waking up on a sunday morning

I am at the end of a week that has left me sucking on fumes. Work is so draining and unpredictable. I cannot keep track of schedules and the directions my three babies are running in. My husband and I are ships passing in the night, struggling to communicate more deeply than reminders of permission slips, dinner menus and social commitments. I am begging for wisdom each morning on how to be a better disciple, wife, mother and friend but I am too busy and exhausted to listen for the answer on some days. But this week has been sandwiched by two amazing weekends filled with learning, fellowship, opportunities, encouragement, Christmas shoeboxes, $2 movie rentals and a chilly version of American Ninja Warrior at the jungle gym down the street.  (And now in next-day hindsight, it all still tied up sweetly with cuddles and kisses, melting away the busyness of it all.)

I am reminded that He is at my beginning and my end. His faithfulness is real. And if I only have the energy to do one thing, it is not to fashion a strategy on how to do and be all things in the coming week, it is to drop it all for a moment and dwell on all He has done for me. And then step into Monday and allow Him to do it again.