It's getting late, the kids are all in bed, the Hubs is watching a movie and I'm adding another row to my afghan when Josiah comes out of his room and tells us he's sick. He points out the area, curls up on the couch and I clean.
I start a load of laundry and take a bag of trash to the garbage can out back. I start to count blessings but to be honest I'm coming up empty. Thankful for cleaning up more vomit? Thankful another one of my kids is sick? I reach for gratitude but I can't find it tonight.
I look up at the stars, shining so bright and clear in the dark night sky. I connect the dots, wish I'd paid more attention during all those astronomy lessons. Arrows pointing in a million directions. I feel so lost. Like I'm trying to read a map that I can not understand.
I go inside, sit back down pick up my crochet hook and work on my afghan. My sweet husband asks if I'm okay and I smile and I'm thankful for someone who loves me so much. There's one thing.
I remind myself that my life does matter, even if my kids don't always appreciate what I do, or how hard I try. I sure didn't appreciate my parents when I was their age. I was too immature and unaware to truly appreciate what an incalculable gift I was being given day after day, grace upon grace.
At small group the other day we watched the DVD to One Thousand Gifts (they are amazing) and Ann VosKamp said that maybe it is at our darkest times that God is nearest, like Moses in the cleft of the rock, when God put His hand on him and hid Moses as He passed by. I take some comfort in that and wonder if while this season feels dark and confusing and God often feels a million miles away, that really he is near and active at work in me when I am totally unaware of it.
I hope so.