This post wasn’t easy for me to write. Why?
Because it’s yet another admission that I’m not Super Mom. I don’t always get it all right.
Sometimes I don’t even come close.
——–Today, I’m sharing from the archives.——–
It was after ten o’clock when I heard my ten-year old daughter slip into my bedroom.
Family devotions and bedtime rituals were over two hours ago.
My husband hadn’t come to bed yet, but I was nearly asleep.
I forced my heavy eyelids open and felt more than heard my girl snuggle beneath the quilts on our queen-size bed.
“Mama, are you awake?”
“Yes,” I whispered, hoping the baby snoozing in his crib across the room was sleeping soundly.
I knew what Miss A needed.
She wanted to talk.
What I wanted to do was to shoo her out of my room and back to her bed, but something restrained me.
Hadn’t I been asking the Lord to help me learn to “speak” this child’s love language?
A commodity I never seem to have in surplus. Especially at the end of another busy day.
“What’s on your mind, Miss A?” I asked sleepily, trying not to sound impatient. Even in the dark, I could sense that my daughter’s face was pensive. “Do you want to talk?”
A deep breath, and then-
“It’s just… well, Mommy… sometimes I feel lonely.”
Lonely? In a household of eight people?
Honestly, I could hardly imagine.
“I’m sorry you feel that way, Miss A. I had no idea.”
“It’s true. Lots of times I want to talk to you, but you’re always too busy.”
“Oh. I know. I’m really sorry.”
Silence, and then I ventured,
“What am I usually doing when you want to talk?”
“Cooking. Taking care of the baby. Doing stuff on the computer. I know you’re busy, Mama, but sometimes I just need to talk. Just me and you.”
I shut my eyes and felt a little tremor in my heart. Was it guilt? Maybe. Or conviction.
“I’m sorry, Miss A. I really am. Maybe we can make a list of things to do together around the house. Can you help me think of some things?”
“Good. That would be great. I want to spend more time with you. I love you, Miss A.”
“I love you too, Mommy.”
We chatted a little, and then my daughter went to bed.
I sat staring into the dark bedroom for a while, unable to sleep.
My mind crawled back over the day, and each day over the past few weeks. They were much the same: busy, running from day break ’til dark.
Sometimes pulling late nights because there just wasn’t enough time to squeeze it all in during the day.
Taking care of a baby, a preschooler, and three “big kids”.
Emails to read and respond to.
Somehow, I’d gotten used to it all. It felt normal.
This season of life is just so busy. But maybe I’m trying to do too much?
My daughter’s words echoed in the quiet of the room. Sometimes I feel lonely… I just need to talk.
I squeezed my eyes shut and felt my heart twist.
Why is this always so hard for me? What do you want me to do, Lord? I only have so much time in my day. I can’t do it ALL!
I’ve never heard an audible voice from God. Not that on night, or any other night. But He did answer.
… continued in part two
This post was originally written and shared March 2014.