At 9:26, after a long, grueling day of which I will spare you the details, I sit here and stare blankly at my computer. And I got nothin'.
Husband walks around the house, wanting time with me {Hallelujah, something I should be thankful for!}. Instead of being irritated in my utter mind-numbing exhaustion, something tells me I should go cuddle up next to him and purr--be the soft wife he wants and needs.
So I'm letting go of my perceived failure, and fears of all the what-if's and shoulds and should nots, and I'm reaching out for what is eternal--love. And I'm embracing the rest and the grace that is reigning down on me tonight and it's been a long time coming.
I'm supposed to be writing for 31 straight days on fear. And I won't give up.
But there are just times that you don't call it giving up--you call it surrender, with arms stretched up to heaven and out, filled with all this love, these chubby hands patting me calling Mama, these man-arms that wrap 'round me on our living room couch.
