It's almost as if I have been asleep for a while and something in me woke up. It's pretty amazing really.

And you know what started it all? Committing to 10 days of corporate prayer with my church, earlier this year.

I had not been terribly excited about it. It was a hard commitment, and I wasn't even able to make it each night. Babies are far less interested in mom making it to prayer.

Some nights, even while I was there, I felt kind of blah and disconnected. My mind would wander and I'd have to retrain my thoughts back on God. I wasn't really "getting a lot" out of most evenings. I was going, I was participating, and my heart was fully there...and still some nights just ended. I went home and when asked about the evening I'd say they were "good."

Through it all though, I was *very* aware that God was moving. In subtle, hard to see, yet still powerful and life changing, ways.

Tonight hammered that in for me a bit.

I realized tonight while sitting in service, listening to my pastor preach about all being a part of one body, the importance of each piece...I realized that an old familiar hurt, so often aggravated by these types of lessons, was missing.

It wasn't whispering "ya, but" s in my ear or pointing to the actions of others. If anything I was reminded of the grace and forgiveness that God and people have shown me, countless times. I saw the billions of acts of love and kindness that have been shown me and my family.

Instead of pain there was peace.

I can trace the healing to a specific moment in those prayer meetings. Not a big deliberate moment either, just a stirring that something was changing.

Tonight? I saw the change.

Once again, I am awed that such a great big God cares so much about the little things in my small life.

All the kiddos, including the biggest one of all, my husband, are snuggled in their beds.

I am thinking about running.

Yes, running.

Just last week I embarked on a little adventure and decided to train to *run* a 5k. I have been known to say that you really shouldn't run unless someone is chasing you, but as I get closer and closer to 40, I want something more active and challenging. I want to set a goal, and do something outside my comfort zone.

So today, day two, I went running. Armed with a borrowed iphone and a handy little app, I set out to run. I had been looking forward to this little break in my day. To a little time, on my own, doing something just for me.

Then my daughter asked if she could join me. I think I just heard a chorus of exhausted mothers just groan.

This? Was not my plan. 30 minutes with the daughter who's emotions have en all over the map lately, while I pushed myself past the point of reasonable breathing did not sound like fun.

Yet, I heard myself agree.

So we strapped on our shoes and I strapped on my less selfish attitude and off we went. It was as hard as I expected. It might have been nice to be panting on my own...but the smile on my baby's face as she was included in "my" time, ushered in with no complaints, showed me something much more important.

Maybe my little girl needs to do this as much as I do? For herself. To prove she can.

More importantly, maybe she just needs to know she belongs. With me. Her mama.

I was working in the church nursery, a job I used to dread but now find pretty enjoyable, and just chatting with other women. The kids were all in great spirits today and playing pretty well so it was very relaxing and sweet.

As women do we covered everything from jeans, to mixers, to obesity, to diapers.

We discussed our mothers, the mothers we are or hope to be. The wounds, the triumphs. Life in general.

Somewhere in here I had a moment to think on Zoe's birth and the moment she was placed on my chest in the post surgical recovery room.

Zoe's pregnancy was filled with reassurances. Every test. Every ultrasound. Every routine appointment. Each and every one was confirmation that she was going to be ok. That she was coming home with us, whole and healthy. That our arms would be filled when we exited the hospital doors. That all of our tears would be tears of gladness (or exhaustion from sleepless weeks).

Yet, I don't think I exhaled for those nine months.

When she was born, Steven looked at me and whispered "She's perfect." So much in those two words. "God heard our prayers. He's blessed us beyond measure. There won't be heartbreak this time. we can rejoice."

The wave of emotion was palpable.

Yet still, hearing her precious cry and looking into her little face for the first time...those were nothing compared to that first moment where I could lay her on my chest and just drink her in.

Holding God's promise, skin to skin, in the quiet curtained space...I will never forget.

Unlike with all the other kids, there was no rush to share her with the world. I was grateful for that enforced time of just us three. I needed to hold her, alone. I needed to silently praise a God who had stood with me in the darkest time in my life, holding me up and giving me strength beyond myself. I needed to embrace her with every piece of my heart, including the parts I couldn't open before I held her.

So today, I watcher her walk, and laugh, and eat cherrios by the cupful... and I drank it all in again. My God, who never stopped loving me, though He asked me to walk a painful path, also set my feet here, in this place of much rejoicing.

Thank you Lord, for every gift you have given me...and those things that brought me anguish, that you allowed to open up such deep places of joyfulness. Thank you...a million times, Thank you.

