the morning light

I just sat there.

My weary body pressed against our worn oak dining chairs.

My brain seeming unable to rest.

A worry here, a worry there. I just wanted to write.

My heart felt too heavy -- I was clinging on to thoughts of what "I thought I should have" or "how is that going to get solved?" -- to let the words flow.

I saw time, ticking by. I saw life, nothing like I expected. And I didn't know if I should laugh or cry or sing or pray.

The words seemed stuck.


Then I heard it. This little cry. A stirring.

Momma.

Momma, Momma, Momma.

It was Samuel.


The morning sun was dancing in his room, and in that dance it woke his sleepy body. As soon as his sweet baby blue eyes fluttered open he must have realized he didn't want to stay in the maple colored crib. He wanted me.

As I gathered him in my arms I began to wonder about those early moments of self-reflection. I was only looking at the challenges -- finances, auto-repairs, agendas, and regrets.

I wasn't seeing the gifts. Blessings all around.

I forgot.

Samuel nestled into me and as I smelled the mix of baby and toddler I rested. No longer in what is hard, but in what is good.



The morning light found it's way into the kitchen and with the light came more sweet ones coming down the stairs. I see their faces -- with remnants of sleepiness -- stumble into the room with Samuel and me.

Morning momma.

Ah yes, that is what brings me joy.

I just needed to be reminded.