Mishaps of a housewife

All I could do was pray "Jesus." When my heart was hurting, when my body was hurting, when I was too tired, when I could find no other words to utter. "Jesus." As I waited for the actual miscarriage to happen, I woke often in the night out of fear, anticipation, confusion, and I would resolve to plan ahead, sift through my thoughts, pray for peace, but all the clarity that came was "Jesus." In the middle of the night, crying out, whispering, groaning one name. Sometimes I wake up to one of my own children calling "Mama." Usually that's all. Just my name, until I come and find them where they are, and work to comfort them or solve their problems. Because they are too tired to come to where I am. Because they're too confused. Because they're too sick. Because they're too lonely. Jesus does that too. When you're barely holding yourself together and don't have the strength to seek him out, He will come when you call ou

Things don't go as planned. My mother's day was not what I expected it to be. Rather than announcing publically that another baby would be joining us in December, I'm walking through a miscarriage. Again. A third baby joins his or her creator in heaven. Mother's day morning was spent waking up and wondering if today would finally be the day that this whole physical process of loss would be done, after weeks of waiting. It was spent telling the 3 year old and 6 year old that another sibling wasn't strong enough to join them on earth. That, no, I don't know if it was a brother or sister. That I wish I did. That I can't wait to meet all 3 of these mysterious tiny people one day, while concealing the true desperation and desire to see their dear, unknown faces. It was spent assuring them that God is still good, still kind, that He still loves them and Mama and this gone too soon baby. Mother's day was not happy and glowing this year. No one ev