Saturday, November 22, 2014


Solitude. It's not a word I use - or experience - much.  As a wife and mother, I always seem to be on the go. With people. I'm always on a mission. To take someone somewhere. To pick someone up. To to help with this. To hurry up. To get this done. To check behind someone... Rarely I am alone.

There is always noise.  Drumming. Music. Television. Barking. Text dings. Sports Talk Radio. "Mom!" Cars... Rarely it is quiet.

There's always something running around in my head. The grocery list. Did I check the calendar? The boys' schedules? Prescriptions to pick up. How do I fix supper when no one is at home the same time? Jackson's shirt needs ironing for chapel - TODAY! I really need to call my mother. Organizing Thanksgving plans.  What is wrong with our country??? I really need to take these clothes to ACTS. Did I word that text correctly? Why won't Mike's legs stop cramping up every night? I need to lose weight. I should call my sister. OMG, the outside plants! Why can't the boys put their clothes in the hamper? This rug really needs cleaning. Why does that person feel the need to tell me what I should do? Christmas cards!... Rarely I feel calm.

I find the older I get, the more alone time I need. I crave. To just be. To listen to the quiet. To be thankful. To rest in the calm He is providing.  Curled up on the sofa on a Saturday morning before the rest of the house wakes up. With coffee. With one of my weekly Proverbs31 devotions that I missed one weekday morning. And this month's "Southern Living". And Maggie.

It does my heart and soul good. It gives it a much needed rest. Because just now, my youngest came in, asking for chocolate chip pancakes.

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