When Saturday comes. I wake up and always think there will be time for a great post...but there never is.

I think I may have to rethink a 7 day a week blog, and stick to Monday-Friday.

In any case, I pray you are blessed and that this weekend you will laugh from the deepest place in your heart and that you will feel God's incredible love.

Thank you for your understanding,

<3

Coming up with something interesting to say for 10 days straight I hard! Some days, like today, my brain simply shuts off as soon as the last kid has run out of reasons to prolong going to bed. Those days I sit on the couch and watch some truly mindless tv. The computer is too much effort. The toys stay where ever they landed. And I just sit.

Tonight was one of those nights. The day was wonderful and filled with special moments like a visit with a new friend and her sweet baby, but after adding in a new sport and some frantic running from point a to point b, I was spent.

I had a terse conversation that turned into a beautiful, but emotionally exhausting one, with my daughter *and* my husband.

So I have just been sitting.

Everything I think to write about seems forced, because the only real thing I can think of, is how desperately I want a pedicure.

I tried to write about the beautiful truths I found in Proverbs today...but they just sounded flat.

I could try and pick up on the Joy Dare again...but I kind of got lost there. I often felt like I was just not connecting to the questions...and that's ok.

So tonight I will just leave you with this simple truth...No matter how hard and exhausting life gets, I am grateful everyday that I have been given the chance to live it. Especially the life God has blessed me with.

Today, in the midst of our daily chaos and with far too many things on my plate, I actually took the time to go and get the eye exam i have needed forever.

Then, when I realized I had no coverage to actually purchase glasses I went home and looked up a discount eyeglass site that I have heard good things about...and I actually ordered glasses. For me.

I have a bad habit, that is all too common in moms...or even just in women. I notoriously put off things for me, to do for my family. Which is noble, except when it is detrimental.

It's good to stay up late getting laundry done. It's bad to sacrifice vision because you never make the time.

So today, making the time, spending the money...they reminded me that I matter and that I am important...that is a good thing

I remember I had two thoughts:

First, was "Oh Thank God, she's had those days too!" I think every mom wonders, as they weep over dishes, sweeping, errand running, nursing, diapers, or any of the millions of things we feel so responsible for, if they are the only woman who has ever felt this way. If they are the only one failing. I have. A million times I have looked at my list of things to do and thought "I'm a failure. I can't do this. God, it's too much and too hard."

I just sent a series of those messages to a friend two weeks ago.

Sometimes my job is just.plain.hard.

We don't like to talk about it either, us mothers. When we say it out loud? Well, that's another failure. How can we look at all our blessings and thing it's too hard. This is the life we wanted and now we complain? Shame on us. Failure.

Somehow, knowing a woman with 19 children running around her home, who by all appearances are kindhearted, decent, loving kids. Rambunctious, but obedient kids. Kids who have learned well...somehow, if she has the strength to admit her 1am crying jags and utter exhaustion, then I'm not alone.

The second thing I noted was far less gracious... "I don't have someone who will help me with my laundry." Cue more crying.

I had a deep envy for a piano tutor who would help with laundry. None of my kids want to play piano, but still.

I quickly repented of my envy, but did tell God, "I could sure use help like that."

That was the end of it. I didn't sit and pitch a tent in my wallowing place and I didn't begin to seek after a laundress either.

There was a third thing I should have taken more note of. Michelle cried out in her desperation and God heard. He didn't just hear, but he acted.

The past few months have been trying. All of my kids are at pretty important junctures in their lives and I feel like my oldest daughter is really at a crossroads. Not between good and evil, but between knowing herself and being further beat up by the world. I have watched her struggle against herself, against me, but thankfully, not against God...though i have seen her struggle to grasp onto the truth of who He has created her to be.

And through all of this I have been her mother, her adviser, her corrector...and her teacher. I have felt so over burdened by these many hats...and I cried out that "God, it's too much. I can't keep doing it all. I am so overwhelmed!" and I waited for God to strengthen me.

I have felt his strength holding me up, pushing me forward, but I have still been overwhelmed.

And tonight? He sent me my laundress. Only in the form of someone suited to tutor my daughter in the two areas she struggles most in. The areas where she simply put up a block when it came to learning from me. Someone came alongside who passionately loves my little girl and sees a need and is willing to sacrifice to help meet it.

As I am typing this I can't even hold back the tears.

I have feared that I failed her. that I continued to fail her. I was so lost.

God heard me. He is blessing me by blessing my daughter. I am deeply humbled and couldn't be any more grateful.