Hearts strung on a wire, dancing from the built-in buffet to the trim over the Fern room door. The children waltz in with skip in step. At Grandma's for a Valentine's party! What could be more exquisite?Two mothers present, heavy in that slogging work of young motherhood, the quicksand of myriad tasks pulling at our feet as we try our best to dance. Clothes to wash, fold, put away; meals to cook; studying to do; parties to plan; home to make homey. It whispers at the edge of consciousness, the ante is automatically raised. The fragile tightrope of living in this heartbeat, this blink of the eye. Putting tasks out of mind for the reality of joy in this moment.
My patience was thin, and my stress transparent. I paced in the hallway while children hid presents for hide-and-seek...one at a time. The minutes dragged. Beauty surrounds, yet the heart can be so discontent. I know, consciously, that time wasted worrying about the work of the next hour is futile and ridiculous. Still that undertow...the emotional and spiritual quagmire of duty and privilege fill my heart like lead in moments like these.
Framed like a painting, my youngest girl played with wrapped gifts. A game delightfully handmade in vintage style by my mother set gracefully on the sill. Time again to breathe. To relearn for the thousandth time that deep and peaceful truth: though you have made me see troubles, many and bitter, you will restore my life again; from the depths of the earth you will again bring me up. (Psalm 71:20)
My "cancer day" can wait.
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