeful Homemaker

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